by Amy Brent
I finished off the bottle of water, took a deep breath and sat on the toilet. I unwrapped one of the tests and waited impatiently for my bladder to do its thing. Tears sprung to my eyes when I finally had the urge to pee. I stuck the stick between my legs before I set it off to the side, and I unwrapped a second one while holding back my urine just to make sure. If both tests were negative, I was really in the clear. That meant my stress and anxiety was just wreaking havoc on my body.
“Just be negative. Just be negative. Just be negative.”
I cleaned myself up and washed my hands while the pregnancy tests sat on the back of the toilet. I paced around in the drug store bathroom, my mind reeling with every possible thing that could go wrong. L was going to lose everything and I was going to be stuck with a child I couldn’t raise. L was many things, but a father was the last word anyone would use to describe Ellison James.
And I wasn’t sure if it was a word I could use to describe him either.
I looked over at the tests and felt a sense of dread boiling up in my stomach. I bent over the kitchen sink and vomited again, watching the stomach bile and water swirl down the sink drain. I turned on the faucet and washed my mouth out before I looked at myself in the mirror, and that’s when I realized just how bad I looked.
My mascara was running, my eyeliner was smudged. My foundation was streaked where tears had been flowing down my cheeks and my blush was now sitting in the crook of my neck. I splashed handfuls of water in my face before I reached for a ton of paper towels. I needed to erase this woman. This under-confident, lazy, anxious woman needed to flee the scene. If I was pregnant, I needed to buck up and be a woman about it. If I wasn’t pregnant, I needed to buck up against L and figure out why the fuck he wasn’t messaging me back.
I drew in a deep breath before I walked back over to the pregnancy tests and I picked them up. I studied them closely as tears filled my eyes once again, and I clutched them tight in the palms of my hands while my stomach dropped to my knees.
I was pregnant.
I threw the tests away and grabbed the last one I hadn’t used. I could take it again in the morning just to be sure, but two tests didn’t lie. I burst from the bathroom and ran through the store, making my way to my car as I scrambled for my phone. I realized I had a missed text message from L on my burner phone, confirming my worst fear with Michael.
But all that seemed to pale in comparison now as my hand mindlessly migrated to my stomach.
L, we really do need to talk. Could you come over to my place? I’ll be there soon.
I sent the text message before I scrambled into my car. I needed to get this food home and get Johnson fed. I had to keep myself distracted until I could get face to face with L, and the best way to do that was with my cat.
I raced home, my mind no longer flying at warp speed. The only thing I could think about was those two pregnancy tests. They were glaring in my mind, mocking me for all the terrible decisions I had ever made with my life. In one fell swoop, I’d gone from legitimately working my way up the ladder to carrying the boss-man’s child, and I cursed myself as I pulled into my complex.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you, Charlie?” I asked myself. “What the hell were you thinking?”
I grabbed my purse and shoved the burner phone in it before I grabbed all my groceries from the back. Even though I knew I needed to eat, I wasn’t hungry. My stomach was rolling with nausea and all I wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep. I felt exhausted, I felt spent, and I felt like the worst was yet to come.
And when I realized my front door was unlocked, I knew I was exactly right.
“Hello?” I called out.
“You really should lock your door, you know.”
“Damn it, Rick. What the fuck are you doing here?” I asked.
“It’s a good thing I popped by. Johnson didn’t have any food and you didn’t have any here,” he said.
“What. The fuck. Are you doing in my apartment?” I asked.
“I came by this morning to check in on you. You didn’t let me know when you got back into town from your last business trip or whatever, and I was worried. Your front door was fucking unlocked, Charlie. That’s not safe.”
“There’s so much wrong with that statement, I don’t even know where to begin,” I said.
“Here, let me help you with those,” he said.
“No, Rick,” I said, yanking away from him. I walked over to the counter and tossed all my shit on top of it before I turned on my heels to face him.
“Put down my cat so I have your full attention,” I said.
“Charlie. What’s wrong? Something’s happened at work, hasn’t it?” he asked.
“Why would you even—? Forget it, I don’t care. Look. I don’t tell you when I’m coming and going because I don’t have to. We aren’t dating anymore, nor will we ever date again in the future. Are we clear on that?”
“Charlie, are you feeling—”
“I do not want to be with you, Rick!” I yelled. “Are you listening!?”
“Yes, Charlie. Fuck. I’m listening,” he said.
“You will never know when I’m coming and going because it’s none of your damn business. You will not watch Johnson because he is fine. You will not come by my apartment just to check on me because it’s not your job.”
“Oh, but its Adam’s?” he asked.
“Who the fuck is Adam!?” I shrieked.
“No one,” he said. “It’s obvious you’ve been distracted lately, though. I’m serious. Your door was unlocked this morning when I came by. I thought someone had come in and hurt you or something.”
“And if someone had, I’m more than capable of defending myself. You are not my knight in shining armor. Now, get out,” I said.
“Charlie—”
“Get the fuck out, Rick!”
“You’re gonna regret this, you know,” he said. “I’m the only man who treats you with any sort of dignity. Who follows you around and tells you like it is. Who brings you back to the ground whenever you’re floating in the clouds.”
“And there is where the issue lies, Rick,” I said. “I don’t want someone who treats me with dignity. I want someone who treats me with respect. I don’t want someone who follows me around, I want someone who walks by my side. I don’t want someone to tell me like it is, I want someone to support my words. And I don’t want someone to bring me back down from the clouds, I want someone who floats up there with me. Who chases my dreams with me. Who believes in me as much as I believe in myself. Who doesn’t try to hold me back because they’re lazy. That’s what I want, Rick. And that’s not you.”
I held his gaze for quite some time as I watched the red tint of anger brush his cheeks. For a split second, I thought he was going to lash out. I thought he was going to lunge at me or shut the door and not leave. I thought I was going to have to forcefully make him leave or have someone escort him out.
But all he did was slowly turn around and slam the door behind him.
“Stupid bitch!” he yelled outside.
I brushed off his words and picked up my burner phone. L hadn’t messaged back, so I sent him another one. I really needed him to come over so we could talk, and I was getting very worried. He wasn’t answering again. He didn’t answer the first time because Michael was probably tearing him a new one, and part of me wanted to go back into work to see if everything was alright.
Why the hell wasn’t he responding?
I cried myself to sleep that night and woke up at 4 AM needing to pee. I rummaged around in my purse for the last pregnancy test, which only confirmed the positive result the first two had given me. I felt my anxiety take over again. I grabbed the trash can at my knees and threw up into it, releasing the pasta I’d made and forced myself to eat last night.
And still, L had not responded.
I called him just before 5 AM to see if he would pick up, but all I got was his voicemail. I sent in an email to my direct boss, telling him I need
ed another sick day because I was going to the doctor, but really I needed the time to process all my emotions. My anxiety wasn’t making this situation any better, and by the time 9 AM rolled around I had called L five separate times.
And he wasn’t returning my calls.
“Something’s wrong,” I said to myself. “Something’s really, really wrong.”
I hated missing work. There was so much to do with this massive project in the Bahamas and the company was due for another trip out there soon. But, I had bigger things on my mind. How in the world was I supposed to hide a pregnancy? It was obviously going to make me very nauseous and I could already feel the exhaustion seeping deep into my bones. How was I supposed to hide all of this at work?
I knew enough about pregnancy to know I could no longer drink caffeine to keep my energy level up. I also knew it would raise some serious red flags with L the moment I refused any sort of alcoholic beverage. But then, a thought crossed my mind.
Should I even have this baby?
Tears rose to my eyes the moment I thought about it. The idea of terminating this pregnancy caused an ache deep inside of me, but it was a viable option. There was a great possibility that L wouldn’t even want this child. With everything that was probably going on with the company right now, he wasn’t even taking the time to return my calls.
Why the fuck was I under the assumption he’d take on a child with me?
Why in the world had I convinced myself he would be alright with this?
Why the fuck was L not calling me back!?
I shrieked with anger in the middle of my apartment. I scared Johnson so bad he rushed underneath my bed, and I collapsed to my knees in the middle of my kitchen. How in the hell could L and I have the picture perfect date, then have everything crash down around us so quickly? How could L tell me he loved me, then evade me the way he was doing?
I didn’t expect him to give up his company for me. I knew what I was getting myself into. I knew if someone found out, we’d have to create distance between us. But, I didn’t honestly think he would blatantly ignore me like this. L was the king of poker faces. There wasn’t a reason in this world why he couldn't slip into a bathroom and shoot me a quick message.
Not a reason in this world.
Johnson was meowing with fear underneath my bed while I sobbed into my hands. It wasn’t possible for L to be serious about what he told me. This wasn’t how you treated a woman you loved, even if things were crashing down around us. If you loved someone, you ran to them—not away from them. If you loved someone, you took their calls. If you loved someone and you knew they’d left work early because they were sick, you’d do something to check up on them.
You’d send them a message, or call, or come by.
Where the fuck was L when I needed him the most?
I sniffled and wiped my snotty nose on my arm before I sat myself back against my dishwasher. The truth of the matter was, Ellison James had always been a playboy. Up until this moment, he was known for keeping the best eye candy on his arm and rotating flavors monthly. The media called him the Ben and Jerry’s of women, and compared his dating life to carnivals switching out game booths.
Maybe this was his way of communicating to me that I was nothing more than his flavor of the month. Maybe this was him letting me know that, because Michael found out, my game booth was now being retired in his wacky carnival of freakish escapades.
I felt my stomach rolling again and bent over to the side as I heaved up the last of my dinner from last night. Tears streamed down my face as my abdomen began to ache, and for the first time since this wild roller coaster had started, I didn’t care.
I didn’t care to clean up the mess on my face, and I didn’t care to wipe up the floor. I didn’t care about the taste of vomit in my mouth, and I didn’t care about my job.
All I cared about was how I allowed a blatant playboy to wiggle his way into my life before taking it down at the legs. All I cared about was how, in one fell swoop, I became everything I had prided myself on never becoming.
All I cared about was figuring out how the hell I was going to bring this up to L.
And I laid my cheek against the cool surface of my dishwasher and sobbed the rest of my day away.
Chapter 29
Ellison
Of course she wouldn’t fucking show her face at work. She was a coward. A dick-sucking coward that didn’t have the balls to face her own workplace after being caught in her lies. Her goofy-looking boyfriend probably told her I came by and she knew our relationship was over. Our sham of a relationship she conned me into just to get to where she wanted to be at work. She was all too happy when I told her about investing in her dreams, and that should’ve been my red flag. She didn’t want fancy dinners or jewelry or cars.
She wanted my monetary investment in her fucking future business.
She was hiding out and I knew it. I’d put a watch on my computer for her incoming calls and her file, and both times she called out of work sick I couldn’t help but laugh to myself. She had the balls to string me on until she was caught in her web of lies, and then she didn’t even have the gumption to save face and get her ass in to work.
I bet she didn’t even care about this company. She just thought she could screw her way to the top and take over whatever the fuck it was she thought she did well.
But she had another think coming. Whenever she got into this office, she would be out of a job. Charlie was in a great deal of trouble when she did decide to finally show her pathetic face at my company, and I hope she had other things on her resume. I hope she had work experience before this company hired her and I hope to hell she had internships in college, because if someone called here looking for a reference for her, I would slaughter her.
I would explode her entire future the way she had destroyed mine.
My mind ran through a number of options. I thought about sending her an email. Just a short and to-the-point email, letting her know she no longer had a job. Better yet, I could demote her. I could put her all the way back to where she started, yank her salary and benefits away, and watch her grovel in her boss’s office before she quit on her own. I could force her out by taking away all the dreams I saw reflected in her eyes whenever she looked at me, and I would take great pleasure in watching her fall.
Watching her. That’s what I wanted to do. I wanted to see her face when I fired her. Or demoted her. Or whatever the hell I was gonna do to her.
I would wait until she grew the balls to show up at this office, and then I would yank her courage away from her by ripping from her the very thing she wanted most.
Just like she had with me.
“Mr. James?”
I was not in any kind of mood to deal with Sheila and her shit. She didn’t have any files or folders in her hand, which told me she wasn’t in here for business, and the look on her face made it seem as if she was slightly constipated.
“Can it wait, Miss Brown?” I asked.
“Not necessarily. I have a question about the marketing schemes I sent your way last week,” she said.
“Come on in,” I said.
I watched her out of the corner of my eye as she sashayed her hips wider than normal. Her eyes were darting all along my body, clocking my neck and chest and thighs. What the hell did I have to do to get this rail-thin woman to understand I wasn’t interested? If she wasn’t careful, she’d whore herself right out of a job.
Just like Charlie did.
I got up and pieced myself together before she could reach my chair. So long as I loomed over her, she would know her place. She rose her gaze to connect with mine, standing only a few feet from me.
“What’s your question, Miss Brown?” I asked.
“Well, I was just wondering if—”
She took a step and tripped, her ankle rolling in her heel, and she planted her hand into my chest as her bare thigh brushed against my leg. I grabbed her wrist, helping her steady herself before I threw her hand down in f
ront of her body. Her leg was still attached to mine as she tried to scoot herself closer into my warmth, and I took a step back before she faked another small stumble.
That was when I stepped out of her way, watching her fall against the edge of my desk as I eyed her carefully. I knew exactly what she was pulling, and I wasn’t having any of it.
“I suppose that works with many men you come into contact with, Miss Brown, but it doesn’t with me,” I said.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. James, I completely lost my—”
“I don’t care what you lost, Miss Brown. For months now, your demeanor around me has been incredibly inappropriate. You might manipulate men in meetings with light touches and brushes against their shoulders, Miss Brown, but it might do you some good to remind yourself of who I am,” I said.
She turned herself around and shook out her foot before she sat down on the edge of my desk. Her eyes no longer held the innocent, doe-eyed gaze she was giving me earlier. Instead, they were replaced with the shark-like stare I’d become accustomed to seeing. It was the stare of a woman I’d grown to admire, but now it was simply the stare of a desperate woman that was inches away from losing her job.
“I am the owner of this company, Miss Brown. And I have fired people for much less,” I said.
“It was just my heel,” she said, snickering.
