The Penthouse Pact

by Cathryn Fox

  “Oh, God,” she moaned. “It must be the flu.”

  “Don’t move,” he said.

  Move? How could she possibly move? She felt like she’d just been run over again. He came back with water, and he ran a cloth under cool water as she rinsed her mouth.

  He put his arm around her waist when she wobbled. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

  He held her to him and settled her between the sheets. “You might not want to sleep with me and catch whatever I have.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  He tucked her in, and her lids fell shut as her stomach settled. But when morning came, she vomited again, and Parker insisted she stay in bed for the rest of the day. Before she knew it three days had passed with her living off nothing but water and crackers.

  When Parker wasn’t nursing her back to health, he was on his phone in the other room, always whispering to someone about something. He had to be missing a lot of work because of her, and even though she told him to go in to the office, he insisted on staying near her bedside.

  It was just after lunch when Parker stuck his head into the room. “Hey, feeling better?”

  “A little more human,” she said as she munched on a cracker.

  “I hate to leave you like this, but I have to run out for a bit. It’s sort of an emergency that only I can take care of. Will you be okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she lied. “Go, do whatever it is you need to do. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself,” she said, hating how much she actually liked him taking care of her, always being there for her.

  What the hell happened to the girl who never wanted to rely on a man for anything?

  Well done, Layla. Well done.

  After he left, she made her way to the bathroom and reached into her makeup bag for her toothbrush. Her hand connected with her birth control pills, and an uneasy feeling closed in on her.

  Birth control.

  Oh. My. God. No.

  No. No. No. No. No

  She backed away from the sink like it had just grown fangs and was about to bite her, and sagged against the wall. No way could she be pregnant. Her mind raced, and she did a mental calculation. She’d been waiting for her period to hit and finish before she opened her next blister pack but hadn’t realized it was so late. Oh Jesus, she’d missed her period and had been too caught up in Parker and Maine to realize it. But how could she be pregnant? She’d only missed taking her pill that first night Parker had forced her to come live with him, but she took it the next day when he brought her back to her place to collect her bathroom things.

  She walked back to the sink and looked at herself in the mirror, taking note of her features. Was this why she was putting on weight? She gripped the sides of the sink, squeezing until her knuckles turned white. This wasn’t good. Not good at all. What would Parker do—he was a self-proclaimed bachelor who said he never wanted kids. But more importantly, what would he think—that she’d gotten pregnant on purpose to trap him?

  She shut her eyes against the wave of nausea welling up inside her—which had nothing to do with the flu…or being pregnant.

  Oh, God. This couldn’t be happening. It just couldn’t. She sucked in a breath and let it out slowly. Okay, before she jumped to conclusions, she needed to get a pregnancy test, like right now.

  She turned and the room spun. No way could she make it to a pharmacy when she was still so weak. Stomach cramped, and feeling lightheaded, she made her way to the bedroom and texted Andi.

  I need your help.

  She paced the apartment, her stomach in knots as she waited for Andi to arrive, praying she came before Parker returned. An hour later the elevator pinged, and her heart raced. Please be Andi. The doors slid open, and when she found Andi standing there, she nearly cried with relief.

  “Good afternoon, Layla,” Gregory said, as he waved his hand for Andi to exit. “Parker tells me you haven’t been feeling well.”

  “Flu,” she said quickly. He narrowed his eyes, and she had the worst feeling that he could see right through her lie.

  “If you need anything, you just let me know.”

  “Thanks. My friend Andi just brought me some things. I’ll be okay.”

  “Very well.” The elevator shut, and Andi handed the bag over.

  “Layla, how could this have happened?”

  “I only missed one pill,” she said, tearing into the bag to get at the pregnancy test.

  Andi glanced around. “Stuck-Up-Suit has a nice place. No wonder you like being here.” The place being nice had nothing to do with her staying. She liked being here because Parker was here. “I thought you were only staying until after Christmas. It’s almost New Year’s.”

  “He asked me to stay longer.”

  “Oh, did he now?”

  “I said yes at first, but then I changed my mind and was going to leave. But I got sick and couldn’t go anywhere.” Andi stared at her, that familiar know-it-all look on her face. “It’s not what you think.”

  “What I think is that he buys you things you can’t afford yourself, takes you away with him, and has nursed you back to health, twice now.” She clicked her tongue. “For a girl who swore she’d never rely on a man, you certainly seem to be doing a lot of it with Parker. That takes a lot of trust, and he must care about you, too, Layla. I mean what guy is going to threaten to buy an entire coffee shop, and not let you out of his sight for weeks because he was worried about you.”

  “Even if he did care, Andi, a pregnancy would ruin everything. He doesn’t want a family and has plenty of reasons why.” Reasons that went way deeper than the loss of five million dollars. “He’s going to hate me, and I don’t want him to. It would destroy me.”

  “Is that because you love him?”

  “Yes,” she said, choking back the tears. “He said he never wanted kids. I don’t want to be the one who ruined his life, forcing him into fatherhood when it’s something he totally opposes, you know?”

  Andi took one of her hands. “You know you don’t have to keep the baby. There are options.”

  Layla’s other hand went to her stomach, and she leaned in to Andi as the floor felt like it was opening beneath her feet. “I could never do that,” she said. Not because she didn’t believe in women’s rights, but because she wanted to keep some small piece of Parker in her life. But how could she raise a baby alone? No way would she ask him for money. He’d for sure think she trapped him, then. And it wouldn’t be fair not to tell him about his child. But maybe she’d wait until she finished school, went to New York for work, and was standing on her own to feet.

  Wait! That wasn’t going to happen now.

  No way would his cousin give her a job after this, and she wouldn’t even be able to finish her degree this winter. She hadn’t worked in months, and Parker wouldn’t want to lend her the money—not that she would ask—under these circumstances.

  God, she was so totally screwed. No work, a baby to take care of, and a man who didn’t want a family. Talk about turning out just like her mother.

  “Okay,” Andi said quietly. “Let’s hope this is negative, then.”

  Dashing into the bathroom, Layla tore into the box. Papers went flying as she pulled out the stick. She dropped to her knees and gathered up the instructions, and read them over quickly. Okay, pee on stick, put it on a flat surface, and wait three minutes. Easy enough. She opened the sealed pouch by tearing along the perforated line and set the strip on the counter. Then she removed the test from the pouch, her hands so shaky she was sure she was going to drop it. She followed the instructions, laid a piece of tissue on the counter, and placed the stick on it. Then she grabbed her phone and set the timer.

  She walked away from the counter, pacing from the door to the sink, barely able to look at the white stick. A minute passed, and Andi knocked.

  “You okay in there?”

  “No, I’m not,” she said, her emotions on a roller-coaster ride.

  “Everything will be okay, Layla
.”

  She paced some more, sure nothing would ever be okay again.

  Her phone finally pinged, and she sucked in a breath and held it. Heart racing, she squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again to take one final look at the stick.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Parker glanced at the small kitten on the seat beside him as he exited the airport parking lot. He never should have said no to Layla when she asked if she could keep her. If she wanted the kitten, then she should damn well have the kitten. Talk about a prick move on his part. If she’d started that list of names for him, he’d want her to add douchebag to the top.

  He maneuvered through traffic, wanting to get home to Layla. He hated leaving her, even if she was feeling better, but he had to pick up the kitten, and he’d been trying to get to Kensington, Seattle’s most popular art supply store. Yeah, he’d done his research and had been on the phone with the store numerous times. If he wanted to prove to Layla that he cared about her, and wanted to make this thing between them permanent, he had to do something permanent, like turn one of the spare bedrooms into an art studio for her.

  He’d been keeping it a secret, not wanting to say anything to her until he had the room set up, but unfortunately, outside of making calls to his decorator and the store, he wasn’t able to move forward because of her flu bug. Tomorrow however, he planned to take her out for the day, while the supplies were being delivered and room set up. Even Gregory was in on his surprise.

  The studio was just a start. What he really wanted was to support her while she painted and built up an inventory. Then, he’d help her find the perfect location for her very own studio. He just hoped this was enough to show her he cared about her, their future, and she trusted him enough to know he’d never bail.

  He parked and made his way into the store to talk to the manager he’d been speaking with the last few days. The lady showed him around and helped him pick out all the things he’d need for Layla. It was approaching late afternoon by the time he finished, and he was feeling rather excited about this whole thing.

  “What do you say, girl? Do you think Layla will be happy?”

  The kitten purred and curled up into a ball beside him, and he jacked the radio as he drove home. He parked underground and walked to the elevator, unable to wipe the stupid grin off his face.

  “Mr. Braxton,” Gregory said as the doors pinged open, “who do we have here?” He petted the cat, and she purred.

  “She doesn’t have a name yet. I’m leaving that up to Layla.”

  He frowned. “Oh.”

  Parker didn’t miss the hint of worry in the man’s voice. “What?”

  “Layla went out,” he said.

  “Out?” He looked down at his feet and frowned. “She wasn’t feeling well enough to leave. Where did she go?”

  “She left with her friend, Andi.”

  Parker stood there, trying to wrap his brain around this turn of events.

  “She had a lot of bags with her. I think she was moving out.”

  What the fuck?

  The elevator stopped at the penthouse, and he climbed off. Without saying a word to Gregory, he set the kitten down and stormed through his place. When he found all of her things gone, his heart sank into his stomach. He checked his phone for a message, looked for a note, anything to explain her absence, but when his search came up empty, he dropped down onto the sofa, braced his elbows on his knees, and gripped the sides of his head.

  Why would she just leave without saying a word to him? Sure she’d been reminding him their time together was almost up, but she’d agreed to stay longer, and he actually thought she wanted to. Until now…

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  The kitten purred, and he picked her up. The poor girl had to be hungry. She purred again, and he grabbed the bag of supplies they’d sent with the kitten. He poured her food and water, then set up her litter box in the main level bathroom, the one Layla always used. The scent of jasmine bath salts filled the air as he entered, and his stomach clenched.

  His phone rang, and he grabbed it from his pocket, hoping it was Layla, but when the display showed his buddy Lucas’s number, he tossed it onto the counter and sat on the edge of the tub. He couldn’t talk to anyone right now, or be reminded of the pact. He’d been all set to pay his five million, because to him, Layla was worth the price.

  He eyed his phone, picked it up, and swiped the screen, wanting to call her, text her, figure out what the fuck was going on inside her head. But what the hell would he say? She obviously didn’t feel the same way about him as he felt about her, or she wouldn’t have just left without so much as a goodbye.

  He pushed off the tub and was just about to leave the room, when a piece of foil behind the garbage can caught his eyes. He picked it up. Had it been torn off a pouch or something? He looked it over, then turned it over in his hand and read, First Response.

  What the hell was that, some kind of medication? Shit. Maybe her flu had gotten worse and she called Andi to bring medication. Of course, that didn’t explain why she left with all her things. Strip in hand he walked to his office and shook his mouse to wake up his computer. He typed in First Response, and when a pregnancy kit filled his screen, he damn near bit off his tongue.

  No. Fucking. Way.

  He pushed back from his computer and jumped to his feet. Layla was pregnant? He paced, running his hands through his hair. How the fuck could this happen? She’d told him she was on the pill. She had no reason to lie about that…unless.

  He fell back against the bathroom wall, his mind going over everything that had happened between them since he first hit her with his car. Was it possible that she’d gotten pregnant on purpose? Wanting to trap him, like his mom had trapped his dad, something his grandma had always led him to believe?

  Could he have been so wrong about the girl who wound her way around his heart?

  Shit, they needed to talk. Grabbing his coat, he jumped on the elevator and made his way back to his car. Cold rain fell heavy as he drove to her place. He pounded on the door, and when no one answered, he went upstairs to talk to her landlord. When he was informed that Layla hadn’t returned, he drove the streets until he found her friend Jo, who hadn’t seen her, either. His next stop was Uncommon Grounds.

  When she was nowhere to be found, he stepped up to the guy working. “Hey,” he said, “do you know where Andi lives?”

  “Ah…” the guy made a face and glanced around. “We’re not allowed to give out that kind of information.” Parker removed a hundred dollar bill from his wallet and slid it across the counter. The guy took it, quickly stuffed it into his pocket, and said, “Hang on.” A minute later he came back with a slip of paper and handed it to Parker. “This didn’t come from me.”

  Parker glanced at the guy’s nametag and gave him one of his business cards. “Listen David, if you see Layla, text me. There will be another hundred in it for you.”

  He nodded and shoved the card into the pocket of his brown pants. Parker hurried back outside and glanced at the piece of paper. Maneuvering his car through dinner-hour traffic, he headed to Andi’s place. He rang the bell on her apartment a good fifty times.

  “Fuck.”

  “You looking for Andi?” some guy asked, his clothes sopping wet as he stepped into the foyer with a bag of groceries.

  “Yeah, you know where I can find her?”

  “I think she’s gone on a trip. She and her friend got into a cab, and they both had suitcases. Hope they’re going somewhere warm. Moved here last month from Texas, and this weather sucks.”

  Parker handed him a card. “If you see her, call me.”

  He stepped back outside and looked up and down the street. Where the fuck could she have gone? Rain pelted him as he walked back to his car, but he didn’t give a shit. He climbed in and scrubbed a hand over his face. Goddammit, he needed to find her. They needed to talk.

  Then again, if she was laying a trap, she’d eventually come to him right? All he had to do wa
s wait. Even if it fucking killed him.

  He pulled into traffic, and not wanting to go back to his empty apartment, he headed to the office. Maybe a few fifteen-hour days would help pass the time, and take his mind off the clusterfuck his life had become.

  For the next three days, Parker buried himself in his work, waiting for his phone to ring. The staff mostly stayed out of his way. Rumors that he was on a rampage had spread fast. He worked, went home, took care of the kitten, and went to bed, but since he couldn’t sleep or eat, he was a hot fucking mess as he stormed around the office.

  At some point in those three days the decorator had been in and turned one of his spare rooms into a studio for Layla. He took one peek, shut the door, and locked it away, like he should have done with his heart when this thing had first started with Layla. She’d said she didn’t want more. Yeah, so did he and look how that turned out.

  Layla…sweet Layla who gave him her virginity, fought with him every time he tried to buy her something or take care of her. Layla who gave her coat to the homeless and went without so others could be warm. Layla who wanted to cook for him and made his house into a home.

  Layla who was having his baby.

  Motherfucker.

  He was going to be a father. A father! He had no idea how much he wanted that with Layla until he found that little piece of foil on his bathroom floor. She never would have known that, though, never would have known how much he wanted to have a family with her. All along he’d told her he didn’t want kids and had believed his mother had trapped his father the same way.

  She’d never do that to you…

  As that last thought bounced around in his barely functioning brain, he made his way into the office, exhausted and angry.

  Why the hell hasn’t she contacted me?

  It was nearing his late-morning meeting when his phone pinged, and he grabbed it. He didn’t recognize the number, but from the text, She’s here, he knew it was David from Uncommon Grounds.