Defending My Mobster (BWWM Romance) (36 page)

I breathed out in a shudder. It was impossible to think I’d been at work that morning. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

Nate leaned forward and kissed me. Soft and gentle. His lips on mine was exactly how it should be.

“What do we do now?” I asked when he pulled away.

“Stay? I can book you a ticket on the flight I was going to take back to Joburg on Sunday.”

I shook my head. “I can’t stay that long. I’m supposed to be on sick leave. Carol is covering for me.”

He grinned. “She’s a star. Alright, let’s head back tomorrow then. Will that work for you?”

“You’re cutting your holiday short.”

“I’m not going to stay here in a town where I’m not welcome in my mother’s home. Besides, I’d rather be closer to you.”

We flew back to Johannesburg Tuesday afternoon, and on Wednesday morning I was back in my cubicle.

When Sarah walked past and saw me, she stopped.

“Feeling better?”

I didn’t believe she asked because she was interested in my well-being.

“A bit. Still feeling nauseous, but nothing I can’t handle.”

Sarah looked me up and down. I wondered if she ever smiled. Her skin was smooth and flawless, not a wrinkle in sight. Maybe she didn’t smile because it would make her look like she’d been living, or something.

“Well, keep it under wraps. We really can’t afford someone else doing your job with you still getting paid for it. Things are bad enough as they are with people getting fired.”

She turned and walked away. I knocked on the partition between me and Carol, and she popped her head over.

“People are getting fired?” I asked.

Carol nodded, serious for a change.

“I didn’t want to tell you… they came to let our department know just after you left on Monday. They’re letting a lot of people go. They can’t afford to keep as many on as they are now. Some are saying it’s because of the contract with Coralcor that’s giving trouble. If you ask me, things are just going south because Parker doesn’t know what he’s doing.” She looked around the office. “You didn’t hear that from me, though.”

That gave me reason to worry. I’d only been at Frank & Seder a couple of months. I wasn’t a stable employee. But if things were going south, expanding into the US would probably not be a big priority for the company, and that would mean I would be out of a job. My contract was still at the point where I only needed two weeks’ notice, not even a full month. At least they couldn’t get rid of me on the spot. The probation period was over.

Thank god for the small things.

Would another company take me? It seemed like the people in South Africa were so hard up for work, it seemed like a far stretch to expect them to employ a foreigner.

Would I go home if I had to? I thought of Nate. After the wild ups and downs our relationship has had in such a short time, it would be cruel just to up and leave.  Besides, I don’t think I could stand being apart from him, and this time by my own choice.

No, if I was let go, I’d make a plan to stay. I dug in my bag for a yogurt and peeled the top off. I had just gotten into the office, and I was already hungry. After a break up I never ate. Maybe it was catching up with me now.

The yogurt was barely in my stomach when I ran to the bathroom again to throw up. I took a deep breath, and tried to ignore my body. I didn’t have to worry yet. It had only been since Friday. I’d chalked it up to heartache.

“I think I have a stomach bug,” I said to Carol when we sat together at lunch. “I’ve been nauseous since Friday.”

“Friday?”

I nodded. “Since… you know. But we’re okay now. So I think I caught something.”

“That’s a bit long for a stomach bug,” she said. “Maybe you should get it checked out.”

I shrugged.

I barely made it to my cubicle after lunch when I felt the nausea get worse. I made it to the bathroom just on time and threw up. Twice.

“Are you okay?” Carol asked when I got back to my desk.

“I feel awful,” I admitted. She dug around in her purse and gave me some Gravol.

“Do you have a doctor’s number for me?” I asked her. She scribbled one on a note for me, and I phoned to make an appointment. I got one just after work.

Perfect.

The doctor’s offices were full, and I sat there for almost an hour. The hard plastic seat was uncomfortable and most of the magazines were so old I knew everything they said about celebrities and fad diets. I amused myself with a half-finished crossword puzzle. I watched the children in the corner play with blocks. Eventually I just stared at the floor until the secretary finally said I could go through.

“Miss Taylor, take a seat,” the man said. He was gentle and friendly looking, with a bit of a lazy eye and thinning hair on the top of his head. I told him about my nausea.

He asked a couple of questions about my medical history. He asked me to get on the examination table and did a few standard tests. He finished off with poking and prodding my stomach, asking if any of it hurt. It didn’t.

“When was your last period?” he asked. I tried to think back to when last it had been. If I could anchor it to some event where I knew I’d been in my cycle, I could get a date. But I couldn’t find anything.

“I’m not sure,” I answered.

“Well, nothing else seems to be the problem,” he finally said. He scribbled a name and number on the note and told me to come back after I’d seen Dr. Steyn.

Dr. Steyn was a gynecologist, I found out when I phoned her number. I wondered if there was something wrong with my reproductive parts. My body went cold when I thought of the inheritable diseases in my family. My gran had gotten cervical cancer that had evolved into Leukemia. 

Dr. Steyn was calm and gentle, an older woman with grey hair and a smile that was made to reassure. She ran through standard tests too – which included sonar on my lower abdomen. Finally she called me to sit down at the desk after I’d dressed.

“Is it bad?” I asked. I was nervous. Hell, I was terrified.

Dr. Steyn chuckled.

“It’s not bad at all. There’s nothing wrong with you. Your nausea is morning sickness.”

“Excuse me?” I understood the words, but I didn’t understand what she was trying to say to me. “I’m sick all the time.”

Dr. Steyn laughed again, the skin around her eyes crinkling with laugh-lines.

“No Alyssa. “You’re pregnant.”

Chapter  8 - Nate

After I dropped Alyssa off at her new place, only a few blocks from where I lived now, I went home. I wasn’t going to go back to work until next Monday. I’d taken my leave, and even though I was back in Johannesburg I was going to use it.

I lazed around and caught up on me-time. Since I’d started working, which was almost ten years ago, I’d never really taken the time for myself. Now that everything was fixed with Alyssa, I could enjoy myself without worry.

I felt strangely free since my mother kicked me out of her life. I knew it would hit me hard at some point. It didn’t matter how old I was, or how much of my own money I had, it had knocked me when my father had left. I had been thirteen, in need of a male role model, and he’d been a disappointment. After that it had only been my mother and I, and I’d done everything in my power to be the man of the house.

Things like those make kids grow up fast.

I’d done everything for her. My studies, my job, my money. It had all been for her, not because she'd needed the money, but because she’d needed the social status. She’d needed something to hold onto after he’d left.

Now, finally, seventeen years later, I was relieved of that duty. It felt like heaven. And I enjoyed it while I could.

By Monday morning I was fresh and ready to tackle my job. I walked into the office. Harry was at my office door when I reached it. He looked somber.

“Parker wants to see you,” he said.

“What, now? I just got in?”

Harry shrugged.

“What’s this about?”

Harry wouldn’t look at me. “It doesn’t look good, bud. Just go see him, okay?”

I put my briefcase on my desk, and found Parker in his office.

“Nathan, come on in,” he said. I closed the door behind me, and sat down.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m alright,” I said, suspicious because Parker never asked something like that. Usually he barked orders or demanded results, and that was it.

“Good, good,” he answered. He shuffled some papers on his desk, took a sip of coffee, cross and uncrossed his legs. He leaned forward, hands on the table, fingers interlinked.

“Nathan, there’s no easy way to say this. I’m sure you’ve heard about the company having to lay off some employees.”

I nodded slowly. Why was he telling me this? I thought dawned on me. Was I the one that had to speak to some of the people in the marketing department? I hoped not. I didn’t know if I’d be able to look them in the eye and fire them.

“It’s a very difficult decision that I have to make,” Parker continued, “choosing who has to leave and who gets to stay. But the company hasn’t been doing too well. It hurts me to admit it, but if I don’t do something, we’re going down. And it’ll be my head on a silver platter.”

Of course, everyone else’s head, but not his. That sounded about right to me.

“Who do you want me to speak to?” I asked. Parker looked so somber I wanted to get out of his office as quick as possible.

“What?” he asked.

“Are there people in marketing I need to speak to for you? I know the department heads are sort of responsible for some of the personnel.”

Parker looked at me, confused. Then a light switched on behind his eyes.

“Oh, no. Thank you, Nathan. I don’t need you to speak to anyone. I know this is terrible business, and I’d rather be the one to drop the axe if I really have to. I don’t want anyone else to suffer as I am.”

I nodded, relieved. Thank god.

“What can I do for you?” I asked. If I didn’t have to fire anyone, what I was I doing here?

“Nathan, it pains me to say this. You’re one of the best employees this company has, and it’s a shame to lose you. A damn shame.”

Wait… what?

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to let you go.”

My ears started ringing, and the office spun slowly around me. I tried to make his words make sense, fit them into the correct order so his sentence would mean something.

“I’m fired?” I asked dumbly.

“I’m really sorry, Nathan..."

“But I’ve been here seven years! You can’t do this to me! I’m the only Marketing Strategist you have.”

“I know, I know,” Parker said, looking at his pen-holder rather than at me. “But we don’t really need a separate strategist. It’s great to have you, and you’ve done wonders with the firm. But Harry can take over your current projects, and the news ones we’ll divide among the other consultants.”

I shook my head, trying to make all of this go away.

“You’re giving Harry my job?”

“No, Nathan. I’m just letting him finish the ones that are still up in the air. Once they come down we’re going to work on a new approach.”

“I don’t believe this,” I said more to myself than to him.

“I’m really sorry,” Parker said. “I’m going to have to ask you to clean out your office.”

“I’m leaving right away?”

“It’s effective immediately.”

I took a deep breath, trying to accept what had just happened as reality.

“This really hurts me, Nathan,” Parker said.

“Sure it does.” I turned and left the office. The fact was that it really didn’t hurt him at all. It was all business. It was do or die. And Parker, just
did
.

I walked to my own office in a daze. I sat down behind my desk, looking at everything I had on my desk before me. Some files and stack of papers. Years and years of work. I started sifting through the piles of paper on my desk.