“Roselle doesn’t think so.”
“Well, she’s missing out on a good husband, and I know you’ll be an excellent father.”
“Really?” Doubts plagued him, though the prospect of becoming a father excited him.
“I raised you, darling. Of course you will be.” She patted his hand, but then a frown wrinkled her brow. “Though at times, I wonder if I failed you. Maybe if I’d been stricter, like your father suggested…” She shook her head, frowning in consternation.
“You didn’t fail. Thank you for always being there, during the good times and the bad. Thank you for never turning your back on me during my fu—screwups. Everything you did, I appreciate. I didn’t appreciate what I had before, but I do now. Unconditional love—that’s what you’ve always given us. Yes, sometimes you stifle us.” She arched a brow, and he laughed at her expression. “But I know everything you do comes from a good place. A place of love. And…” His voice thickened as he thought of the rejection Roselle and others like her faced from people who should protect them and have their back. “I no longer take you for granted. You helped shape me into the man I am today. Thank you, Mother.”
The corners of her eyes crinkled into a smile, and she cupped his cheek. “I love you, my darling.”
“I love you, too.”
Chapter 28
Stephan stared up at the ceiling. “I have to go to work.”
“Work?” the brunette beside him repeated.
“Yeah. I work now.” He rolled out of bed in a pair of boxers and ran a palm over the stubble on his jaw.
“Since when?”
Continuing toward the bathroom, he didn’t answer. He wasn’t in the mood to have a conversation.
They didn’t have sex last night, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. He’d convinced himself that he should go back to life before Roselle. Why tie his peace of mind to one woman when so many others were available?
He’d enjoyed Lara before, and that’s why he’d invited her over after the birthday dinner at his parents’ penthouse. But his penis refused to cooperate. Roselle had control of his mind, heart, and body. How long was this going to continue? He hadn’t been with a woman since they last made love, and that was two months ago! His longest drought on record.
He stared at his image, but his vision became clouded by thoughts of bouncy, shoulder-length hair and expressive eyes. Of Roselle licking Nutella from the corner of her mouth, as they walked along the streets of Paris. Of eating a chocolate torte in a semi-lit bakery, and then running in the rain back to their apartment and making love—their damp bodies sliding together in the soft sheets.
Yesterday was his birthday, and for the first time in years, he hadn’t thrown a party. He’d received dozens of calls and texts beforehand to find out the location of the party, and on his birthday to wish him a happy thirtieth. His Instagram page had been inundated with best wishes from strangers and celebrity acquaintances.
Despite all that, he opted to spend a quiet evening with family. Sylvie, because she’d promised not to interfere, wanted to fix one of his problems, and arranging the dinner was her way of doing something to make him feel better. So he’d accepted her invitation for dinner with the immediate family and their spouses.
There were moments during the celebration when Roselle entered his thoughts. For instance, when Trevor brought out a big cake with lit candles in the shape of the number thirty, which Sophia and Hannah helped him blow out. That moment reminded him of Roselle’s birthday in Paris and how pleased she’d been with the chocolate cake. And how good he’d felt making her happy.
He put toothpaste on his brush.
He hadn’t spoken to her yet. The day after he and his mother talked, he left a voicemail letting her know they’d called off the attorneys. An hour later, he received a text.
Thank you.
That was it. Nothing else. She never asked how he was doing. She didn’t suggest they get together and synchronize their calendars around her appointments. But why would she? He was the idiot who thought they’d had something special. He’d cared too much and made the ultimate mistake. He’d fallen in love with her.
When she broke up with him, she took a chunk of his heart, leaving only enough for him to survive. And that’s what he’d do. Survive. He and Roselle were not going to be in a romantic relationship, so moving forward, his primary focus was his child.
They needed to talk about co-parenting, but until then, he had to go to work.
He didn’t go to work.
Stephan called in sick, went to Roselle’s building, and sat outside her apartment in the hallway. He knocked earlier, but she didn’t open the door. He called, but there was no answer. So he decided to wait. Every now and again, he stood and walked around, stretching his legs and making sure his butt didn’t go numb on the hard floor. Otherwise, he remained in place. She had to leave sometime.
The elevator pinged in the distance, and his head swung to the right to see who was coming. Kay, Roselle’s roommate, came down the hall with the handle of a paper sack in each hand. She wasn’t traveling this week, and they’d seen each other earlier when she left to go to the grocery store.
“You’re still here?” Kay wore glasses, and her dirty blonde hair was cut in a page boy style with long bangs that touched her lashes.
“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” He talked a good game, but pretty soon his bladder might force him to leave, if only for a few minutes.
“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”
Stephan stood. “You need help with those bags?”
She shook her head. “You’re insane.”
He shrugged. “I’ve been told.”
Kay set the bags on the floor. She opened the door and paused before closing it. “I’ll let her know you’re out here.” She actually seemed sympathetic.
“Thanks.” He doubted it would make a difference, but it couldn’t hurt to be hopeful.
Stephan shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned back against the wall, resting his head and closing his eyes. Five minutes later, the door opened.
His heart leaped in his chest. He hadn’t seen Roselle since September. She had a baby bump, made obvious by the way the white T-shirt hugged her middle.
“Hey,” she said.
“Hey.” He was so relieved that she was speaking to him, he didn’t move.
“I wasn’t sure about talking to you. Those documents I received from your attorney were pretty scary.”
They were supposed to be scary and overwhelming to frighten her into changing her mind. “I know, but I promise that’s all over and done with.”
She gnawed the side of her mouth. “You want to come in?”
He swallowed. “Yeah.”
Roselle let Stephan inside and led him back to her bedroom since Kay was in the kitchen unpacking groceries and might overhear them if they remained in the living room.
Back to the dresser, she stood with her hands clasped before her. Her eyes ate him up after they’d been apart for so long. He knew how to command a room. Feet apart, he wore a black jacket and white shirt underneath and the ever-present Vacheron Constantin timepiece on his wrist—the type of clothing he typically wore to work.
“Happy belated birthday,” she said.
His eyebrows raised as if he were surprised she knew about it. She’d peeped at his Instagram account a couple of days ago and seen where people were asking about plans for his birthday party, but he never responded.
“Thanks.” He rubbed his hands together. “I don’t want to take up a lot of your time. I came by to make you a revised offer. Forget about getting married. I thought about a compromise where you can get the support you need, and I can be close to the baby in this process.”
“I’m listening,” Roselle said quietly, warily.
“I want you to move in with me.” He lifted a palm toward her. “Before you protest, hear me out. There’s plenty of space at the house, and I already talked to Reese, and he doesn’t
mind. No one would bother you, and you’d have your own bedroom and bathroom. No strings, no requirements, except to keep me up-to-date on what’s happening with your appointments and the health of our baby.”
“That’s very unconventional. Won’t that put a cramp in your dating life?”
“My dating life is nonexistent right now, and besides, I’m more concerned about making sure you’re okay, and you deliver a healthy baby.”
Still no mention of love for her, but it was clear he loved their unborn child already. She’d be greedy to ask for more, and the truth was, she was running out of money and hadn’t been able to find work—part-time or full-time—since she left SJ Brands. She’d be in real trouble soon. No one wanted to hire a visibly pregnant woman.
Roselle stared down at her fingers. Could she handle living in such close proximity to Stephan and not be able to touch him, the way she ached to do right now? Not have him touch her?
She’d been scared to death when she received those papers from the attorney’s office that threatened to take her baby, wondering where she could find a lawyer with the experience and skill Stephan’s family easily afforded, to fight them on equal footing.
At times, when loneliness overwhelmed her, she felt as if she were coming apart at the seams. Kay was nice, but they weren’t that close. She wished she had someone to talk to. She lacked peace of mind because she had no one to share her deepest fears with.
She had to hold it together. If not for herself, for the baby she carried.
“I know what happened to you at sixteen.”
Roselle’s head snapped up. “What did you say?” His words reverberated like sound waves inside her chest.
Compassion filled his eyes. “I know what happened, and I know you had to relive the ordeal three years ago when you testified on behalf of his widow.”
Her fingers tightened around each other. “You researched my background?” she asked in a hoarse whisper.
“I wanted to understand you.”
What did he think of her now? Roselle closed her arms around her torso and lowered her gaze, steeling herself for the blow of condemnation. If he judged her, too, she would fall apart.
“What happened to you was terrible. That guy was a piece of shit.” He spoke with such bitterness in his voice, she lifted her gaze.
He didn’t blame her, but she saw pity in his eyes. “So now you feel sorry for me.”
“Yes, I do feel sorry for you. I won’t apologize for caring. No one should have to go through what you did or the aftermath when the people you knew turned their backs on you because they didn’t believe you or because they blamed you for your own attack. I wanted… I wanted to kill that guy, but he’s already dead.” His right hand had curled into a fist, ready to strike out at the invisible danger.
Charles was long gone, but the demons from that night never completely left. She longed to rush into Stephan’s arms and get the comfort she craved but pressed her back against the dresser to fight the urge.
“How long can I stay at your house?”
“As long as you want.”
“What about Kay? I have to give her notice. I can’t abandon her.”
“I’ll take care of whatever you owe her and make sure she’s set for a few months until she finds a new roommate. What else?”
The urge to run into his arms again overwhelmed her, but the distance between them precluded that. It was—figuratively and might as well be physically—as wide as the Atlantic Ocean.
“I guess there’s nothing else. I accept your revised offer,” she said softly.
Chapter 29
“We did it!” Marcus exclaimed. He looked like he’d won the lottery.
Stephan touched his glass against Marcus’s and Jayson’s glasses as they sat around a table on the company’s private jet. After months of research, long-distance conversations, and visits to São Paulo, they signed a distribution deal with a Brazilian chain hours earlier. All their hard work had finally paid off.
Marcus let Stephan take the lead on the project, and Stephan pulled in Jayson. They’d developed a great work relationship. Jayson was an asset to the team and quite smart once he dialed back the eagerness and inappropriate comments.
Stephan let the cool champagne wash down his throat. Stretching his legs, he loosened his tie and glanced out the window.
A lot had happened in the past four months, with time skipping along quickly and one day running into the next. Trenton and Alannah had a baby boy in December, and Simone had delivered a healthy baby boy back in October and had taken time off from her work for the family’s foundation to be with her newborn.
He had received his inheritance on January first without fanfare, and Reese had moved out of the house, stating it was time for him to get his own place. Meanwhile, Malik and his fiancée Lindsay were in the midst of planning a wedding. SJ Brands signed a deal with Rue de la Mode and work had already begun on the designs.
The living situation between him and Roselle was still problematic. They stayed in the same house but lived somewhat separate lives, managing to be cordial and friendly when they ran into each other or ate a meal together. Roselle let him know about checkups and anything concerning the baby. Otherwise, they kept their interactions to a minimum.
He offered to hire a decorator for the nursery, but she preferred to design the room herself and had already changed her mind several times because she wanted everything to be perfect. The white walls had at first been painted pastel green, but now they were pale yellow. Her latest project was stenciling jungle animals onto the walls.
The stress of remaining on the periphery and keeping his distance had taken a toll. He didn’t get much sleep nowadays when the woman he loved was right down the hall, and the pending birth of his first child made him second-guess the type of father he’d be. He’d only recently started being responsible and taking care of himself. How was he supposed to take care of a completely helpless human being who depended on him?
“You have big plans when you get back?” Marcus asked.
“Nothing but rest and relaxation,” Stephan answered.
“Same. The past few days have been exhausting, but it was all worth it,” Jayson said.
“Everything else okay?” Marcus asked.
“Everything else is fine,” Stephan answered.
People at work knew he and Roselle were having a baby together and that she’d moved in with him, but they never came right out and said her name or asked specifically unless he broached the subject. It was comical the way they tiptoed around the topic. He learned Inez was the person who had tipped off his mother about eating lunch with Roselle and their affair months ago, but he didn’t think she was the leak to staff about the baby and their living arrangements. She was way too loyal to his mother to disclose that news. It was simply information that managed to become known somehow.
Online, rumors were floating around that he’d gotten someone pregnant, but no one knew for sure, and since he didn’t post about it or respond to questions on his social media, the rumors didn’t generate enough interest for anyone to do further digging. That was fine with him. He’d seen what happened when his cousin Gavin’s girlfriend had become pregnant with twins. Gavin had a much larger social media presence than Stephan, and people had been ruthless, calling his woman all kinds of names and accusing her of trapping him. He wanted to avoid the same catastrophe with Roselle.
“Well, fellas, I’m going to get some rest. Wake me up when we land.” Marcus drained his glass and then went to lie down on the sofa. Within minutes, his snores filled the cabin. Jayson reclined his chair and started reading on his tablet, which meant Stephan was on his own for entertainment for the next nine hours.
He removed his phone from his pocket and thumbed through the photo gallery. He stopped at a photo of Roselle asleep on one of the high-backed chairs in the theater room. Her lips were slightly parted, and both hands rested on her belly. She always fell asleep watching movies, if not during the fi
rst, definitely by the second. He’d taken the photo on impulse, to tease her about it and provide evidence to her denials that she fell asleep during movies. But then he remembered they didn’t have that kind of playful relationship anymore. So he simply looked at it and wished their relationship was different.
Stephan walked into the kitchen. Paula, his house manager, was in there wiping down one of the counters. She was an older white woman with wrinkles around her eyes and a long gray braid that landed in her lower back.
She turned at the sound of him setting his briefcase and jacket on the counter.
“Hi, Stephan, are you hungry?”
“Not really. I might eat a couple of pieces of toast or something and then head upstairs.”
“The maid service will be late next week, and the nutritionist wanted me to ask you one more time if you’re sure you don’t want her to recommend some keto meals to you.”
“What is it with her and the keto diet? I’m not interested. Ask if she’s sure she wants to continue being my nutritionist and see what she says.” Stephan pulled open the refrigerator door.
“What are you looking for?”
“Peach jam. Are we out?”
Paula walked over to the cabinet and took down a fresh jar of his favorite peach jam.
He stared at her in disbelief. “Paula, you like me.” Every time she wanted to punish him, she’d “forget” his jam.
“Don’t get carried away. I only bought it because your wife reminded me and I want to make a good impression on her.” She walked past him toward the door.
“I don’t have a wife, Paula,” he said.
“Not yet,” she called back.
He shook his head. She continued to predict that he and Roselle would get married. Based on what, he had no idea. She never saw them being affectionate. They were more like acquaintances than former lovers.
He made the toast and slathered each side with butter and jam. Seated at the island, he ate his midnight snack and sipped a beer. A smile spread across his face when a message popped up on his phone from Sylvie. A big deal since she seldom texted.
Two Nights in Paris Page 18
