Billionaire Boss

by Jessica Marx

  Tony and I amble up to the bar at the same time. “What’s happening, hot stuff?” he greets me in his usual playful tone.

  “Same old,” I reply, disinclined to give details.

  We hug again and talk for a while. He tells me how Ryan is, and in typical Tony-style, doesn’t listen when I tell him I’ve spoken to him, too. He tells me that he hopes to go out for a visit so Ryan can take him to all the Hollywood hangouts and introduce him to some hotties. I smile and go along with his story. I don’t need to steal his thunder and let him know I’m planning on going soon, too.

  We go back out on the make shift dance floor and join our crew. Everyone is having a great time, and by the time the countdown comes on, we are all fairly drunk.

  I hold Tara’s hand as the DJ counts us into the new year. The rest of our friends join in, since we are all single, for the most part. When he reaches number one, we all cheer and shout and throw confetti. Everyone is hugging and kissing and wishing each other the best for the new year. A couple of my friends even shed some tears as Auld Lang Syne is played. As soon as the music comes back on, we start dancing again, and continue into the wee hours of the morning.

  After dancing up the night, I was flat out exhausted. Tara lets me crash on her couch. There are a few extra people in the apartment, but no one seems to care. Everyone there wakes up feeling awful, and even I’m still wiped. Someone puts on a pot of coffee and we take our time coming into the kitchen to have some. One of the roommates was nice enough to go out early this morning and get bagels for everyone. I’m not sure if they woke up early, or just never went to sleep. Either way, I’m glad they’re here.

  The television is on and we are mindlessly watching while we eat and have coffee and try to get the terrible hangover feeling to subside. Tara suddenly gets excited and points to the television with a mouthful of bagel. I turn to look and catch a quick glimpse of Ryan. One of the morning shows is covering some of the best parties from last night, and there is Ryan.

  He is just off-center in the shot. There is one guy next to him and a bunch of girls. Each one is more beautiful than the next, and each skirt just a little bit shorter, if that’s even possible. They mention Ryan’s name for a brief moment and introduce him as the up-and-coming new actor to the scene, set to costar in a sure-to-be blockbuster coming this year. I am filled with jealousy as I go through my own scenario of how the rest of his night went after that shot. I calm myself by recalling how much fun I had last night and how many guys were there that I had no interest in, but my suspicion isn’t completely gone.

  “Holy shit!” Tara says when they break for commercial. “I can’t believe Ryan was just shown at one of Hollywood’s hottest parties! And they knew who he was.”

  “I know,” I say, trying to match her excitement. “That’s crazy.”

  We talk about Ryan and how cool it was to see him on television. Every time someone else comes in, Tara retells the story. If she’s this elated from a short clip on daytime TV, I can’t imagine what it will be like when he’s on the big screen.

  I finish my bagel and coffee and say goodbye. I’m not feeling well at all, and now I’m also annoyed about Ryan’s new life partying with the rich and famous. I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it. I’m here, and he’s there, and even though I know he’s a sincere, honest person, I also know that fame can change people.

  I walk the short distance to my apartment feeling like crap from head to toe. My stomach is in knots and my head is pounding. I thought the cold air would help, but it’s only giving me the chills.

  I get home, and immediately, the nausea overtakes me. I run to the bathroom and throw up before I even take my coat off. Seeing Ryan like that must have really gotten to me… I feel slightly better, but not much. I curl up under a blanket on my couch with a small garbage pail next to me in case I get sick again, and I quickly drift off to sleep.

  When I wake up, the sun is going down. I feel a lot better, but nowhere near perfect. I’m still nauseous with the chills and sweats, but I know I’m not going to be sick again, at least for now. I dig out a can of chicken soup and heat it up. I get through half a bowl and my stomach starts turning again. I have no energy and I still feel awful. I wash my face and get into bed for the night.

  The feeling is still with me when I wake up again. I’m still nauseous and completely exhausted. I must have a bug, or something, because I’ve never been affected like this from a night out, and I didn’t even touch a sip of alcohol that night. I stay in bed most of the day but pull myself together to go to work. If I’m going to be taking off to go to California, I really can’t call in sick right now. I take a shower and try to eat some toast before leaving, but I still don’t feel well.

  I make it through the night and continue to feel sick for another couple of days before the nausea subsides and I regain some energy. Tara comes by with some chicken soup from the deli and keeps me company for a while. I speak to Ryan a couple of times who tries to cheer me up. I ask him about New Year’s Eve and he explains that he had a great time at an amazing party his costars brought him to, but nothing happened. I do believe him but I still don’t like the whole vibe out there—especially when I’m here.

  Tara and I start our new workshop. It’s another small class that’s twice a week for two weeks. It’s good to be somewhere other than home or work again. The class is fun and we go out after. I’m still feeling a little under the weather, so I skip the cocktails and just have some food. I just found out my manager is going to let me have two weeks off in February so I tell Tara I’m going to visit Ryan. I leave out the part about him buying me a ticket and that we are in love. I’ll save that for when I come back although I’m pretty sure by the way she looks at me when I tell her, that she suspects something is up. She knows me well enough not to press me, I will tell her when I’m ready, if there’s something to tell.

  I book my flight and call Ryan to give him the news. He’s so excited and starts babbling on about all the things he wants to do with me, the places he wants to take me, the people he wants me to meet. I don’t know how he plans on doing any of it while he’s working all day, but I love his enthusiasm—it’s contagious. I go along with everything he is saying and look forward to doing whatever he has planned. I’m really going there to see him so even spending some time together doing nothing would be just fine.

  The exhilaration I have about going to California pushes me through the next couple of weeks. I’m happy at work and keeping busy when I’m not there. I even start looking for some auditions that I might be able to go to, it’s been way too long. I’m still getting waves of nausea and finding myself exhausted at the end of my shift, more so than usual. I can’t completely shake whatever bug I had after the new year, and it’s starting to bother me. There’s a possibility that it’s stress-related, but I just don’t know.

  Ryan is concerned that I still don’t feel like myself. Each time we talk, he bugs me to get a checkup. I guess since he’s not here to take care of me, it’s all he can do to make himself feel useful. I make myself an appointment on my next day off to see the doctor. It’s been a while since my last appointment, anyway.

  I still see the doctor in my hometown, so I let my mom know when I’m coming. She’s not happy that I don’t feel well, but it doesn’t sound like anything serious, and she gets to spend the day with me so she’s happy to have me in town. We make plans for her to pick me up at the train the following day so we can have lunch and then go to my appointment. I don’t have to work until the next afternoon so I plan on spending the night. Before I go to bed, I get a few things together to bring with me in the morning. I want to catch an early train tomorrow and I want to be ready to leave.

  21

  I see my mother’s car when I get off the platform, “Hey, Mom,” I say as I get into her warm car.

  “Hey,” she replies, leaning over to give me a kiss. She lightly touches my forehead with the back of her hand, trying to take my temperature like she did when I
was a child.

  “Really, Mom?” I ask with a smirk.

  “Just checking,” she replies. “It’s part of my job. I guess the doctor can tell us soon enough.”

  She pulls out onto the main road and we head to the doctor’s office. Mom asks about work and my new class so I fill her in on what I’ve been doing, which is not much of anything lately. She asks if I’ve heard from Ryan, and I tell her that we talk every couple of days. I see her raise her eyebrows so I try to divert her next round of questions. I quickly tell her about seeing Ryan on television New Year’s Day. My plan works and we talk about that for the last of the car ride until we reach the office.

  The receptionist greets us like old friends. I started coming here when I left my pediatrician. I fill out the necessary forms, and when they call my name I go in, leaving my mother in the waiting room. I talk to the nurse and let her know what’s been going on. I tell her I think it’s stress and nerves, and she agrees that it could be, but of course we have to check—that’s what I came here for, anyway. She goes through the normal routine; taking my height and weight, getting urine and blood samples. The doctor comes in to talk to me and we go over the same information I did with the nurse. He listens to my lungs and feels my stomach. He tells me to get dressed and leaves the room for a few minutes.

  I’m reading a magazine when he comes back in and sits down.

  “Eve, we ran some labs on your urine. Are you aware that you’re pregnant?” he asks.

  The color drains from my face. “What? H-how?”

  “I’m assuming at your age, you know how,” he answers gently. “But you do seem surprised. Are you okay? Would you like me to get your mother?”

  “No!” I answer quickly. “I mean, I don’t want my mother in here now. I’m very surprised.”

  “Well, let me be the first to congratulate you, then,” he answers with a smile. “That seems to be the cause of your symptoms. Other than that, you’re in perfect health.”

  “Thanks,” I say absently. Holy shit. This can’t be happening. There is no way—there is a way, but it can’t be. Holy shit. What am I going to do?

  “Good luck, Eve,” the doctor says interrupting my thoughts, “I suggest you make an appointment with your gynecologist. Take as much time as you need in here.” He flashes me a considerate smile and leaves the room.

  I start to cry. I am in complete and total shock. My head is spinning and my brain is having trouble comprehending what is happening. I can’t have a baby. I don’t even know if I can tell Ryan. I do know I can’t tell my mother the news. I need to pull myself together for now and play it cool. This is not the time, and I am definitely not in the right frame of mind. I need some time to process this.

  I sit in the room for several minutes, taking deep breaths and trying to clear my head—which is proving to be impossible. I can’t focus on anything but the news I just heard. No matter how hard I try to focus on something else, the words keep playing in my head: “you’re pregnant.” I don’t want to see my mother right now, but I’m glad she’s out there waiting for me, or I would be having a full-blown panic attack. I need to act normal so she doesn’t suspect anything.

  The nurse opens the door to check on me. I calmly let her know I’m leaving in a minute. I’m an actor, dammit. I’ve been studying how to act for years. I need to use every one of those skills and get through the rest of this day, or at least until I can lock myself in a room later. I splash some water on my face and towel it off. I open the door and walk out to the waiting room silently praying that I can pull this off. I say goodbye to the receptionist and my mother stands to meet me by the door.

  “What’s wrong?” mom asks when we get into the hallway.

  “Nothing,” I lie. “I checked out fine so the doctor agreed it’s probably just stress.”

  “Are you sure?” she asks suspiciously. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “I was, but only because I was telling the doctor why I’ve been so tense and it made me upset.”

  “What could possibly have you so upset?” she asks, more concerned.

  “Nothing crazy, mostly just my career, or lack of one. I really just don’t feel like talking about it anymore.” Finally, some truth. “We can talk about it another day, if you don’t mind.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Whenever you’re ready,” she answers.

  “Do you want to stop for some lunch, or just go home?” she asks.

  “Home is fine,” I reply flatly. I wanted to have a nice day with my mother, but I’m just not up for it. I feel bad but I don’t think I can do it now.

  We continue the drive home in silence. I can see my mom is upset that I’m upset, and I can’t blame her. I’ve never been the most open about my feelings, but I don’t like leaving her in the dark, either. I just can’t tell her that I’m pregnant—at least, not now. Maybe not ever.

  “Mom, I promise, I’m fine,” I assure her when we pull into the driveway.

  “I’m sure you are. I know you’re a strong young woman, but I’m here if you want to talk,” she says with a reassuring smile.

  I lean over and hug her before we get out of the car. I’m sure talking to my mom would be helpful. She is usually understanding and level headed, but this is big. I need to think for myself before I decide to share with anyone else—even Ryan.

  We walk into the house and I tell my mother I’m going to take a nap. I go up to my room, even though there’s no chance of that happening. I just need to think.

  I lay on my old bed and stare at the ceiling. I cross my arms over my belly and tears fall down my face. I’m not really crying, I am numb. I am overwhelmed with the news. I don’t have a real job, I barely have a boyfriend, my parents are going to be horrified, and I have no idea what I will do with a child! If I tell Ryan, he is going to want to come back. His career literally just started, and this movie may very well make him a star. I can’t take that away from him. I’m supposed be going to see him in less than two weeks. How will I hide this from him?

  I’m going to have to tell Ryan when I see him. I know he will step up and do what’s right. I also know he loves me and would be thrilled at the idea of us having a child together and being a family, I just don’t think he wanted it so soon. I know I didn’t. I will have to go move to California. It will be the only way for him to keep his career and have this baby.

  My entire world is being thrown upside down. I’m not sure if I can handle having a baby and raising a child. Especially if I’m living in California and my parents will be across the country. I won’t know anyone but Ryan, and he will be busy. As much as he wants me there, maybe having a baby there too will be too much for him. This child can make us a beautiful family and lifetime of happiness, or it can ruin everything. I stay in my bed, thoughts spinning through my head. I know what I have to do, but I’m terrified.

  My phone buzzes and I see a text from Ryan asking if I went to the doctor yet. When we spoke yesterday, I mentioned that I had an appointment today. He’s been so worried about me. I text him back that the doctor said I was fine, I must have had a bug and added stress and I’ll be okay. Even if I’m going to tell Ryan the truth, I’m not going to do it like this. I will be there soon enough. If I want him to know, I will tell him then. He tells me to get better soon, that I can’t miss my trip to California. He has a surprise for me.

  My mom knocks on the door and lets me know she made coffee if I want some; she always has coffee before she makes dinner. As much as I would like to, I can’t hide in my room forever. I get up and wash my face before going downstairs. I join mom in the kitchen and make myself a cup of coffee. As I’m stirring in the milk, I wonder if I’m even supposed to drink coffee anymore. I leave the cup sitting on the counter. There is a lot I need to learn, and fast.

  I put on a smile and sit at the table. We make some conversation and I tell her it’s nice to be here, and it is. I love being on my own but I also love being in the comfort of my parents’ home too. It’s been a cold and lon
ely month at my place.

  I help my mother prepare dinner. She sneaks some random questions, trying to get a better idea of what is going on with me, but there’s nothing more I can tell her. I keep up my happy facade, even though I’m counting down until it’s late enough for me to say I’m going to bed so I can disappear into my room for the night.

  Dinner is on the table when my stepfather arrives home. I tell him everything is fine when he inquires about the doctor today, and he seems pleased with my answer. He’s not as intuitive as my mother, and he didn’t see me crying. I’m sure she will tell him her concerns as soon as I’m gone. Maybe if I play my part well enough, she’ll think I feel better. I doubt it, though.

  I don’t eat very much at dinner, and I can tell my mother is watching my plate. The nausea has returned, and I am very on edge, so I don’t have much of an appetite.

  I help clear the table and do the dishes before excusing myself to my room. My mother looks at me with concern, but doesn’t argue. I wish I hadn't planned to sleep here ahead of time so I could go back to my apartment and be alone, but I’m not going to try and leave now. There would be too much explaining involved. I kiss my parents goodnight, walk up to my room, and shut the door behind me.

  I want to scream. I’m on the verge of one of those dramatic, full-body cries that happens once in a blue moon, but I can’t have that here. I feel trapped and alone, but I don’t want to be around anyone at the same time. I lament quietly while tears streak down my cheeks. What the fuck? This is so surreal. I’m going to have a baby—Ryan’s baby. My stepbrothers baby… I know him well enough to know his reaction will be mature and sincere—I think I do, anyway. I’m so confused by everything right now.