Unrequited (Books Like Fifty Shades of Grey) (2 page)

But how?
He found it impossible to trust any woman he dated. He'd been burned too many times. How could he hope to find someone he could trust to raise a child. Come to that, how could he find a woman he could trust not to fight for his fortune herself?

Unless...
Do I dare ask her? What if she says no?

John slid smoothly into the back seat of his limo, the door held open by his attentive, elderly driver Carl. His young assistant, Amy, set down her phone and poured him a drink from the minibar.

'Good meeting? How's Arn?'

John laughed, taking the scotch gratefully. 'Still a loveable teddy bear. Let's get hot dogs.' He tapped on the glass behind the driver. 'Gray's Papaya, Carl, and don't spare the horses.'

Chapter Three

Amy had come to work for John fresh out of college. After studying electronics for four years she'd become interested in his tech company, Trent Enterprises, and when the opportunity arose for an internship in his New York headquarters she'd jumped at the chance, despite the fact that she couldn't afford an unpaid position and had to work a night job just to pay the rent.

Three months later John had visited and she'd sat in on a meeting about the latest release, an imaging system that would allow brain surgeons to train on 3D projections. Amy hadn't slept in days, and she'd just come off the night shift at her telemarketing job. The meeting had been heated from the moment John had announced he intended to donate one of the million dollar systems to every major hospital in the US.

Amy shouldn't have been there at all. The discussion was way above her pay grade, but when the boss of her boss made a remark about the technology that was just plain wrong - even to her addled, sleep deprived mind - she couldn't help but correct him.

She was ordered angrily out of the room, and ten minutes later she received an email to inform her she'd been reassigned. She went home for the weekend depressed, and it wasn't until Monday that she realized she'd been hired as John's personal assistant. Apparently he'd liked her spunk.

That had been three years ago, and since then she'd found herself thrown into a world of high level negotiations with foreign governments, glitzy parties with Hollywood celebrities and, more than once, to John's hospital bedside after yet another death defying stunt gone wrong.

She loved John for all his flaws, but she despaired at his impulsiveness, his reckless behavior and the poor choices he made in everything but business. His personal life was a train wreck, and it was always Amy's job to pick up the pieces after another failed relationship. Even so she adored her job, and she thanked John every day for giving her such an opportunity. She owed him everything.

Chapter Four

'Did I ever tell you about the time I streaked down Broadway?'

Amy rolled her eyes and smiled. 'Yes, John, you tell that story every time we eat here. Sometimes I think you only bring me here as an excuse to describe your swinging dick.'

John grinned boyishly, ignoring her. Amy thought he looked like a shy little kid when he did that. 'Stopped right here at Gray's for a hot dog, and they just gave me a bun and a bottle of mustard. Sal over there said it looked like I'd brought my own sausage.'

Amy echoed the last line along with him. She'd heard the story at least once a month since she'd come to work for John, but it was never quite the same. Sometimes he was alone, and sometimes he brought along the clientele of a local bar. Amy knew the truth, though, as she'd seen his arrest record. He'd streaked with a couple of college girls from NYU, and he was out of his mind on acid. He never told that version.

'Hey, Sal!' he waved across the restaurant at the manager, who waved him away with mock disgust. 'Sal and I go way back.'

Amy couldn't help but break into a grin. She tried to be professional around John, but he just had a knack of making her laugh. Few could help but love him. It was just a shame he seemed to also have a knack for dating the few who could.

John buried his hot dog into his mouth, letting the mustard and ketchup mingle together and dribble down his chin. He ignored it and carried on talking with red and yellow blobs around his mouth. Amy reached out with a napkin to wipe away the sauce as he spoke. Sometimes, she thought, working for John was like taking care of a child.

'So Arn thinks I should have a baby,' he said, matter-of-factly.

Amy smiled, surprised. 'Really? Arn said that? He does understand you can barely dress yourself, right?'

'Of course he does. We shared a dorm room at college, remember? I don't think he saw me fully dressed for four years. It's probably why we're still so close.'

The smile fizzled out, and John was suddenly as sincere as he ever was. 'No, I'm serious. He's worried about what'll happen when I kick it. He thinks Ryan will end up with all my money, and you know what that'd be like.'

Amy knew all too well. Ryan had taken his first overdose soon after Amy had started working for John, and he'd stayed in John's Upper West Side apartment for a month after he was released from rehab. She knew that he wouldn't have the self control to survive real wealth.

'So he wants you to have a baby?'

'That's what he said. I think he may be right, too. Any way I play this I can't see it ending well if I die without an heir.'

'OK,' she said, slowly. 'So how does he suggest you go about creating this savior? Should I get out your little black book and call that girl who took your jet to Paris without telling you? How about the one who took a bribe to steal the plans for your heavy water reactor?
Oooh
, I know, I'll call Sarah, the girl who totaled your Veyron. She was precious.' Amy smiled, pretending to dial a number on her cell.

John wiped the remnants of sauce from his mouth, sat up straight on his stool and fixed his tie. 'Well actually, I do have someone in mind.'

Amy grinned. 'Oh? Who?'

John looked out onto the street, watching the lunchtime foot traffic hurry by. 'You.'

Chapter Five

The atmosphere was icy in the limo as it drove back to the office. Amy had barely spoken since they'd hit Fifth Avenue traffic.

'You really think Gray's Papaya was the best venue to tell me you want me to have your child?' she asked, abruptly.

John coughed nervously. 'Well... Yeah. Who doesn't love a hot dog? Where did you think I was gonna ask,
Sbarro?'

'John, I'm not joking around. This is serious.' She played with her phone, refusing to meet his eyes.

'OK, I'm sorry. I should have handled that better, clearly. But look, I'm deadly serious. Look at my serious face. Amy, I want you to have my child.'

Despite herself, Amy couldn't help wanting to smile at John's mock serious expression. She knew him well enough to know that he wasn't joking. She also knew him well enough to know that he couldn't
do
serious. He always hid behind humor when things got real.

'So why me? There must be a million women out there just desperate to play host to John Trent MkII. What's so special about me?'

John smiled. 'Amy, what isn't special about you? You're smart, loyal, funny... not to mention beautiful. Besides, you've been taking care of me for three years, and you've never once cheated on your expenses. I checked. More than anyone else in the world, I can trust you.'

He rapped on the glass partition behind the driver, indicating that he wanted to get off at his apartment. 'Look, just... think about it, OK? I'm not asking you to marry me, or even go on a date. Well, maybe we
should
go on a date. I have to go to Caracas in the morning, and I'll be gone three days. Have an answer for me when I get back?'

Amy still wanted to kick him out of the car and watch him get run over by a bike courier, but she nodded stiffly. 'OK, I'll think about it.'

He'd already begun to get out of the car, which had drawn to the front of his apartment west of the park. 'Excellent!
Hasta Jueves!
'

The car began to pull away again, and Amy sat deep in thought as she watched John chat animatedly with his doorman. She didn't know what to think. She'd been blindsided by John's request, but that wasn't the reason she'd been so annoyed. While there were many, many good reasons to refuse to have a child with that reckless, impulsive man, the biggest was that for two years now she'd known she was madly in love with him.

She'd first realized her feelings when she'd flown to Ulaanbaatar to collect him after an ill-fated solo trek across the Gobi Desert at the height of summer. He'd been near death when she reached the run-down hospital in the Mongolian capital, dehydrated and severely sunburned. The doctors were surprised he'd survived, and she was told it was touch and go whether he'd live to see the morning.

Amy had cried at his bedside all night, desperately willing him to wake up from his deep sleep. He'd been put under to shield him from the pain of his burns, but he should have woken already. Finally, just as the sun began to rise the following morning, John opened his eyes. He smiled through cracked, pale lips, and his first whispered words on seeing Amy were '
You look like hell. What happened to you?'

Since then she'd struggled to keep her feelings from coming to the surface. She didn't want to be just another in the endless roster of models and starlets who landed in his bed. She didn't want to be just another notch among many on his bedpost (and she knew he really did carve notches, where he thought nobody would look). Most of all she didn't want to jeopardize what she had with John. She was terrified that admitting her feelings towards him would change their relationship. The easy laughter between the two of them might fade away, become awkward. She couldn't bear to lose that connection.

This, though, was something she'd never even come close to considering. To have John's child... It was beyond absurd. What if he met some girl next year, five, ten years from now, fell in love and suddenly had no need for her and her baby? What if things turned sour between them? What if... what if?

The arguments against the idea piled high. It was ridiculous, unnatural and just another of the impulsive, poorly thought out decisions that had made John's personal life what it was.

Even so, she couldn't help but be attracted to the idea...

Chapter Six

'So what do you think? Wanna make a baby?'

Those were his first words as he arrived at the private terminal. John had flown himself back from Venezuela overnight and asked Amy to meet him off the plane. Amy stared at him for a moment, watching his expression. Beyond the signature grin she thought she could see something else. Hope? Desire, perhaps?

She sighed. 'I want to talk about this more before we do anything. I'm not promising anything, but if I decide to do it I'd want some serious ground rules.'

John smiled, pulling a manila folder from his briefcase. 'I agree. I took the liberty of asking Arn to draw up a contract for this very eventuality.' He held out the folder to her.

'You told Arn?
Jesus
, John! What were you thinking?' Amy snatched the folder angrily, preparing to throw it in the trash.

'Relax,' he grinned. 'I told him it was for a Venezuelan prostitute I picked up in Caracas. Arn suspects nothing.'

She fell heavily into the passenger seat of the Mercedes as John slid behind the wheel, and as he roared from the hangar she pulled out the single sheet of paper.

I hereby agree to carry the child of John Joseph Trent to term. I relinquish all rights of custody over the product of any union, and waive any right to the estate of John Joseph Trent upon his death.

The full estate of John Joseph Trent will pass to his heir, as detailed in a valid and legal Last Will and Testament.