Filthy SEAL

by Amy Brent

  I got up, collected my coat and my briefcase and locked my office door. There was a light still on, coming from one of the other offices on the floor. Someone else was working late. When I got closer I realized it was Megan's new office that still had a light burning in it.

  This spelled trouble. I was already in a bad place with her - I couldn't afford to sleep with her again and I didn't know how well I would be able to control myself if she made a move on me the same way she had last time. She wasn't only seductive and beautiful but her success in the company added to her attractiveness. I tip-toed past the door, peeking in.

  The office was empty, thank God. If I hurried I could get out of the building before she came back from wherever she was and the chaos would be averted.

  The sound of someone throwing up pulled me up short. It wasn't uncommon for the models to make themselves sick but they didn't do it around where we could see it and this sounded almost desperate, the kind of retching that made you think the person was coughing up a lung.

  I took a step toward the bathroom. A moment later Megan appeared looking pasty and tired. My heart flipped a little. I tried to tell myself it was sympathy, not affection. It had to be.

  "Are you okay?"

  She flashed a watered down smile and walked toward her office. She wore a pencil skirt that hit her low on her thigh - quite a modest look for her, fit for the office. It looked spectacular on her. Her knees below the skirt line were red like she'd been kneeling on the floor for a while.

  I followed her to her office. It was my job to make sure she was okay, even if my motivation was a little skewed. No one had to know what but me. No one had to judge me by it more than I already judged myself.

  "Are you sure you're alright? Can I get you something?"

  She sat down at her desk and rubbed her hands down her face. When she looked up at me again her eyes were tired, like it was much more than just lack of sleep.

  "Really, Brian, I'm fine. You don't have to worry about me."

  If there was anything I'd learned through my divorce and all the women I'd dated it was that if a woman said she was fine, she probably wasn't. I turned and left the office, walking to the water cooler and filling a paper cup with water for her. I carried it back to her office and held it out to her over her desk.

  She looked at me, eyes uncertain before she took it. She drank a bit.

  "Why are you being nice?"

  Was this a trick question? I shrugged. "I just want to make sure you're alright."

  She chuckled without emotion. "Nice of you. I can't imagine what your motivation is."

  I sat down on the chair facing her desk where she received visitors. "Just because you did something I felt you shouldn't have doesn't mean I shouldn't care about your well being."

  "Because I'm your friend's little girl?" There was bitterness in her voice.

  I shook my head. "Because you're a person and no matter what the situation was we still slept together. That puts me in the bracket where I still care about your existence."

  She sighed and her lip trembled. Tears welled up in her eyes.

  "What is it?"

  She shook her head and looked down at the desk although through teary eyes like that I was sure she wasn't looking at anything.

  "I can't tell you."

  I took a deep breath. "I'm not going to tell your father if that's what you're worried about. I respect you as an individual. The fact that you're Tom's daughter is a coincidence. Inconvenient, but a coincidence nevertheless."

  She sobbed, a small, fragile sound.

  "Thanks, but I don't think this is something you can help me with."

  That sentence just made me want to help her that much more. There was something about a woman crying that awoke the protective primal male inside of me and that fact that it was Megan - delicate and young - that made it that much more.

  "Come on, try me. Maybe we can fix it. Maybe it isn't as bad as you think."

  She swallowed.

  "I'm pregnant."

  It felt like something sucked all the air out of the office and I couldn't breathe. My face must have shown it because her face closed.

  "Still, think it's not as bad as I think?"

  I opened my mouth to say something, couldn't find the words, closed it again.

  "And just before you ask if I've been whoring around, I haven't. The child is yours. I'm not expecting you to do anything about it, but I'm not a bad person for what we did together."

  She said it with defiance as if she was trying to justify it to herself, rather than me. As if she was trying to convince herself. The truth was, though, I hadn't for one second thought the baby was some other poor bastard's. A man could always hope, but the fact that she'd been a virgin when I'd met her told me everything about the kind of person she was.

  Chapter 7: Megan

  He asked me to dinner to talk about the baby. I was raw and vulnerable and I felt impossibly alone in the world. I agreed. The fact that he'd cared for long enough to find out what was wrong in the first place made me think that he wasn't a bad guy. Of course, I knew that he wasn't, but seeing a man through the eyes of a little girl versus the eyes of a woman that had gotten to know what adults do were two completely different things.

  The restaurant was nice. The kind of place that made sense for Brian. I'd been to it once or twice for business lunches or dinners. Tonight the decor and the music and the food did nothing to cheer me up. The place reminded me of what I would lose as soon as the company found out about the baby. I was four months along and I wouldn't be able to hide it with loose shirts forever. The music annoyed me. The food made me feel sick even when I just looked at the menu. Why did they call it morning sickness when it hit you any moment of the day?

  "Brian, it's very nice of you to take me out to talk about this and to care for me when I was throwing up, but this really isn't your problem."

  I looked at him sitting opposite me at the table for two. He blinked.

  "It's my baby, Megan. Of course, it's my problem."

  I shook my head. "I should have been clever about sex. I wasn't. I didn't think that I would fall pregnant right away." I felt like an idiot saying it but I forced myself to do it anyway. There was no reason to keep anything from him now that he knew the truth. "Not sleeping with people for so long has made me naive about these things. I got a rude awakening now. It's still not up to you to do something about it."

  Brian took a sip from his wine glass. I had water in mine. When I'd fallen pregnant I was horrified that I wouldn't be able to drown my sorrows in alcohol. I was so sick all the time now, throwing up without any good reason at all, the thought of alcohol was almost alien.

  "I'm not going to leave you hanging. I'll pay for whatever you need to take care of this. You just tell me when you need the money and I'll pay it into whatever account."

  The salad I'd ordered arrived. It was plain, a few leaves, a piece of tomato or cucumber here and there. Brian had ordered a steak with cheese sauce. The smell made my stomach turn. Brian was willing to pay for me to take care of the pregnancy. Not the baby.

  "Brian..." I looked at my salad, not willing to look at him. "I'm not going to have an abortion. I'm going to keep the baby."

  He was silent for long enough that I glanced up at him.

  "What are you going to tell your dad?"

  I was relieved he didn't challenge me on my reason for keeping the baby. I took a bite of lettuce and sat back in my chair My lower back was killing me. Joys of pregnancy.

  "He already knows. I told him it's an old college boyfriend's baby."

  "You protected me?"

  He sounded surprised. I nodded. I couldn't have ratted him out like that. He looked at me for a moment, admiration on his face. It was misplaced. He had nothing to admire me for.

  "Megan," he reached across the table and touched my hand. I pulled it away. "If you're having the baby I want to be a father to it. It's not right to let you go through it alone and for the child
to grow up with only one parent."

  I shook my head. "My dad will know, then."

  Brian sighed and nodded." He will, but that's something I'll have to live with."

  "You can't do that. What would that make him think of me? I can't tell him I seduced you, he'll be so disappointed. And you can't tell him it was your doing because I don't want you to take the fall for something you did. No, I'm having this baby alone, okay?"

  Brian shook his head. "You can't do this. You can't shut me out of the child's life. Let me be there for you. I have a legal right to."

  I was angry now. He was bullying me into a corner when I was still trying to figure out my life.

  "This is about legality now? Stupid of me to think you wanted to be there for me and the baby because you actually cared."

  "That's not what I mean and you know it. But I do have a right to be in the child's life."

  I looked at my salad. It suddenly looked so unappetizing. I pushed the plate back a little, feeling sick to my stomach. Again. Always.

  "I can't do this, Brian. I don't want to talk about it. I've made up my mind, I've set out my plans. I can do this alone. You're not going to risk your career for me."

  "Don't tell me what I will and won't do. You're having my baby and you're just a child yourself."

  That did it. My ears started ringing. Almost everything else had been okay but his condescension had pushed me over the edge. I put the napkin on my plate and got up.

  "Don't treat me like you're my dad."

  "Where are you going?"

  "Away."

  He sat back. I expected him to fight for me, expect me to stay. I was going to march right out the door if he did. I was just waiting for him to tell me what to do. I challenged him with my eyes, daring him to do it. He folded his arms over his chest.

  "Fine."

  Fine? Was he fine with me leaving? Was he just going to let me go? It sucked the wind right out of my sails and every argument I'd built up to throw at him fell on the floor. Hello, rejection. I turned around and walked away, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying or as effective if I wasn't wanted in the first place.

  Chapter 8: Brian

  It was time for the fall shoot. It had been two weeks since Megan and I had argued in the restaurant. We hadn't spoken to each other since. It wasn't just because we were still angry at each other but because the Fall shoot was one of the biggest events in our company and we were all running around without time to catch a breath, let alone talk about the future.

  Every time I saw her around the office we both had so much to do there wasn't time to talk, and you couldn't exactly throw in a comment about the weather in passing after the one we'd had in the restaurant.

  Now that I knew she was pregnant, though, I looked for the signs and found them everywhere. She wasn't glowing the way pregnant women usually did. She looked tired all the time, and I noticed how many times she ran to the bathroom. I didn't know what morning sickness was all about but it seemed like there was a lot more than just in the morning. And it wasn't stopping. I tried to work out how long it had been since we'd had sex.

  Four months? A little more? She was quite far along and not showing as much as I thought. She did wear baggy clothes, though, shirts that were loose, jackets that had a lot of embellishment now that it was colder. She hid it well.

  Except I could see the baby bump because I knew it was there.

  The shoot was crazy. We all stayed late for it. The floor where we held it was a large open space with the screen and camera and lights set up against the one wall. The rest of the place was divided into a dressing area for the models where they ripped off their clothes all the way down to the nude and got into the next outfit without blinking an eye.

  There were makeup stations where artists did what was necessary for the shoot, hair stylists that walked between models and a row of computers that worked on the photos that had already been taken and made sure that the schedule ran as seamless as possible considering what we were doing.

  It was chaos. I had created all of this.

  I stood to the side, watching the shoot. The models were comfortable in front of the camera, comfortable with nudity in front of others, comfortable with being painted and tugged on at every station before stepping in front of the lights again.

  I spotted Megan in the dressing area. She was trying to organize a line of models. She looked drawn and tired, with dark circles under her eyes. She walked like she was in pain and every now and then she put her hand on her lower back.

  Lisa, her boss, walked to her and she looked pissed. I knew from experience that Lisa was a tough woman to work for. Many people had tried it and quit, but you couldn't be soft in the fashion world and Lisa knew that.

  "What the hell is this?" she asked in a raised voice, looking at the clothes. Megan looked at her, confused, before turning her eyes to the clipboard on the floor at her feet. "This is not until those models there are done. You're screwing up the whole line."

  "I'm sorry, Lisa."

  "Don't tell me you're sorry. Don't get it wrong in the first place and save me a headache. God, I don't know what's wrong with you lately."

  I walked closer. Lisa was coming down hard on Megan. Of course, she didn't know the girl was pregnant, but still.

  "Is everything alright here?" I asked. Lisa looked irritated with my presence. Megan looked like a deer caught in headlights.

  "Everything's fine," Lisa said tightly.

  "Lighten up on her, will you?"

  She pulled a face. "Are you telling me how to do my job?"

  "I'm just asking you to lighten up on her."

  Lisa narrowed her eyes at me. Someone called her and she turned away. I looked at Megan.

  "Why don't you sit down for a bit, hand this over to someone else?"

  I expected her to agree, to thank me. Instead, she glared at me. The emotion was unexpected.

  "I don't need you to come to my rescue when something goes wrong."

  "I was just trying to help."

  She shook her head, pressing her fingers to her temple. "I don't need your help. I thought I made it quite clear - I don't need anything from you."

  I sighed. "Come on, Megan. This isn't necessary."

  "You know what isn't necessary? You trying to be the big boy in my life when I've been on top of everything without your help."

  I wanted to fight with her, to argue, to say what was on my mind. I wanted to tell her that she was completely out of line. The look on her face stopped me short. Her face was so pale I wasn't sure how she was still standing. Her eyes were glassy, her lips slightly parted and it looked like she was having trouble breathing. She tried to say something, but then her eyes rolled back and her knees gave way. She crumpled to the ground. I jumped forward and caught her, lowering her gently down.

  Chapter 9: Megan

  When I opened my eyes I wasn't looking at my ceiling at home. The room I was in was clinically white and a chemical smell pinched my nose. I turned my head and realized I was in the hospital.

  Brian sat on a chair, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair.

  "Brian?"

  When he looked up there were worry lines on his face but he looked relieved and then his eyes smiled at me. I knew that we'd been getting stuck lately and the last to interactions weren't friendly ones, but I was so happy to see him now. And I was relieved that he looked happy to see me, too. I shouldn't have felt that way, but I did.

  "What happened?" I put my hands on my belly, suddenly terrified that I was here because something was wrong with the baby.

  "The baby is fine," Brian said, his voice calm and gentle. "They did scans and checks and everything and the baby - a boy - is completely healthy."

  Relief washed through me and I sagged on the pillow. If something happened to the baby...

  "What happened?" I asked again.

  "You collapsed at the Fall shoot."

  I raised a hand to my head. "The shoot. Shit." Lisa had been so mad, God knew
if I still had a job after that.

  "Don't worry about that, I organized a replacement for you."

  "You did?"

  He nodded. "It pays to be the big boss. The doctor says you're overworked. You need to take it easy from now on. No more long hours for you."

  I shook my head. "I can't take it slower. I need the money." I had to take care of the baby somehow.

  "When are you going to understand that I'll help you? I'll be there for you. I've got this, and I have more than enough money to take care of you."

  I wanted to argue again, reject his offer, but the truth was that the idea of not having to worry was damn attractive right now. I had been a ball of tension since I'd found out I was pregnant. The idea that I would be able to relax for a change sounded heavenly.

  A doctor in a white coat walked in and looked at my chart before looking at me.

  "You gave us a scare, Miss Philips," he said. "But luckily everything is still going well. You just need to take it slow. I recommend bed rest. At least six hours a day."

  I sat up. "I can't!"

  He shook his head. "You're going to have to if you want to have this baby and stay healthy. Your job is too stressful and that's not good for you or for the baby at this point."

  My dad walked in through the door. "Oh, honey, you're awake. I was so worried."

  The doctor looked at my dad. "She's doing just fine. If it wasn't for the father bringing her in so quickly she might have been off worse."

  I looked at Brian. He looked at me. The tension grew. My dad laughed.

  "That's not the father!" He clapped Brian on the shoulder. "If he was the baby's father I would have to acquire a shotgun." He laughed. Brian laughed, too, but it was forced. I chuckled nervously. The doctor wasn't amused. A moment later he left.

  "How are you feeling?" my dad asked me.

  "I'm okay. I'm just tired."

  "She's had a bit of a spell, overworked herself, what with the pregnancy and all."

  Tom sat on the edge of the bed. The bed was narrow and felt trapped but I didn't ask him to move.

  "I guess you know now," he said to Brian. "I'm going to be a grandfather. I didn't want to say anything at the office... you know. These things can come across wrong."