Chapter Forty-Eight
Samantha
I didn't want to go home. After the party, I got into my car and drove around town, unsure where to go. I felt alone. I wondered what it would be like to go home to Drake, to curl up in front of the fireplace in his home with the smell of the ocean drifting in from outside.
I never gave him a chance. I knew people were different than when they were kids, but I used my memories and his tabloid reputation to cloud my judgement of him. I thought about what a coward I was when I left his house in the middle of the night. Why didn't I think I could have it all? A job I was proud of and the man of my dreams.
Hitting the redial button on my phone, I hoped Jackie was still up.
"Hey girl!" she greeted me.
"Hi, I was hoping you were still up."
"Of course I am, it’s not even midnight. What's up? Hey, didn't you have that Wainwright party tonight? How'd it go?"
"Okay, I guess. Can I come by? I'm only a few minutes away."
"Sure. Everything okay?"
"I just need to talk."
As I pulled into a space in front of Jackie's apartment building, I saw Jackie standing in the doorway wearing baggie grey sweats with her arms around her as if she was cold.
"What's up?" she asked as I entered the building. "I can tell from your voice that something is going on. Something serious. Did you flambé Drake at the party?" she grinned playfully.
"Ha, no. I did make an ass of myself as usual though. I knocked over the coffee cups," I groaned. "I'm sure I won't be asked there again."
"Don't worry about that. From what I hear, that old goat Wainwright is a sweetheart. I'm sure he won't care."
As she opened the door to her apartment, I could tell she was dying to ask or tell me something else. I ignored her for a moment as I entered the small apartment.
Sometimes I forgot Jackie was still finishing school, but her apartment reminded me of that. Large textbooks were stacked in a corner next to the small tan and brown tweed couch. Her furniture looked like something you found at a rummage sale, but she made the place warm and welcoming.
Taking a seat on the couch, I could tell she was ready to burst. I had a feeling she was going to ask about Drake and considered torturing her a little longer, but I gave in.
"What? What is it?"
"Ugh, finally! Like you don't know," she said, laughing. "You didn't mention anything about Drake. Did you see him? Talk to him? What happened? I'm dying here!"
"Of course I saw him. Why do you think I knocked over the cups?" I laughed and was glad I was able to find it funny. "He came to the back and it was the usual. How he thinks we're meant to be or some crap like that."
"What did you say?"
"I told him we weren't and that he was fooling himself. I told him I want nothing to do with him."
"Why are you being like this? For as long as I've known you, it’s been Drake. He's the guy you measure all other guys against despite how much you claim to hate him."
"Well, I was stupid. I was letting the kid in me run the show. Not anymore. I need to build my catering business and I have to focus on that. I'm doing alright right now, but I still don't have a lot going on. Everything can crumble at any minute." I burst into tears and hid my face in my hands. "What's wrong with me?"
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong with you. Well, except that you're stubborn." She grinned at me and I knew she was trying to make me laugh.
"I'm so emotional lately. And sensitive. Everything is making me cry."
"Maybe you're just PMSing."
"Well, then this is the longest PMS I've ever had," I said then looked at her as I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. "I'm late."
"Late? You mean..."
"I don't know. I don't want to know. I'm not ready. I'm just starting my business and I don't have enough yet to take care of myself, let alone someone else."
"Is it..." she let her voice trail off before whispering, "Drake's?"
"I'm not a slut! Of course it is! Jeez Jackie, thanks a lot."
"Okay, okay! I guess, well, you know, you were just talking about not having money and how he said you were meant to be."
"I'm not going to take advantage of him because we didn't play it safe."
"You're not taking advantage of him. I think he'd want to know."
"No. I'm not telling him. The last thing I want is to be his baby mama. Ugh, I can see the headlines already. I can figure this out and I'll take care of everything myself."
"I really think you should talk to him. You've always cared about him, he's been the big crush of your life. You kind of grew up together. It’s not like you don't know each other."
"No. Absolutely not. I can do all of this myself. The last thing I want is his pity, or even worse, to just get paid off like some kind of prostitute. My mom figured it out on her own and I turned out just fine. If she could do it, I can too."
Jackie rolled her eyes at me and shook her head. "Gosh, you're stubborn," she said then smiled softly at me. "You know I'm here too and I'll help you out however I can. What are friends for? But first things first--you have to find out if you're pregnant or not. Then you can be as stubborn as you want," she said as she grinned then hugged me. "Whatever happens, everything will be okay. I'm sure of it."
Part Five
Xander and Ashley
Chapter Forty-Nine
Ashley
"You are quitting your job, and that's final!" Xander commanded.
Sitting in Xander's home office down the hall from our bedroom, I watched him pace the floor behind his massive wood desk.
"No! I want to work. I have my dream job. You know that. You know I dreamed about managing a museum and curating the collection. This job is a dream come true."
"It's ridiculous, Ashley," he said. "You realize I'm a billionaire, right? You shouldn't be working."
"I'm not an idiot! This isn't about making money. This is about my life. My identity. I love being Mrs. Xander Boone, but sometimes I need to be Ashley, too."
He stopped pacing and looked at me. Behind him, the large window showed the tree-lined driveway which led to the house. We had been in his office on the second floor of our home arguing for over an hour.
Watching him, I saw the fierce look on his face that once intimidated soften into the Xander I fell in love with. He knelt on the floor in front of the chair I sat in and clasped my hand in his.
"Do you have any idea what I went through a couple months ago? I thought I lost you."
"You mean the photo with Drake? You can't seriously say--"
"No, of course not that. I know how the media makes things up. I'm talking about when you collapsed. When I brought you to the hospital."
"But it was nothing. I'm fine. And that's when we found out I'm pregnant."
"Exactly! Don't you see that's even more of a reason for me to worry about you? First I thought you could be sick. I already lost one wife, I don't think I could live through losing you. And now you're pregnant. We're having a baby. I need to protect you even more."
"But I'm healthy. There's no reason why I can't work."
He sighed then got up and started pacing again.
"Can't you just humor me? For once? There's a lot that needs to be done before he arrives. We need to set up a nursery, make sure you have everything you need and are comfortable. I don't want to think about you working at some stupid museum on your feet all day. I want you home. Resting. You don't plan on working after the baby comes anyway. Why can't you stop now?"
"Alright, fine," I said as I sighed. "You're right. I don't know why I'm being so stubborn about it. I just…I don't want to lose myself."
"Not working doesn't mean you lose yourself. You'll always be Ashley," he said as he knelt down in front of me again. "My Ashley."
He leaned forward and kissed me and the room spun. It didn't matter how long we had been together, his kiss, his touch, sometimes just his presence was still enough to make me dizzy. My h
eart raced as his strong lips lingered on mine and try as I might, I couldn't help but let out a soft giggle as the kiss ended and I looked into his ice-blue eyes.
"Okay. I'll talk to Deborah about taking my position and then transition everything over to her."
His office line rang before he had a chance to respond. As I entered the hall, I heard his tone deepen with anger. He quickly crossed the room and closed the huge door. I stopped in the hall, wondering why he would close his office door. It wasn't something he normally did no matter who he spoke with. Straining to listen, I heard the furious tone of his voice rise and was glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that phone call. But who was?
* * *
The next morning, I gave in and had Xander drop me off at Drake's museum. Ever since we found out I was pregnant, Xander became even more protective than he was before.
It was hard on me though. I liked my independence and missed feeling like I was in control of my own life. Normally I wouldn't have given in and quit my job, but I knew I wanted to be home for the baby. I didn't want a nanny or anyone else raising our child.
Blowing a kiss to Xander as I climbed the many steps leading up to the main entrance, I could see the worry in his face. I knew quitting was the right decision. I just wanted him to be as happy as he made me. Leaving a few months earlier than I planned wasn't a big deal.
The wind whipped past and I grabbed my black coat and tried closing it around me as I entered the building. While I hadn't put on much weight in the months I had been pregnant, my stomach looked like I was shoplifting a volleyball.
As my flats padded down the marble floored hall to the museum offices, I realized I hadn't told Drake I was leaving. Now that everything had been set up and ran smoothly, he was hardly in the museum anymore. Plus, he seemed to be back to his old ways. I doubted he ever did much work.
Deborah sat at her desk typing as I entered. Her black chin length hair fell forward, covering her face like a veil as she looked over her notes. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the brick red jersey v-neck blouse with three-quarter length sleeves she wore.
"Cute blouse! Where'd you get it? I love that color," I said.
"Thanks, I made it. I actually make most of my clothes."
"Really? I had no idea. You always wear the cutest things."
Suddenly I was aware of my pre-pregnancy coat that couldn't close, stretchy pregnancy pants, and empire waist purple printed top. I didn't see the point in buying a new coat when the weather was warming up, but I had to wear pregnancy clothes. I wished they were a little more fashionable.
"Yeah, it’s my thing. My grandma was a seamstress and taught me how to sew when I was really young. Been doing it ever since."
"I'm impressed. I can't even sew a button," I said laughing. "Hey, I'd like to talk to you. Can you come in my office for a minute?"
Opening the door at the back of the room, I turned on the lights in my office. It was small with a window that opened to the street behind the museum. Not much of a view, but I wasn't there to daydream. In the corner, I set up a small area with two modern plastic grey chairs and a birch end table between them. Sometimes Deborah and I ate our lunches there when the museum was especially crowded. I sat in one of the chairs and she took the other seat.
"Am I in trouble?" she asked.
"No, oh goodness no," I said with a laugh.
"You just look so serious."
"Sorry, just a lot on my mind lately. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about when I leave. I thought I would be here for another few months, but there's been a change of plans. You've been really great helping me here. I can't imagine anyone else doing it, so I'd love it if you would take the job."
"What? Your job? No, I can't--"
"Yes, you can. You can do this. And if you need anything, you can just call me. Or Drake," I stopped before saying 'if you can find him'.
"It's not that, Ashley. I've actually been thinking about leaving. You know I've been going to school. I haven't talked about it much, but I'm close to graduating."
"Then you can stay here until you decide what you want to do."
"I know what I want to do. I've been going to school all this time for fashion. I need to find something so I'm closer to that. Anything in fashion." She smiled at me before continuing. "It means so much to me that you think I could take over your position, but it’s not my dream. If I took the job, I'd get lazy. I'd probably stay here forever and always think about the things I wished I did instead. I'd regret it."
"Trust me, I understand, Deb," I said, thinking back to my brief stint as a waitress just to make some money. "You need to follow your dream. Is there anything I can do? I have a friend who is a designer, maybe he can help. I'm sure he has some contacts."
"Sure, I'd love to talk to him. Even if it’s just to pick his brain. I'd love to have my own line. My dream is to show my line at Fashion Week. Any Fashion Week. New York, Milan, London, Paris, I really don't care where," she said, her voice sounding more excited as she spoke.
Looking across at her, I could tell just talking about it reinvigorated her. I never saw her so animated and full of life.
"Then you have to go for it. I'm sure it would make your grandma proud. I'll give Joshua a call and give him your number. Let me know if there's anything else I can do to help."
"Thank you, but you've done enough. You've been so flexible with my schedule and everything, I wouldn't have been able to finish school without this job."
"Well, when you're a famous designer, I hope you'll make something for me to wear."
"You bet!"
Chapter Fifty
Xander
Leaving Ashley at the museum, I couldn't help but worry. I wasn't worried about her working. I simply didn't want her to work. Ashley should have everything she ever dreamed of and while she claimed she wanted a job, I really didn't believe it. I thought she'd be happier with a life of leisure, having her days to herself. Plus there was a lot to be done before the baby's arrival.
The baby. Our son. I couldn't hide my smile whenever I thought about him. A daughter would have made me just as happy, but I already had so many plans for what my son and I would do together. Things my own father was too busy to do when I was a child.
Letting out a short snort as I moved the car back into traffic, my thoughts returned to Ashley and the secrets I kept from her. I had no choice but to keep her in the dark. I didn't want her worrying about anything while she was pregnant. It was up to me to take care of providing for her and after the phone call yesterday, I didn't know if I could do that.
Whizzing in and out of traffic, I made it to my lawyer's office in minutes. The building was affectionately referred to as the "Pagoda Building". With only five floors, it was much smaller than the tall modern skyscrapers that filled the downtown skyline but was probably better known.
The Pagoda Building had dark, brownish-red tiered eaves marking each floor. Each eave winged upwards at the corners and was the reason for the building's nickname. The only hint at the state-of-the-art facilities housing Kensington and Associates were the glass walls circling each floor instead of stone, which a traditional pagoda would have.
The building's interior was an open space with ivory walls and a modern glass staircase designed so the steps appeared to be floating. In the center was an atrium where the receptionist sat near a rectangular koi pond. Surrounding the open space were glass-enclosed offices and conference rooms. As I walked past the tall light wood structure the receptionist sat at, I heard her speak quietly into the intercom.
"Sir, Mr. Boone is on his way."
I climbed the steps two at a time, passing others who weren't in as much of a hurry. I needed to get to the bottom of this situation, and it had to happen as soon as possible.
Donald Kensington sat behind his old-fashioned mahogany desk. The concrete jungle honked and buzzed on the other side of the glass behind him. Despite the modern offices, Don's office was very traditional. Dressed in a tailored, pinstripe
navy suit similar to what I wore, he cut a striking image in his leather executive chair and reminded me of visiting my father in his own office when I was a child.
"Always good to see you, Alexander," he said as he put his hand out to shake mine. "Even in these not so pleasant circumstances."
"Don, I'm not here socially. Just cut to the chase," I growled.
He laughed and shook his head as he perched on the edge of his desk. "Just like your father. And if it wasn't for that beard of yours, you'd be the spitting image of him. Why I remember back when he and I were in law school--"
"Don!"
"Yes, yes. Well, this problem isn't going away so quickly. As of right now, I've done all I can do. They'll freeze all your assets by the end of the week."
My stomach twisted and I sat down on one of his classic red leather chairs. Leaning forward, I put my head in my hands.
"For how long?"
"Until they're sure you weren't involved."
Sighing, I sat up. "Explain this to me again. I thought all my investors were legit."
"I've been in touch with your CPA, and everything seems fine. As far as we can tell, one of your first investors became greedy and got involved in some shady deals. I reached out to some old friends, and it looks like this happened after that initial investment with you."
"Then why are they freezing my assets?"
"They need to make certain the funds you used were clean. If they weren't, we have a bigger problem on our hands. They could indict you on laundering charges."
"That's bullshit!" I stood up and started to pace the room. "I returned his investment with his profit share. That's all. I did nothing wrong."
My Boss’s Whim Page 17
