Nanny Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Secret Baby Romance

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Nanny Wanted: A Virgin & Billionaire Secret Baby Romance Page 77

by Eva Luxe


  I smile at Garrett. I’m still hiding my belly. He has no clue. At least, I don’t think he does. Men are usually slow to grasp these things.

  He nods and replies, “Oh, okay. Not a problem. Carolina, why don’t you follow me back and I’ll take it back there?”

  Erin mutters, “You sure will.”

  She is very lucky that Garrett did not hear that or I would have cold-cocked her right there. Garrett pivots on his heels and walks back towards his office. I follow him.

  As we walk, he says, “Uh, it’s nice to see you. Quite unexpected, but lovely to see that you are well.”

  I wait until he is somewhat out of range, following a good distance behind him. I realize he has no clue about my pregnancy and I’m suddenly afraid of his reaction should he find out right here and now by seeing my baby bump.

  Mid-walk, he turns around as if I had said something. Well, I hadn’t obviously, and you could have heard a pin drop in the silence of his full recognition of me.

  I almost drop, myself. He doesn’t say anything. Nothing. He says nothing. His reaction, while in some ways a giant relief, also leaves me at a complete loss.

  I hand off the item quickly and make my way back to the front. Just as I turn, I catch hot-bod Gina out of the corner of my eye approaching his office. She had been the new hot chick who had started as a clerk that final week before it all blew up with me and I gave my resignation.

  So, I say nothing to her or her walking sweater of boobs. I avert my glance and simply walk. Garrett couldn’t have been more aloof.

  Maybe she is his “new girl.” After all, he acts as if he doesn’t know me. He is being so godawful formal. It’s off-putting. This is the same man that made me climax to the point of leaving my body. He knew me! He knew every inch of me. Indeed, he knows me—in the biblical sense. I don’t get it.

  As I walk away, I can feel him watching me. On second thought, maybe it is Gina watching me leave. I had always thought she felt threatened. Who knows? I am not about to look back to verify it either.

  Does Garrett think it’s someone else’s? Still, would he not even ask? Or at least congratulate me? Damn hormones …

  I can feel myself beginning to cry. I press the elevator to try and escape quickly while Erin is on a call, but she waves me to stop, stop! So, I wait begrudgingly.

  I need her to hurry. I don’t know what I had expected. The fairytale ending? I don’t know at all, but this feels very, very painful. I just want to run. How could he not even care? I fight my emotional self as I often do, but not it feels like I’m wrestling with two sides of myself.

  Of course, he doesn’t care. You were nothing but an office romance. You were a notch on the peg. Did you really think this would be a different encounter after the way it ended?

  But he did care. I know it. I felt it.

  Erin interrupts my brain battle. She hands me a tissue, which kind of floorsme because I didn’t know I was so obviously emotional.

  “Thanks. I can’t really take Benadryl in this condition, ya know… So, yeah, my eyes are pretty watery from those fuppin’ allergies.”

  Now I’m beginning to cry. Who am I kidding?

  “It’s okay, girl. It’s only me.” Then she whispers, “What happened?”

  “Nothing. He didn’t even ask or care. Oh, God. What am I going to do?”

  “Maybe he can’t tell. I mean, you aren’t that big.”

  I turn to the side, and she almost snorts since from that perspective there isa second being protruding about two feet off my hips.

  “Right, okay, but that’s a side view. And he’s a guy. They are oblivious to everything. Look, maybe you should go back and tell him.”

  The elevator has come and gone by now. I hit the button again hard and say, “No. I am not going to do that. He could not have been more aloof toward me.”

  The doors open. I smile at Erinand just before they close over my face I say, “Tell him to tell Gina I say ‘hi’.”

  And then I leave the office once again, this time for good.

  As the elevator makes its way down slowly, it does occur to me that he might have assumed it was someone else’s baby. Perhaps a random one night stand or even my ex-husband’s. But then I just shrug that thought off. It isn’t even rational, not even rational at all. Still, he could have asked.

  If it looks like a duck, it is a duck. I was trying to make his actions reasonable, and they just aren’t. He simply doesn’t care to know— whatever the case is— and that is devastating. All I can think about is burying my feelings in a bowl of ice cream. Then the self-destructive “me” shows up to have a conversation.

  Forget him! How could I have been so stupid? What was I thinking? He must have never really wanted to be with me at all. How ridiculous to think I was anyone different than any of his many conquests.

  Suddenly, that type of debate with my emotional self is exactly what I need. The silent demons in my head are now making me much happier about it all with this “screw him” approach.

  Then it hits me. Conclusively, I am glad I hadn’t told him about the baby. Maybe Gina and Garrett are hot and heavy.

  Great, let her have him. I know there is no one on the planet who made him that hard, so let her fake-tittied-self have him. Look, girl, I know him. He’s told me many times, he hates that fake look. So, Ms. Gina, you will only be another notch.

  As the doors open, I don’t realize I was speaking aloud until I say “bitch” and the mother and teen girl getting onto the elevator shoot me looks—the mother’s, stern, the girl’s, confused and in awe.

  Good, I think, maybe that girl will think twice about getting knocked up by her boss.

  I smirk at her and walk toward the parking lot, but not before I let out a tiny belch. What a grand day it has been, and this involuntary bodily function just tops it off.

  As I walk to my car, the saner side emerges with my lunch from earlier.

  Why had I been so hard on him? Even if he wasn’t the love of my life, maybe just using me for a little office fun, that could be okay. I was using him as well. Neither of us knew a baby would be the result.

  Should I expect him to suddenly be responsible and caring? It’s silly.

  This time, the debate in my head isn’t working so well to cheer me up.

  For some unknown reason, my heart is broken. Shattered into a kaleidoscope of a hundred lifetimes of pieces, it has broken into thousands of irreplaceable shards, all of which I leave on the parking lot floor this evening before I’m to embark on pre maternity leave.

  As I open my car door, I don’t even bother to wipe the tears from my eyes. They are puddling up too fast. Simply put, I can’t contain the heartbreak and the utter aloneness I felt at this moment.

  Chapter 32 – Carolina

  Friday and Saturday pass. It’s official: I’m on an early maternity leave. My firm offered that option as part of its super sweet benefits package to pregnant women who want to rest up during their last few months of pregnancy.

  I didn’t need to, but I wanted to take an extended leave of absence. I thought that this would be the perfect way to do it.

  Martha Grecco is coming to visit. It is something I have so looking forward to. Some of my family are also coming to visit. It will be exciting.

  I just don’t know how I am going to get over the fact that this will indeed be me and only me raising this child. As I watch the little chimes that hang over the crib in the new nursery, I can’t take it anymore. I call Erin.

  “Hey. So, I am sorry that I left you so abruptly the other day. It’s just been incredibly difficult— an annihilation of sorts.”

  I grab a few grapes off the fruit bowl on my counter and stuff them in my mouth as I continue my rant.

  “It wasn’t you. It was everything else. My feelings, his lack of caring, his aloof attitude, Gina-the-bod, my severe case of heartburn…”

  “Carolina, Carolina. No, stop. Look, first of all, what? It’s me. We’re cool. And second, I’ve been meanin
g to call you. Garrett has come out to the reception area almost hourly since Friday with these weird stream of consciousness thoughts regarding you.”

  My heart leaps despite my brain telling it to settle down.

  “I mostly ignored it because I told you, I’ve always thought he was carrying a torch,” she continues. “But then he said something like, ‘Carolina. Did you know? I mean did you know?’ Of course, I looked at him blankly. And then he added, ‘that she was pregnant? I mean did you know that already? So strange. She must be married or in love or maybe back with her ex.’”

  I hold my breath as Erin continues.

  “I responded, ‘Sir, are you asking me that? Because I don’t know. That’s simply too personal.’ He said, ‘No, no, of course not. But she is what? Four or five months, yes?’ And again, I rebutted, ‘Well maybe something like that. I mean close. She carries well. Who knows, really?’ And he pressed, ‘Well, she certainly can’t be more than five months. My sister was a walking blimp at seven months.’ Of course, I said, ‘That’s not sexist or anything,’ but he ignored me and said, ‘So yes, I am sure she is about four months. Well, good then. I mean, good for her. She’s a lovely girl, lovely.’”

  Finally, I blurt out to Erin, “Lovely? Oh, he wasn’t calling me lovely when his cock was in my mouth.”

  “Cari, please. Some decorum, darling, please.”

  “Sorry. It’s the hormones. Well then, he knows, I guess.”

  “Sure, he knows, but you are missing the point, as you often do. He is obsessed. He did nothing but talk about you all of Friday. And, I have to say, there was a moment when he seemed concerned if you were indeed farther along—which, if I go there and address that pink elephant in the room, no disrespect to your state of roundness —would make it his! You might reconsider your lie of omission.”

  “Oh, Lord. You are such a soap opera. He’s not. He is such a self-absorbed cretin, he would never think it was his. It’s okay. I’m not teary anymore.”

  “Fine. I think you are painting him with a broad brush of ‘every other guy’ and a side of souped-up raging hormonal imbalance. But have it your way. I still say, the man has fallen and he can’t get up, and you could be the only one to retrieve the poor boy’s shattered heart, but all right.”

  I snicker to myself at the shattered heart concept and then answer politely, “I love you, Erin. I need to take a nap. We’ll talk in the morning, and I will keep you posted.”

  Chapter 33 – Carolina

  At the law firm on a blustery Tuesday, days after the fall of my heart, Erin holds it down for me as the true friend I need her to be. She had called me all day Monday and reported the goings-on with Garrett. At one point, she had me convinced that he might indeed have fallen in love with me.

  I want it. I have to admit it. It is so bad that I can feel my heart beat just recalling seeing him again after so many months. My stomach throbs with anticipation, as all the sexual feelings that I’d once felt come rushing back, even in my advanced state of child carrying.

  All weekend after seeing him, I would find myself fantasizing about his touch— how he touched me, where— or the way he smelled. It is the perfect scent of a man. Every time, I’d inhale with complete rapture and then open my eyes to the reality of a baby bump.

  Somehow, though, it would all flood back. I’d recall the way we couldn’t resist the pull of each other, the thick chemistry that had him throwing me up against a door one night several months earlier— pre-baby— while we worked late. It was the hottest I had ever felt about any man, so hot that I could call it up at will in my memory, and it would feel like it was happening in the here and now.

  But on this cold rainy morning, even with the recollection of the heat of Garrett taking me in his arms, his smell, his thrust up against my body so present for me, it all seems eerily far away now. Not that it has lessened in intensity at all. If anything, it is more powerful.

  Maybe now it has given way to real feelings in places, but it still burns hot. I’m not sure how the change was showing up. I just want him. The thought of him is ubiquitous as I recline, hoping that the literal fog of the day and the fog that covers me will lift.

  Then, later in the morning, Erin calls me, quite panicked.

  “Carolina, it’s me. I can’t talk long, but he has made some sort of decision about you, I think.”

  I grunt.

  “No, stop, I seriously know it. It seems the partners are thrilled about him and honestly, Cari, and don’t just shrug this off, I think it’s because he isn’t dating anyone else. All he does is talk about you and—”

  Suddenly, she drops the receiver onto the desk but doesn’t hang up. I can hear most of the sounds in the background. Just then, I hear Garrett walk up…

  “Oh, hello, Garrett. Can I help you?”

  “Did you need to finish your call? I can wait.”

  “Uh, my call? No, not at all. It was my sister. She’s always bothering me about her son. He’s needy. Not sure why she seeks out my advice. I tell her I’m working, but family, for cripes sake, they just can’t seem to meet my expectations you know…”

  “Okay, I don’t need all that,” I hear Garrett say. “I simply wasn’t sure if you needed to finish the call.”

  “Right, and that would be a firm ‘no,’ Garrett, I do not need to finish the call. By the way congratulations on—”

  Just then, I can hear the door being knocked open and a lot of people coming into the office.

  An old geezer hollers, “Garrett, Garrett my boy, we always knew you had it in you.”

  There are sounds that sound like people slaping him on the shoulder.

  “You did it my boy.”

  Erin grumbles under her breath, “As I was saying, congratulations on the deal.”

  The geezer— it has to be Garrett’s dad, Lester— barks, “So, how does it feel? The new branch has one fine co-managing partner. Garrett, you ought to be proud. It was a long haul, but you have truly shown your grit and your worth.”

  Garrett grumbles, “I didn’t know I was being tested.”

  I can hear his oh so familiar voice answering them.

  “Well, thanks gentlemen but I, uh, I’m off to a big meeting. The work never stops. So, we’ll celebrate some other time.”

  Erin’s voice sounds frantic, which is rare.

  “I’m checking the computer, sir,” she says.

  “Erin, can you get me the address please?”

  “The address, sir? Yes…”

  “The Abbott Firm? Wasn’t it on Carolina street?

  I hear Garrett and I fall back on my bed. Is he talking about seeing me? It couldn’t be, even though it sounds like some kind of code, to pretend he’s talking about an address when really he’s mentioning my name. And honestly, the voices are kind of muffled. I start to frantically text Katie.

  I can hear duck sounds croaking in the background, and I know they are from Erin’s cell phone that is undoubtedly lying on the desk. My text signals. She must turn her phone off quickly— we’re not supposed to use cell phones in the office— because they stop.

  Suddenly, it all dawns on me. Erin must have caught on to Garrett’s cryptic code at the same time I did, and I can picture her rolling her eyes at the ridiculousness of this “covert” code in front of the partners. After all, they all know my name. I’m sure Erin thinks it’s silly and that Garrett’s cover is just abominable, but she obliges him anyway.

  “Lead and University,” she says, giving him the crossroads of my townhouse. “I’ll text you while you are in route.”

  “Thanks, Erin. You’re the best. I’ve got to be off to my meeting now, at this other firm. Goodbye, gentlemen.”

  Just as he says that, I hear the receiver slam down, and all the voices go silent while I uselessly yell, “Erin, Erin is that me? Is it me he is talking about?”

  Nothing. Now in a complete state of largeness— my pregnant girth is overwhelming, at least to me— and utter terror, the thought that he might be headi
ng my way is all too all encompassing.

  I start running around the house in a panic. And there it is finally. If the birth isn’t going to be a stark reality check, this is. I can no longer deny what I’ve been desperately trying to bury or the reality of the conversation that needs to take place.

  Garrett is the father, and he deserves to know that. Moreover, I have been lying to myself about the deep nature of my feelings for this gentle soul. Is he a player? Yes.

  Many times, I have wondered how I could have succumbed to such weak come-ons and one-line innuendoes. But the truth is, we had a deep connection. He is a loving person with some real damage, something I can relate to, certainly. And he is finding his own worth. Been there.

  I want to hug him and say, “Yes, Garrett, this beautiful mistake happened.”

  But when you’re walking around with a giant basketball for a stomach, everything just becomes that much more awkward and complicated. Nausea and fear are welling up within me, in that order.

  I sit at the foot of my bed, inhaling deeply so that I can center myself. I will tell him. I will tell him!

  I had decided that I should make it abundantly clear that I would not expect anything from him— no child support, no emotional support. If I was to tell him, that would have to be the qualifying story.

  I shake my head in disbelief. How did I get here? Well, besides the obvious? How had it come to this?

  Every time I’d make the decision to approach this practically, my heart would break a little more. The truth is staring me in the face. I want more. My heart wishes we could be together, but I’m not about to compromise my integrity.

  Awaiting what seemed like the longest hour of my life, I run the shower water. A hot shower is all I can do right now to soothe my advanced state of grief and pregnancy. I figure it should be at least thirty minutes before Garrett arrives.

  And then I go even further with the conversation in my head. Who said I have to let him in my home? As the hot water runs over my face, I can no longer discern the tears from the shower spray. That’s a good thing.

 

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