Little Secrets--The Baby Merger

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Kirk paused for a moment and considered the talk he’d had with Orson last night. Orson had continued to express his approval of Kirk marrying Sally. He was old-fashioned enough to want to see his grandchild born in wedlock, but he’d cautioned Kirk that while Sally appeared to be soft and gentle, she had a core of steel and a determined independence that didn’t waver once she had her mind made up on anything.

  He was heartened her father saw that in her but wondered if Orson had ever expressed any admiration for those traits to Sally’s face. It might have gone some way toward helping her beyond her phobia if she realized that her father wasn’t waiting for her to fail in everything she did—he was actually waiting for her to succeed. Of course, maybe she knew that all along. Maybe that was, in itself, as much of a yoke around her slender shoulders as anything else.

  He felt a buzz of excitement at the idea of being married to Sally, of being a couple. Of waking to her each morning, of spending free time together and looking forward to the birth of their child. His son or daughter’s life would be so vastly different from his own. And his wife wouldn’t experience any of the suffering his father had put his mother through. Sally would never have to fear a fist raised against her in frustration or anger, and his child would grow up secure in the knowledge that their father was there for them every step of the way. There’d be no trade-off. No coercion. There would be love and stability and all the things Kirk had dreamed of as he’d made his plans for his future all those years ago.

  A sound at his door made him look up. As if thinking about Sally had caused her to materialize, there she was. Kirk felt a now-familiar buzz of excitement as he saw her standing there. He’d seen Sally wear many different faces and in today’s choice of a black tailored pantsuit with a pale gray patterned blouse underneath, she looked very serious indeed. As he rose and walked around his desk to greet her, he wondered if she wore one of those slinky camisoles beneath the blouse. His hands itched to find out.

  “Good morning,” he said, bending to kiss her.

  She accepted his greeting but withdrew from his embrace quickly.

  “Kirk, have you got some time to talk?” she said without preamble.

  “Sure, for you, always.”

  He gestured for her to take a seat and he took the guest chair angled next to hers. As he did so, he studied her face carefully—searching for any telltale signs of tiredness or strain. She was a hard worker, harder than many here, and she needed reminders every now and then to put her needs before the needs of the company.

  “I missed you over the weekend,” he said.

  She’d made it clear to him on Friday that she’d wanted space—time to think about them—so he’d given it to her. Now he wondered if that had been the right move. Her expression was hard to read as she looked up at him, the pupils in her eyes flaring briefly at his words. Did her body clench on a tug of desire the way his did right now? Had she spent the weekend reliving their lovemaking on Thursday night? She averted her gaze and shifted in her seat.

  “What did you need to talk about?” he coaxed.

  “I’ve reached a decision about your proposal.”

  He felt a burst of anticipation. “When can we start making plans?”

  “I don’t want to marry you.”

  What? “I see,” he said slowly.

  But he didn’t see at all. When they’d come to the office together on Friday morning, it had felt so right, so natural. As if they’d been together forever and would be in the future, too. He searched her face for some indication of what she was thinking and watched as she moistened her lips and swallowed a couple of times, as if her mouth was suddenly dry. He got up and poured a glass of water from the decanter on his desk and passed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said, taking a brief sip and putting the glass back down on his desk. “I didn’t see the point in keeping you waiting on my answer. So, if there’s nothing else we need to discuss, I’ll get to work.”

  She got up from the chair and started for the door.

  “Hold on a minute.”

  She froze midturn. “Yes?”

  “I thought we were a little closer than that. Can you at least tell me why? Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”

  “Since the first time you asked me, I’ve thought of little else. We don’t live in the Dark Ages. Having a baby together is not enough reason to marry. We can coparent just as effectively while living our separate lives. I don’t see why this—” her hand settled briefly on her lower belly “—should change anything.”

  Her voice grew tighter with each word. If he didn’t know better, he’d have thought she was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack. But didn’t that only happen when she had to speak to a group? Unless, of course, she was so emotionally wrought by the idea of turning him down that she was working herself up.

  “Take a breath, Sally,” he urged her.

  “I’m fine,” she said testily. “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. Look, I knew it wouldn’t be easy to tell you my decision, and I suspected you wouldn’t be happy about it. I just would like you to respect my choice and let us move on.”

  “You’re right, I’m not happy about it,” he said, trying to rein in his frustration and disappointment. “I didn’t just ask you to marry me for convenience’s sake, or because of how things look. I want to be a daily, active part of my son or daughter’s life. I want to ensure that he or she doesn’t miss out on the bond between father and child the way I missed out with my own father.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, and he saw her chest rise and fall on a deep breath. When she spoke, she sounded calm, but he could see the tension in her eyes and etched around her mouth.

  “We can work to make sure that our kid knows we’re always going to both be there for them. But that doesn’t mean we have to get married or even live together—a shared custody arrangement will work perfectly well in our situation, just as it does for people all over the world. Seriously, Kirk, being married is no guarantee of a happy home when the two people involved don’t love one another—it isn’t even a guarantee when they do!”

  Her voice rose on the last sentence, and he watched as she visibly paused to drag in a breath and assume a calmer attitude. “Look, I understand how you feel, but remember, you are not your father. You’re not a drug addict. You’re not going to let down this child, or any other child you might have in the future. It’s not in your nature. I believe you’ll be a good father, and I’m happy for you to be fully involved in your child’s life. I just don’t want to marry you. Please, will you respect my decision?”

  There was a quiver in her voice that betrayed her rigid posture. If he was a lesser type of man, he’d push her now, try to persuade her otherwise. Use all the ammunition he could think of to try to get her to change her mind. But despite the desire to do so, he realized that if he pushed her too hard, he’d probably only succeed in pushing her away for good. He clenched his hands and then forced himself to relax, unfurling his fingers one by one. Decent men didn’t give in to emotion like this. Decent men didn’t bully or threaten so they could get their way.

  “I do respect your decision,” Kirk said heavily. “But I would beg you not to close the door on the idea entirely. Please allow me the opportunity to try to get you to change your mind.”

  “No. Please don’t.” Her voice was firm again and she was very much back in control. “In fact, I think it would be best if we confine our interactions to work-related matters only.”

  “You can’t be serious. What about the baby?”

  He couldn’t help himself. The words just escaped. Was she truly closing the door on everything between them? Everything they’d shared?

  “I will keep you apprised of my ob-gyn appointments and of course you can come along with me to those, but everything else—” she waved her hands in front
of her “—stops now.”

  Kirk felt a muscle working at the side of his jaw, and he slowly counted to ten, forcing himself to relax. Then he nodded.

  “If that’s what you want.”

  “It is. Thank you.”

  He stood there, overwhelmed by disappointment and frustration as she walked away. This wasn’t how he’d imagined this panning out at all. Sometimes, it seemed that no matter how well you planned things, it all just fell apart anyway.

  * * *

  By the time she got home, Sally couldn’t remember how she’d gotten through her workday. From the moment she’d left Kirk’s office, it seemed that everyone had wanted a piece of her and her time. The first of the new hybrid cars for the fleet were ready for pickup, and she’d had to coordinate the coverage with the managers involved and the PR team so when the next company newsletter went out it did so with the appropriate fanfare. There had been no point in making a media announcement. Not when DuBecTec had already stolen the wind from their sails.

  Sally slumped down on her sofa, weariness pulling at every part of her body. All she wanted to do right now was take a nap. In fact, a nap sounded like a great idea, she decided as she swung her feet up onto the sofa and leaned back against the pillows she had stacked at one end. She’d no sooner closed her eyes than her cell phone rang. With a groan she struggled upright and dug her phone out of her handbag.

  Kirk’s number showed across her screen. She debated rejecting the call but then sighed and accepted it.

  “Hello?”

  “I just wanted to give you a heads-up. The media have gotten wind of the fact that you’re pregnant, and that it’s my baby.”

  All weariness fled in an instant. “What? How? Who?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out,” he said grimly. “But I wanted you to be prepared.”

  “But we agreed not to tell anyone. I’m not even showing yet. How could something like this have happened?”

  Was this some ploy of Kirk’s to try to get her to agree to marry him after all?

  “The only other person we told is your father and I doubt he’s responsible, but you can rest assured that I will be asking him.”

  With a promise to get back to her the moment he had any further news, and an admonition to screen her phone calls to avoid being badgered by the tabloid press, he severed the call.

  Sally stood where she was, trapped in her worst nightmare. Now it didn’t matter what she did anymore. Everyone at work would know. There’d be sly looks and innuendo and, no doubt, outright questions, as well. She’d hoped to have time to manage the situation. After all, she was still getting used to the whole idea herself.

  Over the last few weeks, whoever it was that had been leaking information had held back. Oh, sure, the company had still faced some media criticism. There’d been the occasional aspersion about her father’s illness in the media—the rhetorical questions about whether or not HTT’s dynamic leader would remain as much of a power broker as he’d been in the past—but with Kirk’s strong hand at the tiller and his no-nonsense leadership style while her father returned to full strength, those questions had faded as quickly as they’d arisen. But this was a personal attack against her and against her right to privacy. She felt violated and sick to her stomach.

  She had to do something. But what? Attempting to discover who their problem was by using logic hadn’t worked. So what did that leave? Her mind reached for something that she felt she should know, but everything came up blank.

  Her landline began to ring. No one she knew actually used it. Even her dad used her cell number. She took a look at the caller ID but didn’t recognize the number and switched the phone through to her voice mail.

  Sally went to take a shower and change for an early night. She was no sooner out of the bathroom than the doorman buzzed from downstairs. Apparently there was a TV crew from a local morning show wanting to speak to her. Sally shook her head in disbelief. Aside from the time when she’d almost been kidnapped as a child, she’d only rarely been deemed newsworthy. After all, it was hardly as if she held the same kind of profile as her friend Angel, and Orson had actively avoided letting his family be exposed to the limelight of what he called pseudo celebrity. “I’d rather our family be judged on our achievements and what we do for others than by whose clothes we wear or what we were seen doing,” he always said.

  With a few tersely chosen words, Sally asked the doorman to ensure that she wasn’t disturbed by the TV team or by anyone else not on her visitor list. She walked over to her windows and looked down at the parking lot. A second TV crew pulled into the lot. The onslaught had begun.

  Thirteen

  Thankfully, by the next morning, the gossip news focus had moved to the latest public celebrity meltdown and Sally’s pregnancy had been relegated to a footnote. That said, when she was ready to leave her apartment for work, she discovered there were two bodyguards assigned to her—one to remain with the car at all times, the other to escort her inside and ensure she wasn’t harassed by anyone. She was surprised to learn that the additional man had been ordered by Kirk, but she wasn’t about to complain. She had no wish to discover that her car had been bugged or to be ambushed by anyone with a microphone.

  She had planned to have lunch with Marilyn today and was looking forward to catching up with her. Everyone had been working so hard lately that it felt like forever since they’d had a good talk. The morning went by quickly, and the photo shoot for the new cars and their assigned drivers went according to plan. Sally was beginning to feel like she had a handle on things. At one o’clock she went down to the lobby to wait for Marilyn, who was just a few minutes late.

  Sally kissed the older woman on the cheek and gave her a warm smile when she arrived. Shadowed by Sally’s bodyguard, they walked a block to their favorite Italian restaurant for lunch and were shown to their regular table.

  “So, tell me,” Sally asked after the waiter had poured their water and given them menus to peruse. “How are things in the ivory tower?”

  Marilyn smiled a little at the moniker given to the executive floor at the top of the building. “Busy. Mr. Tanner has yet to appoint a PA of his own, which doubles my workload.”

  “Have you asked for an assistant? I’m sure Dad—”

  “Oh, I don’t want to worry your father about something as ridiculous as that. I do work a few extra hours now, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. I guess I should consider myself lucky. At an age when most of my peers are settling down and enjoying their grandchildren, at least I still have a rewarding career.”

  Did Sally imagine it, but was there a tinge of regret, or possibly even envy, in Marilyn’s tone?

  “I’m sure Dad wouldn’t see it as a worry, Marilyn—you know you can talk to him about anything. After all, you’ve worked for him for how long now?”

  Marilyn’s face softened. “Thirty years next week.”

  “Wow, that’s got to be some kind of record.”

  “Your father and I are the only original staff left. I keep telling him it’s time to pass the reins on to someone else. For him to slow down and actually enjoy the rest of his life. For us both to retire.” Her mouth firmed into a straight line, and her eyes grew hard. “But you know your father—work comes first, last and always with him. I would have thought with this latest business with the leaks to competitors, and then with his heart attack, that he would have learned his lesson about slowing down—but oh, no. Not him.”

  It was the first time Sally had heard bitterness in the other woman’s voice when talking about Orson, and it came as surprise. Normally Marilyn would stand no criticism of her boss from anyone. To hear it from her own lips was definitely something new. Maybe it was just the extra workload she had now, supporting two senior managers, that had put Marilyn in a sour mood. Even so, Sally felt she needed to defend her father. />
  “He’s always tried to make time for family—and HIT has always been his other baby. I don’t think you should be too harsh on him.”

  “You know I care about your father. I only want what’s best for him. It would be nice if he’d just stop focusing on work with that tunnel vision of his and look around him once in a while. Anyway, that brings me to something that’s been bothering me awhile. When were you going to tell me about the baby, Sally?”

  Sally swallowed uncomfortably. “I didn’t want to make a fuss at work, Marilyn. I’m sure you understand why, especially given how hard I’ve had to work to earn any respect there.”

  “But I’m not just anyone, am I? I thought we were closer than that.”

  “And we are,” Sally hastened to reassure her. Marilyn looked truly upset that she hadn’t been told, and, in hindsight, perhaps Sally should have included her in the news, but she’d had her reasons for wanting privacy, and they hadn’t changed. “I’m really sorry, Marilyn. I don’t know what else to say.”

  The older woman sniffed and reached in her handbag for a tissue and dabbed at her nose. “Apology accepted. Now, what are you having today? Your usual chicken fettuccine?”

  Sally hesitated before closing her menu. “Yes, I think so.”

  Marilyn placed their orders and the food was delivered soon after, but Sally found herself just toying with her fork and pushing pasta from one side of her plate to the other. It wasn’t that she wasn’t hungry, but she was still unsettled by how Marilyn had spoken about Orson. She’d never heard the other woman make a criticism of her father before. Ever. To hear it now had struck a discordant note, and it got her to wondering.

  Marilyn was privy to pretty much everything that went over Orson’s desk. Given her current disenchantment, could she be the leak Kirk and Orson were looking for? She was the last person anyone would suspect, given her long service and well-documented loyalty to Orson. Was it even possible that she’d do something so potentially damaging to the company? How on earth would she benefit from something like that?