THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY (A Secret Baby Romance) (44 page)

“You don’t even care!” she burst out.

I looked at her. “Don’t be like that,” I said, forcing myself to make my tone gentle although I was terribly bored with her theatrics. “You know I do.”

“Yeah right, Neal,” she said, getting out of the bed and picking up the stash of magazines from her bedside. As she left the room, she closed the door behind her louder than she usually would, and I had a hunch it had been done deliberately. Did she suspect something? Maybe this was the perfect opportunity to break things off with her.

My phone buzzed on my bedside, and I picked it up quickly. It was an email from a friend. I don’t know what I had expected; I put it back down with disappointment. The next moment, I had picked it back up and was in the middle of typing a text before I could stop myself.

I need to see you, Tia.

I waited in silence for a few minutes, but there was no response. Another five minutes passed, and I finally decided she was going to ignore me like I had known, deep down, that she would. I needed to get out of the house. I didn’t care where I went at this hour, just as long as I was out of the fucking house. My phone buzzed just as I got up to leave. It was her.

There is something I need to tell you, Neal. Meet me at Ghyslain three p.m. tomorrow.

I fell back onto the bed. It felt more welcoming than it had only minutes before.

***

I was at Ghyslain at three o’clock sharp the next afternoon. The wind was a very typical spring breeze, and it felt just as nice outdoors as it did indoors. I wanted to sit at the same table we had sat at during our date, but not wanting to tempt fate, I took one on the opposite side, closer to the counter than to the window.

I ordered a cappuccino as I waited for her. Last night, I had been elated that she had not only responded but also suggested we meet. But this morning, I had begun to worry. Something had compelled
her and left her no choice but to meet with me. Whatever she wanted to talk about, I wished for her sake that it was good news and not bad. At half-past-three, Tia had still not arrived. I picked up my phone to text her but changed my mind, deciding to wait a little longer. At quarter-to-four I called her. I was beginning to get genuinely worried. My call went straight to voicemail.

“Tia, it’s Neal. I am at Ghyslain, waiting. Are you all right?” I said.

Another fifteen minutes passed with neither answer nor appearance from her. At half-past-four, I paid the check and left.

I felt angrier than I remembered feeling in a long time. As I drove onto the road, my phone buzzed. I picked it up.

I am sorry, Neal, I thought I could, but I can’t. You are engaged now. I would advise you to forget all about me and enjoy your fiancée.

Tia

For weeks, all of our local cable television channels were obsessed with the Callaway-Banks engagement. He was the son of a billionaire and a self-made billionaire in his own right. She was the only daughter of the owner of the most successful chain of hotels in a string of European countries. Both of them were young, famous, and incredibly good-looking. The media, along with its viewers, feasted on their relationship. Their faces looked at me each time I turned on the television, and for some reason, I seemed to turn on the television more than normal. Maybe it was just to torture myself, or maybe because it was the only way I could see Neal without getting too close to him.

I was well into my third month of pregnancy and beginning to show. It was easier to hide it in the unflattering waitress uniform I wore during my shift at the Moonlight Café, but not that easy in everyday clothes. I worked at the café in the evenings and lounged around the apartment for most of the day. I was home when Ella was not around, and when she was at home, I was working. I was more than happy to postpone the moment I had to tell her about my pregnancy. I did not
look forward to her reaction, and even less to being bombarded with questions as soon as she recovered from the news. I knew for certain that I did not plan on telling anyone else, even her, that the baby belonged to Neal. It was bad enough that I had blurted out my secrets to Gem, and she had gone behind my back to plot with my meeting with him. She hadn’t even been sorry when I confronted her.

“I just thought he deserved a chance to have a word,” she had said carelessly, balancing two platters of steak in each hand and chewing on her gum.

“And was it your business to make that judgment call?” I had asked heatedly.

“I don’t know, but it seemed like the right thing to do.” And with these words, she had gone out to serve.

A few minutes later, she had returned to find me standing where she had left me. “Look, Tia.” She put her hand on my shoulder, but I shrugged off. She continued regardless. “If, after talking to him, you still don’t think he deserves a chance, that’s fine. It’s your decision. But I thought it was right that you at least consider it. Look, it’s not just about you anymore, it’s about another life
…”
She paused to run a hand through her short hair. “I was raised by a single mother, so I know the challenges and difficulties. What I did… it just felt right,” she had finished in a frustrated tone.

“I was raised by a single mother also, Gem.” I looked her straight in the eyes as I spoke and left. Since then, I had kept my distance from Gem. Yet, what she had said about it not being just about me anymore had stuck with me.

With a deliberate and conscious effort, I avoided thinking about the Friday before last with Neal at the hotel.

When I thought about what had happened that last day I saw Neal, I was simply unable to come up with an explanation. I tried to convince myself unsuccessfully that my pregnancy hormones got the better of me, but I knew that was not true. I had slept with him again simply because I wanted him, no excuses. His presence captivated me—mind, body and soul. However, there was no point in thinking of all that now. When he had wanted to be closer to me, I had pushed him away because of my own doubts and insecurities. Now he was engaged to another woman, and I was pregnant with his child. I admit that I hadn’t even considered the idea of telling Neal anything because I did not expect him to dump his fiancée and come running to me. Hell, I didn’t even expect him to actually accept that the child was his. I simply thought about letting him know because he had the right to know.

So when he had texted me, asking to see me, there was only one answer–
yes
. I had driven to Ghyslain the next day by myself. I arrived a few minutes past three, but when I saw him sitting by himself, looking down into his coffee and waiting for me, something had broken inside me and I had burst into tears.

I had ruined everything.

We belonged together—it was so evident that we simply belonged together, from the way he had wanted me initially, and I had been utterly oblivious to it. I had given in to doubts and insecurities and had driven us apart when, from the very beginning, he had tried and tried to bring us closer. And when I had pushed him away with as much coldness as I could, it was natural that he had found himself a woman who wanted him. I could not ruin his life twice. I had done enough damage by sleeping with him while he was engaged to someone else. I could not take another step that would completely unravel his life and make everything even more complicated for him. No, what I needed to do was simple enough. So I had wiped my tears, backed the car out of the parking lot, and driven away, leaving him to sit there by himself for another hour. Hopefully, it was going to be the last act on my behalf to deliberately hurt him.

When I got home, Ella was in the kitchen. “I’m making dinner!” she yelled without turning around.

I walked over to the counter and hoisted myself onto a stool. “I have to go to work—could you save me some?” I asked.

“Of course,” she replied, turning around. “Everything okay with you?”

I looked at her for a few seconds, then sighed. “Maybe you should sit,” I said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

Ella wiped her hands on a dish towel. “Sure. What’s going on?”

“I’m pregnant.”

She didn’t say anything for a full five minutes. Once she had recovered her ability to form words, she started blabbering so fast she was difficult to understand.

“I’m ten weeks in,” I said. She gave me a good, long stare that perfectly communicated her question. “I can’t tell you who the father is,” I said.

Silence ensued.

“Ella, you’re my best friend and literally the only family I have, but I can’t tell you,” I said in exasperation, even though she was yet to say a word.

She took a deep breath. “It’s all right,” she said finally. “Don’t get upset. I’ll try not to ask any questions.”

Characteristically, she didn’t quite live up to that promise as the days went by. She would spring the question at me at the oddest of times, hoping to shock me into responding. I was, however, not that easy to break. It was one secret I was determined to keep to myself.

Spring turned into summer as my pregnancy grew more obvious, and despite her annoyance with me for not telling her about the father, Ella was taking very good care of me. Neither of us had any idea what we were in for, but Ella was much more nervous than I was. During one recent bout of nausea, she told me I needed to stop going to work immediately. It ended with me making her a cup of lemongrass tea and calming
her
down.

One day, I arrived at work later than usual one evening and Derrick Swanson gave me a reproachful stare. It was not a good feeling. Derrick was a parental figure for me, and I didn’t like when he looked at me as if he were disappointed in me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, walking hastily towards him. “I wasn’t feeling well.”

“Why are you apologizing for not feeling well, dear girl?” he asked.

“Um… because I’m late,” I said, uncertain.

“You are only three minutes late and early on every other day,” Derrick chuckled. “It’s all right.”

“But I thought . . . never mind,” I finished hastily.

“No, it’s okay. There is something I want to talk about with you, though,” he said.

“Yes, please, go ahead,” I added.

“The café is going to be closed for a private event tomorrow,” he said. “Something small—I reckon, only two people. Anyway, they’ve asked for only one server, so I am leaving you in charge. It’s time-and-a-half pay.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” I beamed. I needed the extra money.

***

I arrived early at the café the next evening. Derrick was out of town and the other waitresses were off. Most of the tables in the café had been pushed to the side, leaving only one table for two in the center. The chef was in the kitchen, preparing a single molten-lava cake like his life depended on it. I didn’t want to interrupt his concentration, so I left to set the table.

After setting the table, I went back to talk to the chef about what was going on. He had no clue. I emerged from the kitchens to see if anything else needed to be done in the dining area, and saw a man standing by the table I had just set up, his back to me.

I cleared my throat. “Hello, sir.” Before I could get another word out of my mouth, however, Neal Callaway turned around.

He wore a pale blue shirt with khaki pants, his sleeves rolled up in the hot summer evening. His hair looked like he had just rolled out of bed, but I knew it had been carefully arranged to look like that. He was growing a slight beard, which suited him more than any I had ever seen. The sun was setting outside, and in the dim light in the café, he looked heartbreakingly handsome.

“Hi,” he said, smiling.

Every nerve in my body screamed to turn around and run, but my feet were glued to the floor. The more I looked at him, the more I felt like I would never be able to move my feet again.

My breath hitched in my throat, and my heart was ready to burst. The man I fell in love with the first time I saw him, the father of the baby I was carrying, and one of the most coveted men in the country, stood before me, smiling at me.

“I—I,” I stuttered, not sure what to say. He walked to me, took me in his arms, and put a finger on my lips before I could say a word.

As I looked up at him, deep inside me I felt as if I could look at his face all my life and not have enough. I could have him to myself for the rest of my life and still not have enough of him. Tears sprang into my eyes as I thought of how much we could have had together. His face moved closer to mine and caught a single tear that fell onto my cheek with his lips. A sharp breath escaped my mouth. His lips hovered over my cheeks before moving to my lips. I was paralyzed. I didn’t know what to think or do. I was prepared to resist when he kissed me, but my resolution flew out the window as soon as he did. I felt his lips on mine and forgot everything else.

I kissed him back, urgently and passionately. His fingers were in my hair at the back of my neck, and my arms were around his neck. I closed my eyes and felt light as a feather, as though I were the only person on earth without a single care.

And then, all of a sudden, I was out of breath and terribly lightheaded. I ended the kiss and drew a couple of deep breaths. The room spun around me as Neal’s face swam in and out of focus in front of my eyes.