The Baby Shower

by Tasha Blue et al.

  "Oliver," Lance brightened, "what do you think, would you like a hot little romp with the girls? This one is especially talented with her tongue." He smiled at the brunette, and Oliver knew he didn't retain her name.

  Oliver began to shake his head, but Shayna moved to him and slid one of her arms around his neck, reaching for his hand and drawing it to her full breast, closing it around the soft flesh. He turned and stared at her and she leaned up to kiss him but he jerked his head away from her.

  "Lance, we have to go see father!" he said in annoyance as he pulled his hand from Shayna's breast.

  She pouted at him. "Come on baby, we could have such a good time. I can make you feel so good." She grinned. "I like it any way you want." She purred at him as she rubbed her body against his and he pulled himself from her hold.

  "Father wants to see us now," Oliver said sharply, looking directly at Lance.

  Lance frowned. "Alright girls. The Lord and Master calls. Clear out," he said stormily. Just as Shayna turned to leave he grabbed her arm and pulled her back to him. "Wait a minute," he told her with a grin, burying his face in her breasts, sucking at them and kissing them before kissing her hard on the mouth for a long moment, and then he let her go and swatted her bare ass as she turned and walked away.

  "Okay officer, let's go," he said smartly to Oliver as he pulled a shirt on and buttoned the lower half of it.

  Oliver gritted his teeth and walked from the room with Lance on his heels.

  They were partway through the dining room before Oliver looked sidelong at his brother and asked with chagrin, "Were they hookers? You know father would never have approved of you having women like that in this house."

  Lance rolled his eyes in horror and scoffed. "Hookers? God no. Please. I'd never pay for sex." Then he grinned. "Women just love to give themselves to me and please me, and I love to let them, and what father doesn't know won't hurt him."

  Oliver could not believe his brother's arrogance and shallowness. They walked a bit further and Lance looked at him thoughtfully.

  "Why didn't you screw them? They'd have let you. That redhead would rock your little world and I told you the brunette could suck cold caramel through a straw. You'd have had a good time. Neither of them means anything to me. You never have women around. You should have taken advantage of the chance when you had it." He laughed a little.

  Oliver took a deep breath and held back his honest thoughts about how raunchy it was to use women the way that Lance did. "That's just it, Lance, I don't like taking advantage of them. I'd only be with a woman like that if I actually cared about her. I bet you don't remember either of their names."

  Lance raised his eyebrows and thought for a moment. "Monica... Monica... and... Lisa," he said with transparent confidence.

  "Not even close," Oliver said in a dark voice.

  "Oh, and I suppose you remember their names, even though you were only with them for a few minutes!" Lance challenged him.

  "Shayna and Brianna. It's called courtesy, Lance, you should learn that word and what it actually means." Oliver pressed his lips together in a thin line and opened the door to their father's office.

  Lance grew very cold suddenly. "Don't you dare give me any kind of lecture or advice on character. You're a child and you know nothing about it, or about me."

  Oliver sighed and wished that were true. They walked to the chairs placed before their father's desk and sat in them, both of their eyes on him, as his were on them.

  "Hello boys, thank you for coming in to visit with me," he said pleasantly.

  "Of course, father," Oliver said with a smile. He loved Henry with all of his heart. The only other person in the world that he loved as much as his father was his mother, and she had been gone a long time.

  "What do you need?" Lance asked shortly, cutting straight to the chase.

  His father looked at him with wise old eyes and frowned slightly. "This has very little to do with what I need, thankfully." He took a deep breath and leaned forward, closing his soft old hands and weaving his fingers together. "I want you both to know that I've been talking with our attorney and I am re-drafting my will, and consequently, your inheritance. It hasn't been changed since your mother passed all those years ago, and it should have been. It's long past time I should have taken care of it."

  Oliver's eyes fell from his father sitting before him to his own hands folded in his lap. His mother's passing had been difficult for them all, and they had chosen to handle it in different ways. She'd developed cancer and had endured a long, slow, painful death, one that all of their wealth could do nothing to change. His father had become slightly lost since her passing, and the keen and brilliant mind he still had was more often on memories of the past than on matters of the future.

  "What are you doing with it? Will I be getting control of everything?" Lance asked abruptly. Oliver looked over at his brother and narrowed his eyes slightly. He disliked the way Lance spoke to their father, the way he treated him, and the way he seemed so single minded about their father's estate.

  Henry drew a breath and raised his eyebrows slightly, looking at his older son seriously. "Well, that hasn't been decided yet, and it's partly the reason that you are here with me."

  His gaze shifted from Lance to Oliver and he continued. "I would like to know what you both want from the estate before I make any decisions. That doesn't mean you'll necessarily be getting what you want, but I am asking because I want to take your requests into consideration."

  He kept his eyes on Oliver. "What would you like, Oliver?"

  Oliver sighed. "I'd like to not ever need to discuss this matter. I'd like to just keep you around for the rest of my life, but of course, that's not possible." He thought for a moment and his green eyes found his father's dark brown ones. "I have invested my own money, and I'm doing well enough on my own. The only thing that would be really important to me is the portrait of you and mom on your wedding day, if that would be alright." He had loved it since he was a child and could understand what weddings were, and what the promise of spending a lifetime with someone really meant. He had dreamed all his life of finding someone someday with whom he could share his whole life, and continue the good legacy he came from.

  His father smiled. "It's probably one of the only things in this house I'd grab if there was ever a fire. I'm glad to see that it means something to you, too."

  Henry turned his head toward Lance. "What about you, Lance? What would you like?"

  Lance looked dumbfounded as if they should both already know what he wanted, and the fact that it was even a question was beyond him. "Well, I want everything, of course. I'm the oldest. It should come to me automatically." He looked at them both with slight annoyance and Oliver felt his ire stirring again deep within him.

  Henry just watched him quietly and then he nodded and leaned back in his chair, laying his hands flat upon the desk. "Alright, boys. That's all I wanted to know. You're both free to go. Thank you two for coming in here to talk with me."

  Oliver nodded and smiled at his father as he rose up. "Of course, Dad, of course. Thank you so much for being so considerate of us."

  Henry smiled and nodded at him.

  "Well, I've got a trip to pack for. I'll see you both later," Lance said over his shoulder as he headed for the door.

  Oliver turned and stared at him. "A trip? Where are you going?"

  "The Caribbean. There's a party waiting to happen and it won't start until I get there," he said with a chuckle.

  "How long are you going to be gone?" he asked, wishing he didn't sound like a worried parent. "That depends on how much fun I have, and how much trouble I can get into." He laughed as he vanished up the stairs toward the wing of the house where his room was.

  Oliver watched him go with a long sigh and shook his head as he turned and walked back to his office, wondering how it could be possible that he and Lance were related by blood.

  Just as Oliver was walking away from the foyer, he heard the doorbel
l ring and knowing he was closer to the front door than anyone including the butler, he answered it. Standing before him was a woman he'd never seen before, and his first thought at seeing her was that she was stunning.

  She had golden mahogany skin and long straight black hair that reached to her waist. She had an elegant figure and her rounded curves were complemented by her long legs and slender form. In her face, he found another world. She was mesmerizing; her eyes were ebony, lined with thick, long dark eyelashes. Her cheeks were high and angled, her nose was straight and narrow, her lips were full and looked as though they might be as soft as velvet.

  He felt as though he might have seen her on the cover of some model filled magazine, perhaps some black and white photograph somewhere that had given him pause, and he found himself trying to place her in his mind, but to no avail. He was so lost in her that he hadn't realized he hadn't said anything to her.

  "Hello." She smiled at him and her smile felt to him like the sun coming from behind a cloud.

  He blinked and stammered a moment. "H-Hello, I'm sorry, you must think me terribly rude. I didn't mean to uh... to leave you waiting there. Please come in. Can I help you?" he asked as she walked past him.

  He closed his eyes. The sweet scent of jasmine followed her, wafting lightly in the air and he breathed it in deeply.

  She turned around and looked at him. He was handsome, behind his glasses, and well built under the suit he wore, and she found herself feeling a little shy and warm cheeked. She wondered if he was related to the man she was looking for.

  "I'm Grace. Grace Jordan. I'm looking for Lance Carter. Is he here by chance?" She felt every nerve in her body twisting as though each one was a live bolt of lightning. She wished with all of her heart that she didn't have to make the visit she was making, but there was no way around it. It had to be made.

  Oliver laughed lightly and held his hand out. "I'm Oliver. I'm Lance's brother. He's here. I'll just...." He couldn't stop looking at her. She was breathtaking.

  Wilson, the butler, walked into the foyer. "Oh, I'm sorry, sir, I was coming to answer the door," he told Oliver, slightly embarrassed.

  "Thank you, Wilson. I just happened to be going past it when this lovely lady rang the bell. Would you please tell Lance that he has a visitor? Grace Jordan. We'll wait for him in the main library." Oliver smiled at Wilson, Wilson nodded subtly and then turned on his heel and went toward the winding staircase that led up to the second level of the house where Lance's room was.

  Oliver looked back at the woman before him. She was wearing a vanilla colored sweater dress that clung to her body like a lover, without giving too much away. Almost none of her skin was showing, save for the very top swell of her breasts where the dress was scooped on her chest. She wore a belt and matching boots with it. It seemed the very thing for a cool day in late spring, and her style impressed him.

  "Grace, would you like to come into the library and wait with me? I'll keep you company until he comes down. He's busy just now, but I think he will be down soon enough. I know if you were here to see me, I certainly wouldn't keep you waiting." He gave her a friendly smile and tipped his head toward the direction of the library.

  She thought he was sweet and cute, and she liked him right away. It was good, she thought, that there was someone like this related to Lance. She hoped that Lance would be as charming as his brother was when she explained the reason for her visit.

  They walked through a few ornately decorated rooms and came to the library, where Oliver offered her a seat on the luxurious leather sofa in one corner of the room. She sat and he looked at her with a warm smile.

  "Can I get you anything to drink? Would you like a glass of wine perhaps?" he asked, thinking that maybe he should go out more often with his brother, if this was the sort of woman that his brother spent time with.

  Grace shook her head. "No thank you. Hot tea would be nice, though. It's a little chilly today. I can't wait for summer and the warmer weather."

  He nodded. "I agree. I like the sunny days myself."

  Just then Wilson walked in the door. He looked at Oliver and tipped his head slightly. "Mr. Carter will be down shortly. Will there be any refreshment?"

  "Hot tea please, just two for now. Thank you, Wilson." Oliver smiled at him. He knew it was highly unlikely that Lance would drink anything as weak as tea.

  Wilson nodded and left quietly.

  She looked at him with interest. "Are you Lance's older brother, or younger?"

  He smiled and shrugged a little. "I'm his younger brother."

  She smiled and it dazzled him again. "You look so different," she said in kind way.

  Oliver shook his head. "We are as different as two people could be." He felt he should not leave it as blunt as that, so he added. "I look more like my mother, and he like our father."

  Grace held his green eyes with dark ones. "Your mother must be a very beautiful woman, then."

  Oliver thought of his mother. She had beauty, style and grace, just as the woman sitting before him did. He wondered for a moment if that was why she seemed so attractive to him.

  "She was beautiful. She has been gone a while," he said, and felt the familiar pain sear his heart. He would always miss her terribly. She had been the light of his world when she was alive.

  Sorrow overtook Grace's eyes. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know," she said quietly.

  He shrugged. "It's alright. I doubt my brother makes it common knowledge with his... friends." He changed his choice of words at the last moment.

  "Doubt that I make what common knowledge?" Lance asked as he strode in the room. His gaze went from Oliver to Grace and he whistled low and paused in his tracks, staring at her and smiling widely as she stood up.

  "Well, hello there. Aren't you breathtaking! I'm Lance Carter," he said, walking toward her and taking her hand in his.

  She stared at him with wide eyes and a frown formed on the corners of her rounded lips. "I'm Grace. We've met," she said in a low voice.

  Oliver was astounded; he couldn’t fathom how his brother had met this woman and forgotten.

  "Oh! Well then, it's good to see you again." He slid his arms around her, pulling her up against him and kissing her mouth softly before letting her go. "Very good," he drawled.

  She moved away from him slightly but he kept his hand on her hip and shook his head as his eyes traveled slowly over the entirety of her and then met her gaze again.

  "Would you like to talk here, or can I interest you in coming up to my bedroom with me? It's infinitely more... comfortable... up there." He grinned at her and gave her a wink.

  Grace pulled away from him fully. "We should talk here. It's very serious." She looked at him in consternation.

  Oliver thought he might be sick watching his brother treat a lady that way. He turned and headed for the door, but Lance, seeing the darkening expression on Grace's face, waved his hand at his brother.

  "Wait, Oliver, why don't you stick around?" Lance flipped his hand casually. "He's my brother, you can talk with both of us here. What can I do for you? Or, with any luck, to you?" He grinned lasciviously at her again.

  Oliver, torn between not wanting to stay and watch his brother's treatment of Grace, and wanting to stay because he wanted to see Grace, paused in his step and decided to stay. He turned on his heel and walked back to the chair that faced Grace.

  She grew annoyed and wondered how on earth she had ever wound up in her predicament. She wondered how she ever could have found the man before her attractive at all. He was repulsive in the light of day, with no champagne to cloud her brain. He might look beautiful on the outside, but she could see clearly that it didn't go much further than skin deep.

  She lifted her delicate chin and looked him in the eye. "You've already done it to me, Lance. We... we spent the night together a few months ago."

  He raised his eyebrows and laughed. "We did? We've already spent the night together and you don't want to come upstairs with me? Are you sure?"
r />   Grace was shocked. "Yes, we spent the night together! We were both at a party at the Harrington's! I can't believe you don't remember!"

  He twisted his mouth as he pondered, and then rubbed his chin. "Harrington's.... Harrington's...." He looked stumped for a full minute. Then suddenly he looked up at her in awe and snapped his fingers.

  "The upstairs bathroom? Did I follow you in there?" he looked at her quizzically.

  Oliver thought he might be sick. He couldn't remember why he had stayed in the library with them.

  She looked away in shame for a moment. "Yes."

  Lance laughed and shrugged. "I had a lot to drink that night. I'm sure I wasn't... performing my best..." He moved toward her again and slid his hand around her waist, pulling her closer to him. "You know, you should come upstairs with me. I'll show you a much better time." He leaned over to nuzzle her face and she planted her hands on his chest and pushed him away.

  "That's not why I'm here!" she said firmly.

  He blinked at her in surprise as if he couldn't imagine what other reason might have brought her there. "Well... why are you here?" he asked in confusion.

  She took a deep breath and looked up at him. Her heart was pounding and she didn't know how she was going to get the words out, but she knew she had to. She dug deep into herself for some untapped resource of strength and courage. "I'm pregnant."

  A softer bomb was never dropped on the face of the planet. The silence in the room was so strong that it could be felt.

  She had done it. She had spoken the words out loud and said it to the father of the child nestled in her belly. It had been the most difficult thing she had ever had to say to anyone, and she had dreaded it for two weeks, putting off the inevitable visit to him, but she had found him, which was no small task, and she had said it to him, and somehow she was able to breath again, and she realized that everything after saying those words to him was all going to be easier for her.

  Lance stared at her as if he was frozen for a moment, and then he blinked and almost choked when he asked, "You're... you're what?"

  She knew it would probably come as a surprise to him. She had been prepared for that. She sighed and repeated. "I'm pregnant. You and I are going to have a child." It had been difficult enough to say it the first time without having to say it twice.