Boss Daddy: A Secret Baby Romance

by Black, Natasha L.

  I took a quick walk around the floor and saw that I was, at least temporarily, unneeded. Seeing my chance, I made my way to the back and slipped into the empty office. Taking a deep breath and shaking my head, I pulled open my phone. There were no messages from Hannah, but I figured she probably didn’t want to bother me. Considering I had a minute, I went ahead and called her.

  “Hello?” she answered. Her voice had a downtrodden tone to it, and I worried that something had happened.

  “Hey,” I said. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said. “Just had a sick day. A couple of them, actually.”

  “You’re not pregnant, are you?” I joked. I expected a big laugh from the other end. None came.

  And then the silence stretched out for way too long.

  Way, way too long.

  Before I could say anything else, the door burst open and Matt’s frantic face was there.

  “Jordan,” he called out.

  “What?”

  “There’s a fight. You need to come take care of it!” he exclaimed.

  “I hired bouncers for that,” I said. “Where are they?”

  “Also handling the fight,” Matt said. “Come on, you have to get out there. I have stuff burning in the kitchen!”

  “Fine, I’m coming,” I said, then pulled the phone back to my ear. “Hey, sorry, Matt’s going nuts because of a fight. I’ll have to call you back.”

  “Okay,” she said.

  I didn’t wait for her to say goodbye or for the words to come out of my mouth. I just hit the end button and ran toward the front door, where Matt was pointing. A thousand thoughts were going on inside my head, but I had to push them away as I neared the group of frat boys who had been served just to the point of too much. The bouncers were struggling with one of them, and another was on the ground, nursing a bloody nose. Two more were outside screaming and being handled by the other bouncer.

  “They just came in fighting,” the waitress said. I didn’t recognize her at first but then placed her as one of the girls who’d come over from a neighboring bar on a temporary basis. Her nametag read “Blythe,” though I had no memory of hiring a girl with that name, so it must be something she went by when working with customers at the bar. She seemed like she had a few years of annoying kids hitting on her under her belt already.

  “You didn’t serve them?” I asked.

  “No, they were already like this and bust through the doors,” she said. “Security has been fighting them the entire time.”

  “Alright,” I said, rolling up my sleeves. “Go see your other tables.”

  Blythe ran off, and I jumped into the fray, holding the flailing one down long enough that the security guard could get a few moments to breathe. Tossing his hat away, he jumped back in and helped me get the kid to his feet and forcibly exit him through the door. The bloody nose one stood up but had his hands in the air. I was about to toss him, too, when Blythe showed back up behind him.

  “Don’t,” she said. “This is my brother. They came in and just hit him out of nowhere.”

  “Do you know them?” I asked.

  “I know one of them,” he said through a tissue Blythe had brought him for his nose. “He has a problem with me for dating his ex. He’s a douche.”

  “Well, he’s a douche who is banned from this bar. You okay?”

  “I’ll be fine,” he said. “He got me by surprise, otherwise…”

  “He’s a boxer,” Blythe said.

  “Ah. Well,” I said. “Maybe I’ll hire you for extra security next time so you can see them coming.”

  Blythe’s brother laughed mirthlessly. I turned back to the door and went outside where two guards were sumo-pushing two frat kids away from the door. I stepped up and was immediately pushed by one of them. He didn’t get a chance to get his feet settled before I decked him back. He went down like a felled tree, and his buddy stood in shock.

  “You hit him!” he screamed.

  “You’re next if you don’t get the fuck out of here,” I snarled.

  “Yo, your boy hit him first, I saw it,” one of the security guys said.

  “Me too,” the other agreed.

  “Me three,” some hopeful waiting in line by the door chimed in.

  “Get out,” I said. “Take your buddy and any of your friends and never come back here again.”

  “Man, fuck you,” the snot-nosed brat said, but only as he was walking away. I noticed a girl join him in the classic outfit of a blouse that was more akin to a bathing suit top and leggings that she might have had to paint on. Another guy joined them, and they walked off toward the cars, getting into two of them and driving away.

  “Let that guy in,” I said as I turned and pointed at the extra witness in line. “Good job, fellas.”

  “Yes, sir,” one of the guards said as he opened the door and I walked through. The other witness came in behind me and went right to the bar, as if attracted by a magnet.

  With that behind me, I looked down to see my knuckle was all scratched up from decking the kid, and I went to the back to wash it off. As I stood in the bathroom with the door open, Matt came by and ducked his head in.

  “All good?” he asked.

  Suddenly, the conversation I had with Hannah jumped back to the forefront of my mind, and I tried to shake it off.

  “Yeah, fine. Just drunk kids who had a bone to pick.”

  “Gone?”

  “Like the wind,” I said. “The waitress Blythe, she either knows them or knows how to find out their names. Remind me to get that so I can post their info in case they try to get back.”

  “Will do,” Matt said. Then he stopped and looked at my reflection in the mirror as I shook my hands dry. “You alright?”

  “Yeah,” I lied. “Going to go finish my break now, though. I’ll come let you know when I’m headed back out to the floor.”

  Matt nodded and tapped the doorframe with his hand before heading back into the kitchen. I dried my hands on a paper towel and tossed it before heading back to the office. Once inside, I took a seat at the fancy office chair I bought for the desk. I pulled out my phone and hesitated before I dialed Hannah.

  She had taken way too long on that pause. Maybe she was having a scare? Maybe she had a medical thing and couldn’t have kids and my saying that was like a cruel joke? I tried to come up with every possible scenario except the one that seemed the most likely.

  I dialed the number and waited, but the line never answered. I called again, and suddenly my phone died and I realized I had forgotten my charger. It was still plugged in behind the lamp at the hotel room. I had been on the phone all damn day with my brothers, vendors, and eventually security people that I had run the battery all the way down. Just making sure everything arrived on time was exhausting and required so much more coordination than I figured it would beforehand. Especially with Matt being more preoccupied with making the right food and making sure the big-picture things were being taken care of.

  Sitting my phone down on the desk, I propped my elbows and dropped my head into my hands. What was I supposed to do? First off, I was extremely frustrated with myself for forgetting the charger. Also, I was upset that I had left Hannah so quickly without getting an explanation. I should have made Matt go deal with it, burning food be damned. But instead, I left and now I had this question ringing through my head.

  Was I about to be a father?

  It was a real possibility, and until I heard back from Hannah, I had to operate under the idea that it might be true. At thirty-six, I almost thought that chance had passed me by years ago. Being a father was what my brothers did, not me. I was the military brat who might get itchy feet and run away again, not one who suddenly settled down and became a dad.

  And yet…

  There was an appeal. There was an appeal to being a father, and to being that close to Hannah. I was falling for her, deeper every single day, and having a kid, while not the greatest timing, wasn’t something I opposed. If it wa
s with her, then it would be worth it. She made everything seem worth it.

  I slammed my hands on the desk. How could I be so stupid as to leave the charger at the hotel? Now I was stuck in the bar, with hours left on the clock, with no ability to communicate to the outside. To communicate with Hannah.

  What if she was calling me back? Leaving me because I reacted that way to the news? I had to figure this all out. And I had to figure it out at the expense of anything going on around me. My brothers would just have to understand.

  32

  Hannah

  I could hear my phone ringing in the other room, but there was no getting out of the bathroom. The floor and I were having a serious love-hate relationship as of late. I loved that it was the perfect amount of space for me to throw down a pillow and blanket when I had to camp out for a couple of hours at a time. And that was where the hate came in. Maybe I would get accustomed to these bouts of sickness, but I was really not having a good time with them at that point.

  My stomach had given me a dire warning that there would be no moving around for a while when the phone started ringing. I had a feeling it was Jordan calling me back, and I wanted to talk to him, but there was no way I was going to be able to get to the other room and answer.

  Finally, the sick feeling dissipated, and I was able to climb shakily to my feet. Like I always did, I paused for a couple of seconds to feel out how I was doing. When I confirmed it was over, I rinsed my mouth, brushed my teeth, and headed into the bedroom for my phone.

  Checking the missed calls confirmed it was Jordan who had called, and I called him back. It didn’t even ring. I hung up and tried again, thinking there was a chance he was calling me at the same time, and we were managing to block each other. It went straight to voicemail again, telling me the phone was off.

  I sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the phone for a few long seconds. I didn’t know what to make of him turning his phone off after I missed one call from him. Was he angry at me?

  He was obviously joking when he asked if I was pregnant. Which made two people who’d made that joke within the last couple of days and had it turn around and bite them in the ass.

  And then there was that pause. I knew he caught it. He noticed my hesitation. Which probably meant he had put it all together and knew I was pregnant. He said he would call me back, so he wanted to talk about it. And he did call me back. But then he turned his phone off immediately. That had to mean something.

  I hated the way my thoughts were starting to spiral, so I swallowed them down and got dressed. Even though the rest of Samantha’s recommendations hadn’t done any good for me, I tried one more of them by chewing on some candied ginger as I got into my pajamas and curled up in bed.

  It was earlier than I usually went to bed on my nights off. Staying up late helped to make it less of a shock to my system when I had to work until the wee hours. But Sam had already warned me the next few weeks would bring on a whole new kind of tired, so I figured I might as well start stockpiling sleep now.

  Besides, if I was asleep, I wouldn’t have to worry about Jordan and what he was thinking. At least for a little while.

  The next day, I headed back to the library to keep working on the mural. I wanted to get it finished sooner rather than later, and now that I was making progress on it, I could really see it coming together. That motivated me even more and highlighted areas where I could add design elements I hadn’t even thought of before.

  I stepped back from the wall and admired the new section I’d just finished. Putting all my focus and energy into it was making my creativity flow, and I was making great progress. It was exactly what I needed. I’d been trying to keep my mind preoccupied from everything. I still hadn’t heard from Jordan by the time I left that morning, and I decided to leave my phone at home. Not having it with me would allow me to just focus on the painting rather than wondering when my phone was going to ring or I would get a text.

  By early in the afternoon, I felt finished with my work for the day, and I needed some rest, so I headed home. I took a quick shower and went to the kitchen for a snack, then got my phone from where it was plugged in on the bedside table. Scrolling through the notifications on the screen, I noticed I’d missed several calls from Jordan.

  The subsequent text messages he sent were increasingly worried. I immediately called him back.

  “Hannah!” he said, sounding like he was in a semi-panic. “I’ve been trying to reach you all day.”

  “I know,” I said. “I just noticed that. I’m sorry.”

  “Why were you ignoring my calls and messages?”

  “I wasn’t,” I said. “I went to the library to work on the mural and left my phone at home so I wouldn’t think about it. But speaking of ignoring people, what happened last night? You said you would call me back and you did, but I was sick, so I couldn’t answer it. I called you back just a couple of minutes later, but you had turned your phone off.”

  “No,” he said. “I hadn’t turned my phone off. I forgot to put it on the charger and it died. I didn’t have another charger at the bar with me. I didn’t mean to leave you hanging. I really want to talk to you.”

  “I really want to talk to you, too,” I said.

  “Good. So, I’ll see you soon.”

  “What do you mean? I thought you had to be in Portland.”

  “I do,” he said. “But I need to be with you, too. After the fourth call you didn’t answer, I decided to drive home. I’m almost there. I can come right to you so we can talk if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all,” I said. “I’ll be waiting.”

  As soon as I got off the phone, I felt nervous fluttering in my stomach. I paused for a couple of seconds to determine if it really was just nerves, or if it was another bout of sickness. The concept of morning sickness was definitely a misnomer. I was getting sudden waves of nausea at all times during the day. Fortunately, I’d been feeling fairly well that day, and I soon came to the conclusion I was just nervous and not about to get sick again.

  I changed my clothes out of the sweatsuit I put on when I got back from the mural and went to the kitchen to make a pot of tea. About fifteen minutes after I got off the phone with Jordan, I heard a knock on the door.

  Even though I was expecting Jordan, there was still a spike of fear. I went to the door and peered out of the peephole to make sure it wasn’t Ethan on the other side. Seeing Jordan’s face both made me both relax and increased my nervousness. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and let him in.

  I wasn’t sure what to expect when he stepped inside. As soon as I closed the door behind me, he turned around and pulled me into him.

  “I’m so sorry about last night,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was ignoring you or that I was upset at you. My phone died when I was at the bar, then when I got back to the hotel, I plugged it in, but I was so exhausted from the opening that I passed out before it had enough juice to call you.”

  “It’s alright,” I said. “I understand. I know the opening has been really hard on you, and from what I heard on the phone last night, it sounded like it was pretty rowdy.”

  “It was definitely that,” he said.

  Jordan suddenly grabbed me by my upper arms and guided me back from him so he could look into my eyes. I could see emotion in them, but I didn’t know exactly what that emotion was. He searched my face for only a second before asking the question I knew had been burning in him since that pause the night before.

  “Are you pregnant?”

  I nodded. “Yes.”

  I didn’t know how he would react, but it didn’t take long for me to find out. He pulled me into his arms again, cradling me close. I was surprised at first, then wrapped my arms around him and held him equally as tight.

  “Did you think I was going to be angry?” he asked.

  I drew in a breath and nodded, pulling back to look at him. “I worried that you might be. I didn’t know how you would react. It’s
so soon. We’ve never talked about…”

  “I’m okay with it,” he said. “Really, I am.”

  I opened my mouth to respond, then closed it so I could think over my words carefully.

  “You’re okay with it?”

  He shook his head. “That’s probably not the best way to put it. I… I’m not mad, Hannah. I’m not upset.” He rested his hand on my stomach. “I’m happy.”

  Relief washed over me, and I smiled, but a second later, that smile faded.

  “We have to be really careful who we tell. It’s not that I want to keep it a secret, I just don’t want Ethan to somehow find out. With the way he was talking, I have no idea what kind of rage it might send him into,” I said.

  Jordan shook his head. “You don’t need to be afraid. I will protect you and our baby from Ethan. No matter what. Neither of you will get hurt. Not on my watch.”

  For the first time in a while, I felt all the fear and worry disappear. With Jordan, I knew I was safe.

  We spent the rest of the day cuddled up together, talking and enjoying being near each other again. But he couldn’t stay. Far too soon, he had to get back on the road to Portland so he could be at the bar that night.

  I didn’t want to let him go, especially not now. But I understood. He couldn’t just drop his responsibilities at the bar. They needed him there. I walked him to the door, and we stood in a soft, slow kiss for a long time, stretching every second until the very last possible one before he had to leave.

  When the door closed behind him and I knew he was on his way, a heavy, deep sense of loneliness settled over me. I’d missed him while he was away before, but now it was different. I felt absolutely lonely, and it made me wonder how I was going to get through this pregnancy with him gone like this.

  33

  Jordan

  Driving back to Portland was absolute torture. I kept wanting to pick up the phone and call someone, but there was no one to call. I could call Hannah, but it felt like we needed to let the dust settle between us a little. Things were changing in a big way, and we both needed the time to understand what it meant for us individually as well as together. I knew I needed the chance to do that for myself. But that didn’t mean I didn’t instinctively want to go to my brothers or friends for advice and to share in the excitement.