by Mia Carson
“How about we get some dinner?” Ajay asked. “My treat.”
“I’m fine, Ajay,” she said, but he nudged her arm.
“You look like you need a drink, sis. Come on. The house needs to warm up, anyway.”
She nodded and said she was going to change first. As she slipped into a pair of jeans and a black sweater, redoing her hair into a tighter braid, she glanced around her tiny bedroom and the walls slowly closed in around her. This was supposed to be a step in the right direction. It was supposed to be her chance to start being a responsible adult and get on with her life. Instead, she was digging herself into an even deeper hole.
Right before she flipped off the light, the damn letters on her bed caught her eye and she frowned. There had been a number written at the bottom of one. Was having another man’s baby and not agreeing to marry him all that bad? She’d be taken care of, and, based on the letters, she’d be a part of her child’s life. A husband was not something she thought she could have anyway, for various reasons she had never told anyone except her foster parents and Ajay.
“Hey, you coming or what?”
“Yeah, sorry!” she yelled back, mulling over the idea. What was the harm in calling the guy to see what he was like? If the date of the last letter was any indication, he didn’t even know the woman was dead.
If nothing else, she’d at least inform him that the woman he’d picked to have his child was no longer available. He was owed that, if nothing else. Turning off her bedroom light, she decided when she got back that night she’d make up her mind about calling this Viktor Hartmann to see what type of man offered to hire a woman to have his baby.
Chapter 2
Steam warmed his face as Viktor stared out the windows of the one-story office building overlooking the lumber yard. He sipped the hot coffee, cursing when he burned his tongue and nearly spilled it down his front.
“She said it was hot,” Tim, his cousin, muttered from across the office.
“Course it’s hot, it’s coffee,” he grumbled and shot him a look. “Are the numbers good or not?”
Tim nodded as he tapped his pen on the desk. “Everything’s in order, as always. This quarter will be better than last. Think the new trucks helped out a lot.”
Viktor sipped carefully from his mug and watched those new trucks roll through the yard, loaded down with the morning haul. With winter just around the corner, harvest would slow down, so the more they could get accomplished before then, the better. He turned from the window, Tim’s worried frown catching his eye.
“What? And don’t sit there and act like I didn’t see it,” he warned. “Since you’ve had kids, you’ve turned into a terrible liar.”
“We’re just worried about you,” he said quietly.
“We? Who’s included in this ‘we?’” he asked tightly.
“Your family. Look, you’re almost thirty, Vik, and sooner or later, life is going to just pass you by—along with your second chance at a family. We know you want kids, so don’t try to tell me you don’t,” Tim said with a smirk. “You do better with mine, some days, than I do.”
Viktor laughed. “We all know you’re too much of a kid yourself. Hannah was crazy, thinking you were ready.”
His cousin laughed with him but didn’t get off topic. “You need to find someone who makes you happy.”
Scowling, Viktor shrugged one shoulder. “Who said I wasn’t happy?”
“You say as you angrily sip your coffee and glare at me,” Tim quipped. “Right, then.”
Viktor did not get up that morning prepared for another lecture about his life. He had been happy. Five years ago, he’d been floating on cloud nine with the woman he wanted to spend his life with. He’d been ready to settle down, have the big fancy wedding, and start a family. Having kids, being a dad… He’d looked forward to all of it until one night, everything crashed down around him. All his dreams had been torn to ribbons. For five years, he’d tried to pick up the pieces, but nothing worked and he was alone, watching the days pass, wondering if he would ever have what his cousins had. What his parents had enjoyed for so many years. Part of him was ready to accept his fate of never finding love.
The other matter, though… He’d hoped for a few months after he’d received an answer, but that, too, had gone silent.
“You should come over for dinner tonight,” Tim invited as he pushed back from his desk and stood. “Hannah’s making those fish tacos you like so damn much.”
“I’ll think about it,” Viktor said absently.
“And that is code for no. The kids would like to see you.”
Viktor tried to ignore how his chest clenched at the mention of kids and gulped his coffee to prevent speech. Tim gathered his papers and said he’d run them over to Viktor’s dad’s place, Jeremy Hartmann. The old man might say he was retired, but he still liked official monthly updates on how the family business of over one hundred and fifty years was holding up. For a while, it was touch-and-go, but Viktor convinced his dad to move the company into the future with better training and tools for their workers. So far, production was up as well as their profits.
Hartmann Logging Industries would be around for at least another thirty years as far as Viktor could tell. With him in charge and his cousins on his board, he had their future well in hand. The business future, anyway. Everything else was up in the air.
He set his coffee down on the desk Tim vacated and rolled up the sleeves on his red flannel shirt before he sat down and started on the part of the job he didn’t enjoy. Since he was fifteen, he had worked under his dad but spent most of his time out in the field, learning how to do every job his workers did. Over the years, he changed from a scrawny, awkward guy to one with broad shoulders and muscles he could boast he’d earned through actual work rather than slamming weights around in a gym. His cousins teased him that he fit the profile for a lumberjack instead of the rich, high society man he was, but Viktor didn’t care.
His dad enjoyed the suit and tie look. Viktor liked to get his hands dirty, dig in the mud with the guys, and do the job if one of his men called in sick. That was how a man earned loyalty from his employees, and it was how he stayed down to earth when he ran a multi-million-dollar business.
He had barely pulled up the logs from the previous day when his office phone rang. “Viktor Hartmann,” he said quickly.
“Vik! I’m at the store, and guess who I ran into?”
Viktor hung his head and gripped the phone tightly in his fist. “Mom, morning.”
“Morning. Did you hear me?” she shot out rapidly, and he could just picture her bouncing on her heels in excitement.
Her exuberant happiness was never a good sign. “Yes, I heard you. Who did you run into?” Please God, don’t say Mary, he thought bitterly of his ex.
“Abby! You know, that girl you dated in high school for a while. The sweet one with the blonde hair?” his mom chirped. “I adored her, you know. She was fantastic. She’s working in town. Isn’t that something? And you know what?”
“No, what?”
“She’s single! Wonderfully, attractively single. She’s a personal fitness trainer, and let me tell you, if I were a man, seeing her in those yoga pants—”
“Mom, for the love of God, do not finish that sentence,” he groaned. He hoped no one else in the store noticed Theresa Hartmann ogling some girl’s ass. It was bad enough everyone knew his mom was eccentric, to say the least. She didn’t need to add to talk by making a spectacle of herself. “Wait, did you talk to her?” he asked, horror filling him as he waited for her to answer. “Mom?”
“I might have mentioned that you moved back home after your extended trip six months ago,” she said lightly. “And that you were single. And available for dinner.”
Viktor cursed and rapped the receiver against his forehead, praying this was all a dream and his mother had not just invited some girl he’d dated over a decade ago for dinner to set him up. He knew she wanted grandkids as much as he wanted kids,
but this was too damn much.
“Mom, tell her I won’t be there,” he said finally, controlling his anger.
“But why not? You have nothing going on tonight,” she sputtered. “Vik, please… for your mother?”
“Mom, you promised you would stop setting me up with random women.”
“She’s not random. You knew her. That doesn’t count as random,” she argued.
He leaned back in his chair and glared at the ceiling, wondering if it would be considered a crime to lock his own mother away in some fancy resort far, far away from him and his lack of love-life. “We’ve been over this. I’m not interested in seeing anyone right now. Can we just drop it? Please?”
She sighed over-dramatically. “I just want you to settle down and find a wife, Vik. Is that too much to ask? It’s been five years. You had your fun gallivanting around the country being the playboy, but now, you’re back home. Time to move on and find a wife and not a sex buddy.”
He cringed hearing those words come out of her mouth. “I’m fine, really. I’m happy with where I’m at right now.” A lie—a big fat lie—but lying had become easier after the break-up when his parents wouldn’t stop hounding him night and day. “Now, can you please cancel that dinner with Abby? I'm pretty sure she doesn’t actually want to see me.”
“What do you mean? She was pretty happy when I mentioned it.”
“And did you happen to mention who else was going to be at dinner? Zach, maybe,” he said, naming one of his cousins who was only engaged and not married.
“Yes I did. We always have dinner together on Wednesday nights. Why?”
“She’s always had the hots for him.”
“But he’s engaged!”
Viktor laughed. “Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean a lot to some people.” His words stopped him cold, and his laughter died. “Doesn’t mean shit.”
“Oh, Vik. See, this is why you need to find another girl,” his mom insisted more gently. “You know your dad and I love you. We just don’t want you to have nothing but the company, alright? I’ll cancel the dinner with Abby, but if you don’t try to find someone soon, I can’t guarantee I won’t start hounding you again.”
“I know, Mom, love you too,” he said and hung up.
He leaned back in his chair, holding his head as he glared up at the ceiling tiles of the old office. Memories rose in his mind, and though he attempted to tamp them back down, they refused to go away. He’d come home from a long day in the forest helping take care of an emergency situation. He’d been covered in muck and grime, scratched up and exhausted, but they’d managed to save the equipment and not get themselves killed in the process. Several trees had fallen in the wrong direction and taken out a few of the trailers, but no one had been injured.
Viktor had dropped off his gear and tromped up the steps, ready to hold his fiancée and tell her he was home safely, but when he reached the top floor of the house, he heard laughter—male and female—coming from the bedroom. His feet had paused when his fiancée moaned in pleasure and a man's grunt was followed with the sounds of bodies smacking together.
Furious and praying he was wrong, he’d charged down the hall and thrown open the door to find Mary, his fiancée, and Todd, the man she said was just her best friend. They were wrapped up in each other, having passionate sex in the bed Viktor shared every night with Mary. Their clothes were scattered all over the room, and for a horrible few seconds, with Todd covering her body, neither noticed Viktor until he cursed and grabbed Todd by the neck, throwing him to the floor.
Her screams still echoed through his mind, and Viktor’s hands curled into fists as he remembered decking Todd and breaking the man’s nose. He’d dragged him down the stairs and chucked him out the front door, naked, before yelling for Mary to get the hell out of his house and his life. They’d been together for three years, were ready to get married and have kids, but she had cheated on him. She had threatened him the whole time he’d packed her things for her. He’d chucked her bags out the front door, and that had been the last time he saw her.
If he bumped into her now, it’d be too damn soon. Everyone thought after the breakup he’d go back to his playboy ways—a new girl every weekend, parties, living the crazy life—but all he’d wanted was to get away. Disappear, and that was exactly what he had done, though he let everyone assume he was behaving as he used to. Instead, he’d traveled the country and took some time to really figure out who he was so that when he returned home, he would be strong enough to keep his life going—alone. No strings. No relationships. Just him.
His phone rang again and, grumbling, he reached for it and picked it up without leaning his chair back up. “Viktor Hartmann—and Mom, if this is you again, you really need to lay off.”
“Uh… no, this isn’t your mom,” a woman’s voice said nervously on the other end.
Viktor let his chair shift down so fast he nearly slid out of it. “I’m sorry, that was highly inappropriate. It’s been a rough morning. How can I help you, ma’am?” You idiot! You see what you’re doing to yourself? No, correction, what your damn mom is doing to you?
“Right,” the woman said. “Maybe this is a bad time. I can call you back later if you want.”
“No. No, this is fine. What can I help you with? I’m sorry. I didn’t catch your name?” he asked, reaching for a pen and notepad.
She sucked in a deep breath, and he swore he heard her curse under her breath. “Listen, maybe I shouldn’t tell you my name yet. I was calling because I stumbled across some letters and thought I should call you.”
Viktor’s fingers fumbled and dropped the pen. “Letters?”
“Yes, letters… to Bridget? They’re about a baby,” she said hesitantly.
He ground his teeth, disbelief filling him, followed quickly by panic, and glanced out his office door. Thankfully, no one was around. “Who is this?”
The woman cursed again. “Look, I’ll tell you my name, but you have to bear with me here.”
“Those letters are confidential. How the hell did you get them?” he snapped. “Who are you? Where’s Bridget?”
“My name is Evelyn Turner,” the woman replied, just as snappishly. “I was supposed to be her roommate, but something happened and I… I’m calling to tell you… Damn, this is harder than I thought it would be.”
Viktor’s heart pounded. If someone knew about what he’d planned, he needed to know and make sure she kept it quiet before his family found out about it. “What are you trying to tell me, Ms. Turner?”
“Bridget… died in a car accident,” she said quietly. “I’m so sorry. I moved into her house and saw the mail. I didn’t mean to, but your letters… I’m sorry.”
The air went out of his lungs and he leaned back, the receiver almost falling from his hand before he caught it. “She… she’s dead? When did this happen?” How the hell did he not hear about it? Because no one knew what you two were up to, dumb-ass, he chided himself mentally. All the secrecy to try and get what he really wanted in his life, all that careful planning and plotting ruined. The woman—he hadn’t even had an opportunity to go to her damn funeral.
“About a month ago,” she told him quietly. “I saw the date on the last letter and had a feeling you didn’t know. I’m really sorry, Mr. Hartmann.”
Vaguely, he heard her words, but he was too busy trying to figure out what to do now. He spent months talking to Bridget about what he wanted and how it would work. After a lot of time negotiating, they had finally come to an arrangement she was happy with and one he could live with. But suddenly, the letters had stopped and he didn’t hear from her at all. She hadn’t given him an address, just a P.O. Box to send the letters to, and though they’d met in person, it was always outside of town in case anyone saw them together. He didn’t want to make it official until all the kinks were worked out and the contract signed.
Now he knew why he hadn’t heard back from her. She didn’t have a change of heart, she died, and this woman knew far too m
uch about his life.
“Have you told or shown anyone else those letters?” he asked hotly.
“You know, I called you to let you know this woman was dead,” Evelyn spat. “You could be a little nicer to me about it, and no, I did not tell anyone about what you were planning.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right and I’m sorry, but those were very private letters. No one else can know what was in them.”
“Actually,” she said, and he frowned at the phone. “Since I did read all of them and after the accident that happened… no, never mind, I can’t do it. This is in really bad taste.”
“Wait,” he said slowly, “are you saying you want to take the contract in Bridget’s place?”
“See? It sounds even worse when you say it. Never mind, forget I asked. Don’t worry, your letters will go straight into a fire and you won’t hear from me again,” she said quickly.
“Wait! Wait a second,” he yelled. “Please, don’t hang up.”
“Why?”
“Listen, I understand it might seem strange to you to ask, but I’m in a bit of a situation, to be honest,” he admitted, scratching at his black beard. “Are you serious about your interest?”
“I think so,” she said slowly.
Viktor nodded, thinking over how this might play out. He wouldn’t usually be so blunt, but the woman had taken the time to call him and let him know Bridget was dead and even felt bad about taking advantage of what happened. Her voice made his brow furrow, and he tapped his fingers against the desk—like an itch that needed to be scratched. If nothing else, he wanted to see this woman face to face. What was the worst that could happen?
“I would like to meet with you and discuss you possibly taking this opportunity,” he said before he could change his mind. “When would you be available to meet me?”
“Really? Just like that?”
