Her Perfect Affair

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Her Perfect Affair Page 24

by Priscilla Oliveras


  Rosa barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes as she snagged one of the thick, cloth-like paper towels from the woven basket in between the two sinks. She noted a second basket beside it with hand lotion, breath mints, and individually wrapped pieces of gum. While she desperately wanted to, no way was she rinsing her mouth out in front of Cecile. Who knew what the woman would make of that. Instead, Rosa grabbed two pieces of spearmint gum and faced her unwelcome nemesis.

  “Yes, really,” Rosa said. “Whether he wants to be with me or you or someone else, if you care for Jeremy as much as I do, it won’t matter. As long as he’s happy. That’s what’s important to me. I hope the same is true for you.”

  The black and white checkered material of Cecile’s off-the-shoulder cocktail dress rose and fell across her chest as she took a deep breath. She eyed Rosa skeptically, her red lips pursed in a pout many men had no doubt found enticing. “You’re being too nice. What’s the catch?”

  “No catch.” Rosa tossed the paper towel in the trash hole in between the sinks. “I’m not here to fight, or gossip, or create a scene. I’m here for Jeremy, because he invited me and I think it’s important that he support his family and Sherman’s firm. You’re a part of that. I get it. We can be enemies, or we can be friends. I know which I’d like, but again, that’s not entirely up to me either.”

  Cecile shook her head, a puzzled frown marring the porcelain skin on her brow. “I can’t tell whether you’re playing a good game, or if you’re for real.”

  “Guess you’re going to have to trust me.”

  Cecile let out an unladylike huff, and Rosa couldn’t resist a tiny smile.

  “Yeah, well, in this crowd, that’s not always easy.” The blonde turned to face the mirror. She ran the tip of a pinky along the edge of her lower lip, smoothing her lipstick. “You’re right about one thing—Jeremy’s a great guy.”

  Picking up her black clutch purse, Cecile eyed Rosa speculatively. “Be good to him, you hear? I’ll see you around.”

  With a flounce of her full skirt, the socialite spun toward the exit.

  “Cecile?” Rosa called, at the same time a voice inside her shouted for her to leave well enough alone.

  The statuesque blonde paused, her hand on the twisted gold-plated door handle.

  “I’m glad we cleared the air,” Rosa said in her best no-nonsense librarian tone.

  “Sure.” With a “whatever” shrug of a slender shoulder, Cecile pulled the door open. “Oh, hi, Laura!”

  At the sight of Jeremy’s mom standing in the doorway, Rosa sagged against the bathroom counter. The tile edge dug into her hip, but she barely noticed.

  Dios mío, had Laura heard any of the conversation between Rosa and Cecile?

  “Good evening, Cecile. I trust you are enjoying yourself?” Laura asked.

  “Of course,” the blonde answered, all pep and positivity. “Just freshening up a bit.”

  Cecile slid around Laura and disappeared, the tap-tap-tap of her heels echoing down the hall.

  Rosa grabbed another cloth paper towel to dab at the beads of sweat dotting her upper lip. Standing up to Cecile had drained her of the little remaining oomph she’d had left after getting sick. It was time for her to head home.

  “Are you doing okay?” Concern laced Laura’s question. She hurried over, the taffeta material of her ankle-length skirt billowing around her legs. Earlier, Rosa had admired Laura’s simple yet elegant navy dress with its long skirt, high waist accented by a knotted bow, and cap-sleeved top that skimmed the edges of her shoulders and hugged her trim torso.

  Reaching Rosa’s side, Jeremy’s mom wet a towel under the faucet and pressed it to Rosa’s forehead. “Jeremy got waylaid by one of Sherman’s junior partners, so he asked me to come check on you.”

  Eyes closed, Rosa gratefully accepted Laura’s ministrations, the damp cloth cooling her heated face.

  “I don’t want to be a bother,” she murmured.

  “Nonsense.” Laura’s hand stilled on Rosa’s cheek. “You’re brave for even coming tonight. Though I have a feeling you did so more for my son’s sake.”

  “Family is important to me.”

  “And soon, you and Jeremy will have a family of your own.”

  Rosa drew back, praying Laura hadn’t come in here planning either to rally behind Jeremy’s proposal or to argue against it. “Marriage isn’t—I’m not sure—”

  “That’s okay,” Laura said, stalling Rosa’s objection. “Whether it’s a traditional family or not is up to you, sweetie. It doesn’t matter to me. And like you, I only want what’s best for my son. I’m sure you’ll be the same with your child.”

  Heat climbed up Rosa’s cheeks. Laura had heard her conversation with Cecile. Or at least part of it.

  Ducking her head, Rosa reached for one of the mints from the basket, unwrapping it and popping it into her mouth.

  “I won’t lie to you.” Laura slid her hands into the hidden pockets on her skirt. In Rosa’s estimation, yet another bonus for the outfit, though the price tag probably wasn’t. “For a long time, I hoped Jeremy would move back home, reconcile with Cecile, and settle down here in Chicago.”

  Rosa’s heart sputtered, then dive-bombed to her belly.

  Here it came, Jeremy’s mom letting her know she wasn’t good enough for the oldest Taylor son.

  She sucked on the hard candy, the mint soothing her nausea, if not her rattled nerves. Her fist closed around the candy wrapper, the plastic crinkling in her grip.

  “But, my son smiles with his eyes when he looks at you.” A soft smile of her own accompanied Laura’s words. “There’s a calmness about him when I watch him with you. And I’ve no doubt he’s here tonight because of your doing. For that, I am exceedingly grateful.”

  “He would have come anyway,” Rosa responded, her mind reeling at Laura’s admission. “He wants to be a good son.”

  A wistfulness washed over Laura’s face, clouding her grey eyes. “I know he does. But sometimes, what you think is a good thing might not be the right thing.”

  Ave Maria purísima, wasn’t that the truth.

  Laura adjusted the ornate silver cuff bracelet on her left wrist, the gesture almost nervous. The worry stamping her features kept Rosa quiet.

  “I don’t know how much my son has shared with you about my background.” The hesitance in Laura’s voice, so unlike the woman the papers often described as possessing a commanding presence, had Rosa holding her breath in uneasy anticipation.

  “It’s no secret that I was a young, unwed, pregnant coed. I understand the shock, fear, uncertainty, and even the joy, you might be feeling.”

  Laura covered Rosa’s closed fist on top of the counter. The empathy evident in the older woman’s grey eyes, the earnestness in her expression, had Rosa’s own eyes pricking with tears.

  “Yes, I want what’s best for my son, and my soon-to-be grandchild. But also for you. I’ve already said this to Jeremy, only I’m not sure he’s inclined to listen right now. Maybe you will.” Laura’s grip squeezed over Rosa’s fist. “This is not a time for rash decisions that will affect the rest of your life. Don’t let anyone push you or rush you into something you’re not ready for. Not now. Not ever. Okay?”

  Rosa nodded dumbly, her mind reeling from the unexpected counseling and advice session with Jeremy’s mom. With so many others urging her to jump into marriage, hearing the opposite from Laura, in such a compassionate way, made Rosa’s heart swell with gratitude.

  Chalk it up to fatigue or the rush of relief, whatever it was, Rosa’s body finally decided it had had enough. Her legs wobbled, threatening to give out, and she sagged against the counter’s edge.

  “Easy.” Laura grabbed on to Rosa’s upper arm to help steady her. “I think it might be time for you to go home so you can lie down and rest. Will you be okay on your own while I go find Jeremy?”

  Leaning her forearms on the counter for support, Rosa craned her neck to meet Laura’s gaze in the mirror. “Yes, would you
mind seeing if he’s ready to leave, please?”

  “I’ll be right back,” Laura promised, her hand gently stroking the back of Rosa’s head before she turned to go.

  As soon as the door closed behind Jeremy’s mom, Rosa sank down to her haunches and burst into tears.

  Dios mío, her stomach muscles ached. Her heart was heavy with indecision. Her head pounded with what-ifs and why-nots.

  The conversation with Jeremy’s mom should have been reassuring.

  Instead, it confirmed Rosa’s misgivings about jumping into marriage with him.

  Laura said he hadn’t wanted to listen to her advice about not rushing. He wasn’t “inclined” was how his mom put it.

  Rosa knew why.

  That damn drive to prove he wasn’t like his birth father. To make Sherman proud but still follow his own path. The same hardheadedness that had taken Jeremy away from Chicago when he wasn’t sure how to live up to his own expectations when it came to his family.

  What would he do if he felt he’d let her or their child down? If he thought he hadn’t lived up to whatever expectations he put for himself when it came to being a father or a husband?

  At some point, he was bound to disappoint them. No one was perfect. It was crazy to think that would never happen.

  Could she depend on him to stick around when something went wrong? Especially if he was only with her because he felt responsible.

  She knew the heavy weight of taking on a role out of a sense of responsibility and duty. At times, it chafed. It stifled.

  That’s not what she wanted for Jeremy.

  No matter what he said, she refused to go along with a decision he’d eventually come to regret. If she had to push him away to make him see she was right, she’d do so. It would hurt. But she’d do it. For him. For her. Most importantly, for their baby.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Good morning!”

  Jeremy smiled brightly when he turned from adjusting the heat on the stove burner to find Rosa shuffling into the kitchen Friday morning.

  The stiff smile she greeted him with didn’t inspire much confidence that today would start better than the night before had ended.

  His spirits dipped a notch.

  Wrapped in her favorite orange fleece bathrobe, its long sleeves and skirt covering her from her fingertips to her pink-polished toes, with her black hair disheveled, she looked adorably bed rumpled.

  It was a true act of willpower to rein in the urge to scoop her in his arms, take the stairs by twos, and not stop ’til they reached her room.

  Once there, he’d untie her thick robe and slide it off her shoulders. Taste her sweet lips and get high on her delectable vanilla scent. Slowly peel off her Reading is Sexy pajama shirt and remind her how sexy they could be together.

  Unfortunately, while his mind carried the two of them upstairs to start the day how he’d like every morning to begin, Rosa tugged out a chair at the kitchen table and sank into it. Her heavy sigh rivaled a moody teen’s, cooling Jeremy’s back-to-bed thoughts.

  “How’s your stomach feeling?” he ventured to ask.

  “Ehhhhh,” she muttered.

  Okay then. Apparently not having coffee to help her wake up was going to be a pregnancy-long problem.

  Rather than poke the ornery bear that she was this morning, Jeremy busied himself with pouring hot water from the kettle into a mug he’d already fixed with a mint tea bag and fresh ginger shavings.

  Rosa wasn’t normally a morning person anyway, but after the catastrophic end to their evening last night, he definitely hadn’t expected Peppy Patty to come strolling down the stairs.

  The moment he’d stepped into the ladies’ room at the restaurant and caught sight of her tear-stained face, he’d been bombarded by regrets for bringing her to the party. It was an idiotic move on his part, especially given Dr. Jiménez’s demand that Rosa get as much rest as possible.

  He’d apologized repeatedly the entire time he’d led her down the blessedly darkened hallway, through the restaurant’s kitchen, and out the back door, where the valet had brought Jeremy’s Beemer for them. Thanks to the nice-sized tip he’d offered the kid.

  Rosa had barely spoken the entire drive back to Oakton. Only one-word answers. If that.

  Eyes closed. Head leaning against the passenger-door window. She’d made it clear she wasn’t in the mood to chat.

  Once home, her horrified glance up the stairs had led him to swing her up in his arms. That she’d actually let him carry her up to her room was evidence of how poorly she’d felt.

  Of course, as soon as he’d put her down, she’d shooed him away, her face pinched with fatigue. He’d tried chalking it up to her desire for privacy. Maybe her embarrassment over getting sick and having to sneak out the restaurant’s back door.

  But her refusal to make eye contact, the arm’s distance she kept—hell, she’d even sidestepped a hug—had set alarm bells clanging in his head.

  Something more than feeling sick was wrong with her. He had no idea what the hell it might be.

  Last night he’d come thiiiis close to calling his mom, asking if Rosa had mentioned anything when his mom had checked up on her in the bathroom. Only it had been late and it had made no sense to worry his mom any more than she already was.

  Instead, he’d sprawled fully dressed on Yazmine’s old bed, listening as Rosa went to wash up, then returned to her room. The house had grown quiet and still he’d lain awake. Wanting to go to her, make sure she was okay. Certain she wouldn’t want him hovering.

  Eventually he’d washed up, too, then climbed under the sheets, worried thoughts keeping him awake until early morning.

  Now, he watched as Rosa pressed the cup of medicinal tea to her lips and breathed deeply. Usually the minty aroma would do the trick. This morning, he hoped the concoction not only calmed her stomach, but also whatever else was bothering her.

  Once she’d taken a couple sips, he grabbed the bottle of prenatal vitamins and a small plastic bowl filled with diced papaya from the counter. He joined her at the table, sliding the napkin and fork he had set out earlier closer to her.

  “Gracias,” she mumbled.

  “De nada.”

  His Spanish skills got her lips to tug slightly in the right direction so he left well enough alone until she’d eaten several bites of fruit.

  “Do you want to talk about last night?” he asked.

  “Not really.” Rosa wiped her mouth with the napkin, then took another sip of her tea.

  “I’m sorry I had to send my mom to check on you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  He did though. Just like her dull responses and listless attitude worried him. Sure, she wasn’t a morning person—he’d learned that real quick once he’d moved in. But this was more than simply not liking mornings.

  He also knew Rosa didn’t like to be pushed. Best for him to say his piece, then let it be. She’d either work through her issue privately or work up the nerve to spit out whatever was bugging her. On her own time frame.

  “When you sent me back to the party, I headed for the bartender to get you a glass of 7 Up or ginger ale. It’s supposedly good for upset stomachs. At least, that’s what my mom always says. And, I figured they wouldn’t have mint ginger tea anyway so why bother asking.”

  He was babbling, but Rosa’s Mona Lisa smile had peeked out for a second behind her morning frown so he didn’t care.

  “I got halfway across the room when one of Dad’s junior partners stopped me to ask about identity theft and malware programs. He’s dealing with a pretty serious problem right now. Some new guy I hadn’t met before happened to be standing nearby. He overheard and chimed in to say he’s been having similar issues in the last week.”

  “Que horrible,” Rosa mumbled into her teacup.

  “Yeah, it is horrible. Not to mention, it’s kind of a strange coincidence.” Jeremy tapped his fingers on the wood table, mentally reviewing an idea that had come up when he’d been unable to
sleep last night. “I plan to do a little digging into something when I get to the office today. Before our update meeting on the Japan project. If I find anything, I’ll pass it along to Mark Henderson.”

  “Who?”

  “The IT guy at Taylor & Millward. I’m wondering if anyone else at the firm has mentioned similar problems recently.”

  Rosa leaned forward, dangling her fork over the bowl of papaya as she decided which one to spear. Her front teeth set to nibbling on her lower lip, like the decision required rocket science, and Jeremy nearly reached out to rub her plump lips with his thumb.

  “Do you know this Henderson guy?” she asked.

  She stabbed a large piece of fruit with her fork, then sat back in her chair. Her eyes no longer quite as sleep groggy, she gazed back at him in question.

  “Uh.” He had a hard time computing what she’d asked, his attention still caught on her lips, now decadently sucking on the sweet papaya.

  All he could think about was how delectable the juice would taste on her mouth if he closed the distance between them and kissed her. Or if he dribbled a little on her neck, then slowly licked it off.

  “Jeremy?”

  “Hmm?”

  Rosa’s morning frown deepened. “Henderson? Do you know him well?”

  “Uh, yeah.” Jeremy cleared his throat. Man, he had to stop his mind from meandering into the gutter before he got himself in more trouble here. He shifted in his seat, adjusting his jeans, and continued. “Mark, um, Mark Henderson’s been with the firm for ages. I think he almost retired a couple years ago, but changed his mind. I wasn’t here, didn’t really get the full story.... Anyway, I’m not sure why he stayed.”

  He shrugged, mentally kicking himself for bringing up the fact that he’d left and had avoided anything to do with the law firm for a long time. No need to remind Rosa about that.

  Instead, he got up and crossed to the fridge. “Want me to fry you an egg?”

  She shook her head. “No thanks. You think you might have figured out something about the identity theft?”

 

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