by Tia Siren
Erica's eyes flicked over towards Michael, who had seated himself at the far end of the bar and was currently being served by one of our coworkers, Jessica. “You guys had a good talk about it last night, though?” Erica asked.
I blushed and ducked my head. “We didn't do much in the way of talking,” I admitted. “At least we agreed that we're both cool with continuing to hook up, though. I'm not sure how much longer that will last, because I know he sleeps with the hottest chicks and I'm sure my pregnant body is not going to be interesting to him, but we'll see.”
Erica looked unimpressed. “If the two of you don't sit down and have a long talk soon, I swear I'm going to have to beat some sense into both of you,” she said.
I laughed, even though I knew she wasn't joking. “I know,” I told her. “We need to talk. But I'm just not sure what I want to say. I don't think he is, either.”
“Well, you'd better figure it out soon, because now that you're pregnant, you're on a timer,” Erica reminded me.
I nodded at her, but before I could say anything else, someone behind me called my name.
I frowned, turning around, for some reason expecting it to be Michael behind me, even though it hadn't sounded like his voice, and even though I knew he was sitting at the far end of the bar. But instead of Michael, it was the creepy guy from the other night.
I didn't know what his problem was, and I didn't know why security kept letting him in. But as I looked toward security, I remembered we had different guys in there for the weekend shifts, when things were busier. Dan and Jimmy, the guys who had been in there on Wednesday night, were both broad-shouldered and competent, but the guys that we had in there on Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, our busiest nights, were even more intimidating. Of course, they wouldn't recognize this guy, so he was still getting let in.
“I never got your number the other night,” the sleaze-bag said to me.
“Like I told you the other night, I have a fiancé,” I snapped, hands clenching into fists. Normally, this kind of attention didn't make me so angry, but I had had it up to here with this dude. I had enough on my plate without having to worry about asshole guys who thought they could get into my pants.
“Let me buy you a drink,” the guy suggested. “Like I told you the other night, I'm not opposed to having a threesome with you and your fiancé.”
“I'm not interested,” I gritted out.
“Is this guy bothering you?” Michael asked smoothly, coming up to the bar next to him. Without waiting for a response, he pushed the other guy. “Look, buddy, I don't know what your problem is, but I think it's pretty clear that she's not interested in you. So I suggest you find someone else.”
“Look, buddy, I don't see where any of this is any of your business,” the creep retorted, pushing Michael right back.
I gestured frantically for security, sensing where this was headed, but the guys at the door didn't see me in time.
Michael neatly decked the guy, who staggered back, grabbing his mouth. His hand came away with blood on it, and that only seemed to make him even more enraged. He lunged at Michael, throwing punches of his own. Michael managed to duck a couple of them, but it wasn't long before one caught him on the cheekbone.
He roared with animalistic fury and lunged at the other guy, toppling him to the floor. By this point, there was a crowd gathering around the two of them, some of them cheering and others just watching. Fights broke out at The Shift somewhat regularly, given the type of people we had in there, and the bouncers knew how to break them up quickly. But that didn't mean people didn't enjoy them while they lasted.
I didn't want to feel this sense of relief at the fact that Michael was brawling with this dude. I didn't want to feel proud of him for holding his own in the fight. I didn't want to feel turned on by the fact that Michael wanted to protect me. I was angry. But as with my feelings for Michael in general, and for the baby, that anger seemed to be tied up in a bunch of other feelings, some of which I couldn't even sort out.
A couple of the bouncers moved in, parting the crowd and grabbing the two combatants. I could see them talking sharply with the two men, but I couldn't hear what they were saying over the noise of the last cheers and jeers. Whatever was said, the two guys were escorted to the door, and I had a feeling they were being told they weren't allowed back inside.
I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I already missed Michael's presence there at the end of the bar. But I was also hopping mad at him for butting into my personal affairs like that.
I glanced back at Erica, who was looking on with tight-lipped fury. “Remember when I said that you being mopey around here was bad for business?” she said. “I think we've found something that's even worse.” I swallowed hard, wondering if she was going to fire me. But instead, she just pushed me toward the door. “Go on, go talk to him,” she urged.
I scowled. “I don't want to talk to him after that,” I told her. My anger towards Michael spiked as I realized that he could have just cost me my job. And put a strain on one of my best friendships. Not that Erica was the kind of person to hold a grudge, but still.
It was all so confusing.
“Well, then you'd better go tell him you don't want to talk to him after that because I don't want him coming around the bar and making a scene in another couple nights when he hasn't heard from you!” Erica snapped. It was the first time I'd ever seen her this angry, and that, in turn, made me even more angry with Michael for causing the scene.
I stalked out the front door of The Shift and found Michael and the creep still standing there, with one of the bouncers in between them. “What the hell was that?” I snarled, totally ignoring the other dude. “Michael, you can't just fight for my honor, or whatever it is you think you were doing in there!”
Michael stared incredulously at me, his eyebrows rising towards his hairline. “Excuse me?” he asked. “You're mad at me? I saw this fucker wouldn't leave you alone, and for whatever reason, you didn't want to call security. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. That both of you were safe.”
I could feel blood surge towards my skin, a combination of my anger and his public announcement that I was pregnant. It didn't really matter who knew, but at the same time, I wasn't ready to start telling people yet. “Get away from me,” I told him. “I don't want to see you around here anymore. This whole thing was a bad idea.”
Michael looked stricken, but when he reached for me, I took a step back, shaking my head. What, did he think that he could just pull me into his arms, sweep me off my feet, and suddenly everything was going to be okay?
“I work here,” I reminded him. “You can't start fights like that. It reflects badly on me, and that reflects poorly on The Shift.”
“People start fights in here all the time,” Michael protested, but when he realized that wasn't going to get him anywhere, he looked suddenly, miserably contrite. “I'm sorry,” he said.
“Whatever,” I snapped, done with the whole thing. I realized there were people still watching us out there, on the street. This wasn't fixing the situation. In fact, it might be making things worse. It would be better for me to just get myself back inside, get away from him. At least until we'd both cooled off. At least until we could talk about things someplace more private.
I turned on my heel and stalked back inside, missing Michael's helpless expression. I didn't know if he tried to follow me, but with the bouncer still out there watching him, he couldn't get back inside. I hated feeling triumphant about that, but I felt as though I had bought myself a little time to think.
Erica pulled me into the back room, looking concernedly at my face. She seemed sorry for her anger from before. “Are you all right?” she asked quietly, and I nodded, forcing a smile on my face.
“I'm really sorry about that,” I told her. “It won't happen again.”
“I know it won't,” Erica said. She continued to stare at me for a moment and then shook her head. “Well, we'd better get back out there before
Jessica has a mental breakdown over the strain,” she said.
I nodded mutely and followed her back out. I spent the rest of the night pretending that everything was okay, even though honestly, I felt as though I was drowning beneath the force of my feelings.
Chapter Thirty-One
Michael
By Sunday afternoon, I still hadn't heard from Paige, even though it had been a couple days. I had tried calling her and messaging her, but she hadn't responded. I didn't dare go back to The Shift; I already felt horrible for causing a scene on Friday night, and I doubted Paige would want to talk to me there.
She was so maddening, though. I didn't get why it was so hard for her just to talk to me and tell me how she was feeling. I had protected her and gotten that guy, whoever he was, banned from The Shift. She ought to be thanking me, but instead, she had said she didn't want to talk to me. She was angry with me, and she was avoiding me. I didn't know what to do.
I still didn't know who the dude was, either. I hadn't heard what they were talking about, I had just seen Paige getting even more upset with him. He'd obviously wanted to sleep with her, and she'd wanted nothing to do with him.
At least, I hoped that was what had been going on. I couldn't stop thinking about the other alternatives. Maybe he was an old flame, like I'd originally thought. Maybe that was why she hadn't been happy with the way I had fought with him.
I grimaced. I wouldn't know what the truth was until I sat down and talked with her. But she was intent on avoiding me, it seemed.
Anyway, I was starting to realize that I needed to examine my own feelings for her before I could sit down and talk to her. It was one thing to not want to quit hooking up with her. It was one thing to think she was an amazing, sexy individual. It was one thing to want her and to consider a relationship with her.
But the more I thought about it, and the more I thought about why I'd felt the need to step in and fight that dude in the middle of a bar, the more I realized that it was more than strictly attraction that I felt towards her.
I tried to tell myself it was just because she was carrying my child. I was just looking out for both of their interests, that was all. But deep down, I knew it wasn't just that. I was starting to develop real feelings for her.
By Sunday, I couldn't take the avoidance anymore, and I decided to go over to her parents' house for dinner, even though she hadn't invited me. She wouldn't be able to avoid me there. Even though I didn't want to have a private conversation in front of her parents, I figured that maybe, if I played my cards right, I could get her to see how sorry I was and convince her to talk to me for a minute afterward.
It wasn't like I had any other possible plan of action.
I knocked on her parents' front door and waited impatiently on the porch. When Maggie answered the door, she looked confused. “When Paige said she was canceling on family dinner for this week, I didn't realize she meant that she wasn't going to make it but that you still were,” she said.
I blinked at her. I knew how much Paige loved these family dinners, so it took a moment for it to sink in: Paige had decided not to come to family dinner. She must be more upset than I had realized. Or maybe she was just exhausted again? I wondered if maybe the pregnancy was wearing her out or her job at The Shift. Maybe she was sick, and I should make an appointment for her to see the doctor, sooner rather than later. I wanted to think that she would have gone to the doctor's office on her own if she knew she was sick, but maybe she forgot that was an option, now that she wasn't trying so hard to make enough money just to survive.
“Sorry, I didn't realize Paige wouldn't be here,” I told Maggie. As much as I liked Paige's parents, it wasn't like I could stay for dinner when she wasn't even there. Especially not since I would spend the entire time worrying about her. “Did she say why she canceled?” I asked.
Maggie frowned. “No, I'm afraid she didn't,” Maggie said. “But I know she mentioned a few weeks ago that her schedule was going to be busy this month since her rent was increasing, so I assumed that she might have picked up some extra work.” She paused. “Are you and Paige doing okay?” she asked.
I couldn't help feeling embarrassed. Of course, Maggie must think that my lack of knowledge of Paige's whereabouts indicated that we were fighting. Something must be wrong in our relationship for me not to know that dinner was canceled.
I was frustrated with Paige for having put me in this situation. But then again, she hadn't put me in this predicament. She hadn't invited me over in the first place, so it was my own fault I was there when dinner had been cancelled.
“We're doing okay,” I lied, even though I was more confident than ever that something must be wrong with Paige, something she didn't want to tell me. We were going to need to talk.
But I already knew we needed to talk; I kept putting it off.
“Paige must not be feeling well,” I told Maggie. “I'd better go check on her and see if she needs anything.”
Maggie didn't look entirely convinced, but she merely told me goodbye and she was sure she'd see me soon. I got back in my car and pulled out my phone, calling Paige. When she didn't answer, I felt frustration course through me. I tried calling two more times as we drove back toward my apartment.
“You know what?” I finally muttered. I leaned forward. “Instead of bringing me back to my place, can you bring me over to Paige's building?” I knew I probably shouldn't just show up, and for all I knew, it was just what Maggie had suspected, and Paige had taken on more work. She could even have gotten a different job, one that would be easier to maintain while she was pregnant.
It occurred to me I knew very little about what was happening in Paige's life. She seemed determined to keep it that way, too, with the way she was avoiding talking to me. It bothered me in ways I didn't care to examine.
I spent the entire drive trying to think of what I wanted to say to Paige, but by the time I arrived, I was still no closer to finding the words. I shrugged to myself and headed up the stairs, pressing the buzzer outside her door.
No one answered, and I pressed the buzzer again and again. If I listened hard, I realized I could hear noises from inside the apartment, signs that someone was home. It wasn't hard to hear: the place was so tiny, you could probably hear a pin drop, even if you were outside the door.
I frowned, thinking again how much I wanted to move Paige into another place, where she would be a little more comfortable. But I couldn't just whisk her away from everything she'd ever known, as much as I might like to do so.
When still no one answered, I resumed calling her repeatedly, determined to make her listen to me. I felt almost like a madman, consumed by my frustration at the fact that she simply refused to talk to me. If nothing else, there was the contract between us.
Again, I wished that I had been able to foresee a situation like this, that I had ordered her to continue to be in contact with me. But then, that seemed like a very strange thing to do.
I sighed and slumped against the door just as it opened. I stumbled a step closer towards Paige, who hurriedly stepped back. “What?” she snapped.
I could tell she had been crying, and it nearly broke my heart to think she was this upset and still wouldn't talk to me.
“Is Erica here?” I asked softly, hoping Paige at least had her best friend to talk to if she wouldn't talk to me.
Paige gave me an unreadable look. “No, she isn't,” she said finally. “Why, do you need me to pee on another stick?”
I blinked and then shook my head. “Of course not,” I told her, surprised at how bitter she sounded. She must be having regrets about this, then, and I had the sudden desire to tear up our contract. But I still needed an heir, and I didn't know if she would go through with the pregnancy if there was no more contract between us.
I just wanted her to be okay.
“Paige, you have to talk to me,” I pleaded. “Tell me what's wrong. I want to help you.”
“Nothing's wrong,” Paige said, even though her vo
ice wavered and she couldn't quite meet my eyes. She sighed. “Just go away, Michael. I don't want to talk to you.” My hand reached out to her, an automatic thing. She took a step back, frowning at me. “Michael, I'm serious. I don't want to talk to you.”
“Can't you at least tell me what's wrong?” I asked her. “Are you sick? I went over to your parents' place, and they told me that you had bailed on family dinner.”
“I'm not sick, don't worry,” Paige said, sounding bitter. I wondered if she thought the health of the baby was all I cared about, but I didn't know how to make her believe otherwise. Didn't she realize I was here because I wanted to make sure she was okay?
“It's just hormones,” Paige said when I continued to stand there. “I'm pregnant, remember?”
“I remember,” I said softly. But I still couldn't leave her alone. “Why don't I come in?” I suggested. “We'll order some food and watch a movie or something. Maybe it would make you feel better.”
“I'm fine,” Paige said shortly. “Go away. Please.”
“No,” I told her, shaking my head. I didn't know why I was so loath to leave her on her own, but I hated the very idea of it. It had something to do with those tear-tracks that were still faintly visible on her cheeks, something to do with the redness in her eyes. Something to do with how brave she was being, going through with this pregnancy. Something to do with the way she had charmed everyone at the benefit dinner the other night. Something to do with her sexiness.
Something to do with those feelings I had for her, which I still couldn't put a name to.
“Paige, if something's wrong, I wish you would talk to me about it,” I told her. “Maybe I could help you.”
“Please,” Paige said softly, looking at the floor, a couple crystalline tears slipping down her cheeks. “Please, Michael. I wish you would just leave.”
I stared at her for a long moment, considering my options. I could stay, against her wishes, and try to force it out of her. Or I could stay against her wishes and ignore how upset she was. Order some food, pretend nothing was wrong. But in either of those cases, I knew she would be frustrated, and it would make her even more likely to avoid me in the future.
