by Amanda Aksel
“Aren’t you glad you came?” she asks, her smile lighting her eyes under the dim strobe lights.
“Yeah. I think I needed this.”
“Me too. Besides, I won’t be able to go out like this much longer . . . if we keep the baby, I mean.” Beau doesn’t seem upset at the idea.
“Do you want to keep the baby?”
She lets out a sigh. “Yes. And no. I’m still not sure how I feel about it.”
I nod. “I know what you mean.” But really, I think I do want her to keep the baby. But I also don’t want her to go through with a pregnancy and being the mother of my child if that’s not what she wants. So that’s why I keep it to myself.
“Maybe we shouldn’t talk about it. At least for tonight. Let’s give ourselves a break.”
“Good idea.” The thought was beginning to kill my buzz anyway. I watch Beau’s shoulders drop. “That was some kiss you gave me back there.”
She looks at me, smirking. “Well, anything to help a friend.”
“Oh, so we’re not strangers anymore?” I ask, thinking back to our first encounter at the airport.
“No, we’re definitely not strangers.” Her eyes fall and her lips part. I pull her body closer to me, and just as my lips touch hers, I’m knocked off balance and we almost break apart. I look up and see the faces of my two greatest enemies—Davina and Dom. My ex-fiancée sports glitter on her face and tacky gloss on her lips. And Dom doesn’t look much better.
“Mick,” Davina says, dropping her smile while Dom narrows his eyes at me. “What are you doing here?”
I give her an intense look, heat building in my chest as adrenaline courses through my veins. Then I look at Dom, and it’s like he’s telling me to piss off with a scowl. I ball my fist and step my right foot back. It would be brilliant to knock this guy on his ass. My glare shifts between the two of them, and the memories of that day, of my entire relationship with Davina, come flooding back to me. Why would I want those kinds of people in my life? And why would I sacrifice potentially injuring my hand, not to mention a lawsuit, for them? I loosen my grip and take Beau’s hand.
“I’d watch my step if I were you,” I say to Dom, then dart a glare at Davina. “C’mon, let’s go.” I pull Beau off the dance floor, holding my breath until we’ve come to a clearing.
“Who was that?” Beau eyes are wide with panic.
“Someone I thought I’d never see again.”
“Huh?” She looks completely confused, and I really don’t want to tell her all about what happened right now. Not here. At the same time, I don’t think I can enjoy myself knowing that they’re here. But Beau’s had a tough week. I want her to have fun. She deserves it.
“Look, I’m really sorry, but I think I should go,” I tell her.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
I shake my head. “No, you stay. Have a good time. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay,” she says with a frown.
And sadly, I walk away from her and back out into the cold.
18
T HAT WAS SO WEIRD. For a second I thought Mick was going to hit that guy just for bumping into us. I’m glad he’s not the violent type because that’s a straight up deal breaker for me.
“Hey,” Kate calls from behind me. I turn, faced with Kate and Drew’s concerned stares. “Did Mick just leave?”
“Yeah, he said he needed to go.”
“Did he get paged?” Drew asks.
I shake my head. “We were on the dance floor having a good time and then this couple bumped into us, and I guess they know each other. He really didn’t say.”
“Who was it?” Drew asks.
I squint my eyes, peering over the crowd. Where is that huge hair bow? “There.” I point. “The one with the denim top.”
“Oh, shit,” Drew utters.
“What?” I ask.
“That’s Davina, Mick’s ex-fiancée.”
I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. “Oh, my God. That’s the one he caught cheating before the wedding?” My heart literally feels like it’s breaking for Mick. I’ve been there before, not on my wedding day, but it’s probably one of the worst experiences—when the person you love loves someone else.
“Yeah,” Kate confirms.
“I heard they just came back to London, waiting for the scandal to die down, I guess.”
“Should we go after Mick?” I ask. “He just left.”
Drew shakes his head. “Let’s give him a head start. I’m sure he just needs a minute.”
“It doesn’t feel right, staying here without him. Especially after that,” I say.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Let’s get our things and head home to the manor.”
On the way back, all I can think about is how Mick must be feeling right now. Does he still love that girl or have any feelings for her? I want to talk to him about it, help him out, but I’m not sure we’re there yet. But there might be something I can do. Whenever I’m sad, I comfort myself with some good food.
“Drew, what’s Mick’s favorite thing to eat?” I ask.
“That would be shepherd’s pie.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever had shepherd’s pie.” It’s not like the UK is known for their cuisine. “And where can we get one?”
It’s after ten, and most restaurants are closing down. Drew mentions a small diner not far from his flat that has it. I phone in the order for pick up, including something warm and satisfying for all of us, and by the time we arrive, the food is ready.
We pull up to the manor about half an hour later. Mick’s car is parked in front. Drew and Kate help me carry in the food, and we set it in the large kitchen. I take Mick’s and mine and ask Earl where I can find him.
“He’s in his study. Would you like me to show you where it is?” he asks.
“Please.”
I follow Earl upstairs and down the hallway opposite my room. Mick’s door is open and a light streams into the shadowy hallway. “It’s right there, Miss.”
“Thank you, Earl,” I say and head forward.
Mick sits in a seat behind a large mahogany desk, throwing a small ball against the wall like he’s playing one-man racquetball.
“Hey,” I say.
He whips around in his chair. “Hey. What are you doing here? I thought you were staying at the club.”
I shake my head. “We didn’t feel right about enjoying the night without you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your evening.”
“You haven’t ruined anything. Besides, a pregnant woman has to eat, and it was a good excuse for me to bring you your favorite.” I take out the container and hand it to him.
He opens it and steam wafts in his face. “Shepherd’s pie. How did you know this was my favorite?”
I smile. “Drew told me.”
“Oh, well, this is very thoughtful of you.”
“Do you mind if join you?” I gesture to the chair.
“Of course.” He scoots his closer to the desk and stabs his fork into the pie.
“Drew told me who that woman was,” I say before taking a bite of my meal.
He looks up with his mouth full. “He did?”
“Yeah. Is that the first time you’ve seen her since . . .”
He keeps his eyes down. “Yeah. I guess he told you what happened too.”
“Actually, Kate told me about it when it happened. She was Drew’s date.”
“So, you’ve known this whole time?” he asks, seeming upset.
“I forgot about it until Kate’s wedding. But yeah, I’ve known.”
“It’s crazy how I can never seem to get away from what happened that day.” He lowers his head, and his fork goes limp.
“I can only imagine. But there’s nothing to be ashamed about—”
“Has that ever happened to you?”
“You mean walking in on someone I love having sex with someone else on my wedding day?” I hope that didn’t come off as insensitive.
&n
bsp; His cheeks turn red. “Yeah. That.”
“Everything except the wedding day part. It’s happened to me a couple of times.”
“So, you know how humiliating it is.”
I nod. “I do. The first time I was crushed. The second time I was furious. But both times I felt like a fool.”
“I felt all of those things when it happened. I still feel like an idiot. How could I not have known? I’m usually a hell of a lot more astute than that.”
“I get it.” I shrug. “Love makes us dumb. We ignore all the red flags in pursuit of that amazing feeling we get when everything is good and exciting. So, please, don’t feel stupid. She only hurt you because you allowed yourself to open your heart enough to be hurt. That’s not a bad thing. As long as you don’t do it with every single gorgeous woman that you meet. That’s what I’ve learned anyway.”
“Well, since that day, I haven’t opened up to anyone.”
His words sting a little. I never realized until this moment just how unavailable he’s been to me this whole time. Sure, taking responsibility for a child is one thing, but opening himself up to me is totally different. I haven’t been vulnerable to anyone for a long time either. Not until him. I guess the feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. “I know what you mean. I have really bad luck in love.”
“You do? Why?” he asks, curious.
“I choose men that aren’t available.” Saying the words to Mick only makes it clearer that I’ve done just that with him. He fits all of my checkboxes—foreign, sexy, great in bed, and not at all ready for what I have to offer.
“I see,” he says. “So, I guess we’re cursed. No wonder we were on the thirteenth floor of that hotel.”
I chuckle. “You’re not cursed. One time does not make a curse.” I point to myself. “I’m the one who’s cursed.”
“So how do we break the curse?” he asks.
“Well, I was just trying to abstain from anything related to sex or love. But then you came along and . . .” I can’t help but blush.
“And . . . ?”
“You know what happened. And now look where that’s gotten us.” I point to my still flat belly. “See, cursed.”
“A baby isn’t a curse, it’s a—”
“What? A blessing?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know about that, my friend. Do blessings make you almost throw up in someone’s mouth when they’re about to kiss you?” I ask, feeling myself push his boundaries a little.
“Maybe not. But you have to admit, life’s gotten a lot more interesting since I knocked you up.” He smirks.
“A little humor, huh? I guess the shepherd’s pie cheered you up after all.”
“No, that’s not what cheered me up.” He smiles again, looking into my eyes. He wants me. I can tell. I can always tell. But I can’t, not tonight. Even though I’m crazy horny. If we sleep together now, it won’t mean anything other than that we’re looking for love in all the wrong places.
19
T HE NEXT MORNING, I meet Drew and Kate at the front door with Beau at my side, Earl wheeling luggage past us.
“It was good seeing you, man. Come visit me when you can.” Drew brings me in for a brotherly hug.
“I will,” I say, patting his back.
Kate reaches out. “Take care of yourself, Mick. And my friend.”
“Okay,” I say with a little chuckle.
Kate and Beau nearly knock each other over with their embrace. The two hold for a while, rocking side to side as if they’re trying to extract everything they can from each other. “Call me as soon as you get back to New York.”
“Okay.” Kate lets her go. “You call me if you need anything, okay?”
They wave goodbye one last time before leaving. When the door closes behind them, I’m hyperaware of the fact that it’s just Beau and me. And Earl.
“Are you hungry?” she asks
I put my hand on my stomach. “Yeah, I could go for some breakfast.”
“Good, I could totally go for an egg burrito right now.”
“I’ll have Earl make you one,” I say.
“No, that’s okay. I want to make it. You want one too?”
“Sure.”
I follow Beau into the kitchen.
“I’m gonna need your help finding a few things. Your kitchen is huge.”
“I know. It’s almost too big.” Most of the time, this entire place is too big for me.
“No such thing.” She opens the fridge and grabs a pepper, some cheese, and tortilla wraps. “Okay, now I need an onion and some spices.” I walk over to one of the cabinets and pull out the vegetable and open another drawer, revealing neatly organized spices. “This is perfect.”
I find a skillet and hand it to her. “Do you need any help?”
“Sure, you can chop this onion while I chop this pepper.”
I narrow my eyes. “Why do I get the onion?”
“Because it takes a real man to chop an onion and risk tearing up. That and I’d rather not smear my mascara.”
Challenge accepted. “All right then.”
The two of us chop our produce on the counter standing side by side. Beau’s practically murdering her pepper, while I make elegant slices in the onion. She shoots me a look and shakes her head. “Surgeons.”
“Don’t be jealous of my intricate work,” I joke.
“Intricate? It’s an onion.” She tosses her cut pepper in the pan, and it sizzles.
“So where did you learn to cook?” The women I know who come from a life of privilege don’t know how to use a stove.
“I took a few classes, but mostly it’s just something I enjoy.”
“I can definitely appreciate that. My ex couldn’t even boil water. Not that she needed to with Earl around.”
Uh-oh. Did I say that out loud?
Beau either doesn’t hear me or has the sense to completely ignore it. “I’m kind of a foodie.”
My brow lifts. “Is that right?”
“Oh yeah. I’m crazy about food from all over the world.”
“What’s your favorite place?” I ask.
“It’s Il Piacere in Florence. They have the best Arancini.”
That’s mad. I love Il Piacere. “I know that place.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, it’s right in Piazza della Rosa. I go there every time I visit the area.”
“No way!” She hands me a plate with a warm burrito, and the smell of cooked peppers and melted cheese fills my nose. Then, as soon as we’re about to sit down to eat, my pager goes off.
“Shit. I have to get to the hospital,” I say.
“Good thing these burritos can travel.”
I smile and call Earl in to wrap our breakfast.
***
Later at the hospital, I’ve just gotten out of surgery and run downstairs to update Dr. Claude on the patient that came into the ER this morning. He nods as I tell him that his diagnosis was correct and it was the right thing to call me.
“Thanks, Bonnaire,” he says, patting my arm. “So, I have to ask. Are you shagging your patient’s daughter?”
“What?” I ask.
“The fainter. I saw you two walk in together this morning.”
“She has a name.”
“I know that. You still didn’t answer my question.”
“No, we’re not shagging.” Though I wish we were. “She’s just staying at my house. Her best friend is my brother’s wife.”
He smiles. “Oh, I see. So, are you thinking about sleeping with her?”
“I already did. Two months ago.”
Claude seems to be doing calculations in his head. “Two months ago?”
“Yes, I know she’s pregnant. And it’s mine.”
“Wow,” he gapes. “That is not how I was expecting this conversation to go. Why didn’t you tell me when she came into the hospital?”
“I just found out. Besides, she hasn’t decided whether or not she wants to keep the baby.”
“She hasn’t decided.”
“Yes,” I say. “Her body, her choice.”
“Look, I don’t disagree. I just don’t want this to be another Davina situation.”
I raise my brow. “How so?”
“You let her do whatever the fuck she wanted to. I watched you put yourself last on more than one occasion. I mean, moving into the manor wasn’t even your idea. You gave her everything she wanted, and how did she show her appreciation?”
Heat creeps up my neck at the thought. “That was different. Beau isn’t like her.” And the moment the words leave my mouth, I feel their truth.
“Maybe so, but I don’t want you to be stuck with a major life decision that you had no say in.”
“Okay, that’s fair. But I’m not really sure what the best decision is. We hardly know each other, and she lives in California. She couldn’t be further away.”
“Who said anything about the best decision? What do you want?”
He has a point. I know what I want. I want to keep the baby, and perhaps, I want to keep Beau too.
20
I CARRY A TRAY FROM THE CAFETERIA TO MY DAD’S ROOM. Propped up in his hospital bed, he’s reading what looks like a two-hundred-page movie script. The sound of Suzanne clicking away on her laptop competes with the beeps from Dad’s monitors.
“Hey, Daddy. Hey, Suzanne,” I say.
Suzanne looks up from the sofa at the other end of the room. “Hello!”
“Just in time. I’m hungry. Whatcha got for me?” Dad rubs his hands together.
I set the tray down on the table and pull off the beige plastic cover. “A salad, and some chicken rice soup, with a sliced apple on the side.”
He gives me a caustic look. “No dessert?”
“I’ll tell you what, you eat this and I’ll go get you some chocolate pudding.”
“Negotiating dessert, very mother-like.” He gives an approving nod and dips his spoon into the soup. I blush a bit at my first “parental” compliment, resting my hand on my stomach. For a moment, I imagine having a similar exchange with my child, only at our dinner table and not alongside a hospital bed. My mind drifts, seeing myself five years older—same body, of course, sitting with my son in Mick’s informal dining room. I can almost hear the child’s precious British accent.
