by Jo Leigh
He nodded and held out his hand. Alan, Jeff’s assistant, took it, while his boss looked right at Jessica. He eyed her, indicating Nick, and she smiled at him, then mouthed, “It’s okay.”
Jeff’s gaze went to the booties in her hand. “Who’s having a baby?”
Before Jessica could say anything, Nick said, “We are. Hasn’t she told you?”
The silence in the room was thunderous. Jessica stared at Jeff, then Alan, then glared at Nick. His eyes widened with disbelief. “You didn’t tell them?”
“No, Nick. Not yet.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Jeff said. “You’re pregnant?”
Jessica nodded. “Yep.”
“And you didn’t tell us?” He was shouting now, and Jessica kind of shrunk in her chair.
Alan, who still had Nick’s hand in his, finally came out of his daze. “I simply do not believe this. Jess, you slay me. You absolutely slay me. Keeping this a secret? From us? Does Paul know? I have to tell Paul.”
“Paul does not know, and neither does Stan,” Jessica said as she reached for her phone. She dialed Stan’s extension and asked him to come in, and to bring Paul.
“So when did this happen?” Jeff asked. “I thought you two broke up in Rome?”
Nick waved that away as he came back to stand next to her. “It was a silly misunderstanding. Unimportant. Now we have the baby to think about.”
Jeff continued to stare at her, one brow raised ominously. “You and I are going to have a talk later, young lady.”
She nodded. “I know. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before.”
“I’m going to forgive you,” he said. “But only because I’m a goddamned sweetheart.”
She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Yes, you are.”
“Wow, Jess,” Alan said, shaking his head as he lifted the package from her lap. “How far along are you?”
This wasn’t going at all the way she’d planned. She’d wanted to wait, at least past the first trimester. So much could happen in the next couple of months. First Nick finds out, then the guys. Wasn’t anything going to go her way?
“A month,” Nick said. “A little more than that.”
“What’s up?”
Jessica turned to see Stan and Paul come in. Stan, her gruff guardian, was the one she was worried about. He was the architect for the firm, and he kept himself a little separate from the others. Oh, they were all pretty close, but she’d always known that Stan rarely confided in anyone but her. She hadn’t wanted him to find out this way.
“Booties?”
Her gaze moved to Paul, who was gazing at the tiny slippers in wonder.
“Guess who’s knocked up?” Alan said.
“And who didn’t think it was important enough to share with her best friends,” Jeff added.
“Jessie?” Paul’s surprise made his voice crack a little, but Jessica’s gaze stayed on Stan. He looked at her hard, and she nodded, then gave him an apologetic smile.
“It’s true. Not the part that Jeff said. I was going to tell you all, but...”
“But you didn’t,” Stan said, finishing for her.
“Who’s the father?” Paul asked, staring at Nick. They hadn’t met on Nick’s last visit.
“I’m Nick Carlucci,” Nick said, holding out his hand to Paul. “Proud papa.”
“Nick from Rome? But I thought you two were history.”
“Update,” Alan said. “It was a misunderstanding. Now everything’s just peachy.”
“Well, all I can say is it’s a good thing you didn’t wait any longer to tell us. It’s going to take every day we have to get a nursery together for you.” Jeff walked over to the couch and flung himself down. “I don’t suppose you’ll move to a bigger place, will you?”
“No, of course not,” Jessica said. “I like where I live, and we don’t need to do much. The baby can stay in the second bedroom.”
“And where will you move your desk? The file cabinets? No, sweet cheeks. Not a chance. We’re going to have to change everything.”
“You know,” Alan said, “if we knocked out that wall between the second bedroom and the living room, we could make the space work.” He grabbed a yellow pad and pen from her desk and went to sit next to Jeff.
Nick looked at Jessica, questioningly.
“It’s no use talking to them. I knew they would be this way. They’re going to do up a nursery whether I like it or not. I won’t let them knock down any walls, but we don’t have to tell them that yet.”
“I see,” he said.
Jessica doubted it. By now, all four guys were huddled at the couch, each tossing suggestions into the pot. Alan sketched furiously, and Paul took notes. Only Stan hesitated for a moment to look at her.
“They’re my friends,” Jessica said softly to Nick. “My family.”
“Speaking of family...” Nick spied a chair in the corner and pulled it next to her. He reached over and turned her chair until they were facing each other. “I told Mama. And Theresa.”
“Oh, dear.”
“No, they were thrilled. Mama cried.”
“That’s good?”
“That’s good. It will be her first grandchild. She thought it would never happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t tell you how much she wanted this. She went to the church to light candles and thank St. Joseph.”
“I’m glad. But you know, it’s a little soon for everyone to be so excited. I mean, what if something happens?”
“Nothing will happen. I have very strong genes.” He reached over and touched her stomach. “This one is perfect. I know. A perfect boy.”
“Oh?”
He shrugged. “Or girl. But I don’t think so. Mama will tell us for sure.”
“She will?”
“She knows these things. Each of my cousins, when she rubbed the bellies, she knew.”
“Nick, I don’t know when I’m going to go back to Rome. I have work, and new expenses—”
“Rome? She’s coming here. With Theresa.”
“What?”
“Of course! This is her first grandchild. And she’s never met you.”
Jessica’s stomach constricted, but good. Nick’s mother? Here? His sister? She looked at the couch, listening as her friends argued over the nursery. It was all too much. Too fast. None of this was in her plans. None of this was her life.
“I don’t care, it’s not going to work,” Jeff said, so loudly, Jessica had to look. “She has to move and that’s final.”
Nick looked, too. “What’s that? What’s not going to work?” He got up and walked over to the boys.
“Her apartment is too small,” Alan said. “She’d have to give up her office altogether, and even then, there wouldn’t be enough room. For heaven’s sake, she lives in a shoe box.”
Nick looked over at the yellow pad but gave that up quickly. “Of course she’ll move,” he said, switching his attention to Paul’s notes. “We’ll find a house. Not an apartment. A big house with plenty of room for the baby.”
Jessica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. What the hell was happening here? This was her baby. Her life. Nick’s mother was coming, and now he wanted her to move? Saying it as if she had no vote?
“I know this fabulous house,” Paul said. “Five blocks from the beach. Great guest quarters. Maid’s room, too. It’s pricey, but worth every dime. If I had the money, I’d snap it up in a heartbeat.”
“There’s that big one up on Sunset, too,” Stan said. “I could really do something with that.”
“You don’t have a lot of time,” Jeff said. “If you want us to get everything ready in eight months.”
“Okay.” Nick nodded.
“Wait just a dam minute,” Jessica said, getting madder by the moment.
No one turned. Not one of them.
“We’ll look at houses soon,” Nick said. “But first, we have to find a church.”
“A church?” Jessica said. “Would you please listen? Hello! The one hav
ing the baby is talking.”
“What kind?” Alan asked, ignoring her.
“Catholic, of course. For the wedding.”
Chapter Seven
Jessica couldn’t move. Or speak. Or breathe. Had she just heard Nick say he wanted to many her? No. He hadn’t said that. He’d said they were going to be married. No asking. No proposal. No discussion. Just bingo. Done deal. Finito.
She didn’t think it was a joke. None of the guys were laughing. They hadn’t even paused in their conversation. As if it was no biggie. As if it was a given.
Was she insane? Hadn’t she just been bemoaning the fact that Nick hadn’t said anything about marriage? So why did she feel so outraged? So manipulated?
“Nick?” He didn’t hear her. “Nick!”
He turned to her with a smile. “Yes, carissima?”
“Can I speak to you?”
He glanced once more at Paul’s list, then came back over to her desk. “Are you all right?”
“No, I’m not.”
His smile vanished, replaced with a genuine look of concern, which didn’t make her feel better. She didn’t believe the concern was for her. Just for the mother of his child.
“What is it? Are you feeling sick again? Can I get you something?”
“You can explain what you were talking about a minute ago.”
“The house? I want you to be happy, Jessica. To have a beautiful home. With a wonderful nursery. I myself remember my nursery at the villa. I had a—” his brows came together for a moment as if he were searching for the right word “—nanny there. So kind. So loving. We’ll find little Nicolo a nanny like that, eh?”
“Little Nicolo?”
He laughed. “We can discuss the name.”
“That’s not all we need to discuss.”
“What do you mean?”
“The house. The nanny. The nursery. The wedding.”
“Yes?”
Was he really this dense? He honestly looked confused. Jessica shook her head in amazement. “Didn’t it occur to you that I might have an opinion about those things? That you might have asked me before you made all those decisions about my life?”
“You don’t want a new house?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why not?”
“Nick, that’s not the point. I don’t want you waltzing in here making decisions for me. Just because I’m having your kid, doesn’t mean I’m handing over my life.”
His right brow rose. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Smugly.
Jessica suddenly realized the room was quiet. She looked over at the couch. All four men had grown still and were watching her and Nick as if they were on an episode of “The Guiding Light.”
“Don’t you people have work to do?” she said.
“Yeah, but this is more interesting,” Jeff said, winking at her.
“Don’t you wink at me. You get out of here, right now. Take your pads and your drawings and scram. Got it?”
Paul stood up immediately. But then, he was new. The rest of them took their own sweet time. The looks Jeff and Alan gave Nick didn’t escape her. Conspiratorial. Deprecating. Bemused. She wanted to line them all up in a row and slap them one at a time. Well, all except Stan. Although he had been a willing participant in this mess, he wasn’t sharing the joke with the others.
Matter of fact, he walked over to her, right between her and Nick, and took hold of her shoulders. “You stick to your guns, Jess, you hear me?”
“I’m trying. But I’m slightly outnumbered.”
He smiled. “You know they love you. They only want what’s best.”
“They know that, then? What’s best for me?”
He didn’t say anything for a minute. Then he gave her a crooked smile. “Maybe not. But the color scheme will work, no matter what.”
“That’s a big comfort, thanks.”
He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. She smiled, grateful he’d diffused some of her anger so she could think a little more rationally. Then he let her go and turned to Nick.
“You be good to her, you hear me?”
Nick nodded. “I give you my word.”
“Okay, then.” Stan jerked his head at the guys. “Let’s go.”
Everyone left the office, all of them looking back at least once at the soap opera that was becoming Jessica’s life. Finally, she and Nick were alone.
“These friends of yours,” Nick said. “They care a great deal about you.”
“Yes, they do. Although they sometimes forget that I’m a grown woman. That I have a mind of my own, and I’m perfectly capable of handling my own life.”
“So,” he said, taking her arm and leading her to the couch. “You want to discuss? We’ll discuss.”
“Thank you,” she said. She sat down, and he sat right next to her.
He took her hand in his, brought it to his lips and kissed her palm gently. It didn’t seem to matter that she was still angry as hell, the little gesture made her stomach flutter. That wasn’t fair. She extracted her hand and put it in her lap.
“Tell me what’s wrong, cara mia.”
“What’s wrong is that this is all going too fast.”
“What?”
“Everything. The baby. You. Your mother.”
“You’re worried about Mama? She’s going to love you. Trust me.”
“I’m not worried about that. Well, yes I am, but that’s not it. Nick, I don’t know what I want. Not yet. It’s too soon. I’m still getting used to the idea that I’m really pregnant.”
“Yes, I see.”
“I don’t think you do. I don’t think you’ve thought this through. We don’t really even know each other, and you’re talking about houses and weddings.”
“You don’t want the baby to have a father?”
She heard the slight shock in his tone. It shouldn’t have surprised her, but it did. After all, he was Italian. And even though he was as worldly and debonair a man as she’d ever met, he was still old-fashioned. “The baby has a father. Whether we’re married or not.”
Nick looked at her with real hurt in his eyes. “My family is old, Jessica. Proud. We have traditions and duties. The villa, it goes back hundreds of years. Back to before the Trevi was built. Back to the time of the Medicis. My son has that history in his blood.”
“I’m not trying to take that away, Nick. But there’s more to consider than traditions.”
“What could be more important than that?”
“A stable home. A mother and father who’ll be there for him when he needs them.”
“But of course,” he said. “That’s why I want to get you a house here, in America. So he’ll have his home here, and in Rome. That’s why we need to marry. So he’ll have his mama and papa. Family. Tradition. Isn’t that what you want, too?”
“Yes, I want those things, but I don’t want to be railroaded.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I count. It means we have to talk about things that will impact my life before you go making unilateral decisions.”
He nodded. “I just want what’s best for you, mi amore.”
“For me? Or for your baby?”
Again, he gave her that bewildered look. Again, she realized they were practically strangers. “Nick, we need to slow things down. We need to get to know each other. This is all happening too fast.”
He took her hand in his. “I already know you, my Jessica. You are the woman on my balcony. In her torn stockings.”
A quick lump formed in her throat. “I was only that woman for a moment, Nick. I don’t know if I can be her ever again.”
NICK SIPPED HIS cappuccino and stared at the yellow pad on the table in front of him. So far, he’d written and scratched out three cons. First, that he and Jessica didn’t know each other well. Second, that he was a pilot. Third, that he hadn’t planned on getting married.
After careful consideration of each con, he’d turned it to a pro. That he and Jessica
were nearly strangers wasn’t a bad thing. He had instincts about people, and since the first moment he’d met her, he’d realized she was something special. Hadn’t he come all the way to America to apologize to her? They’d get to know each other, to care for each other. It wasn’t so many years ago that all marriages started off with strangers. His own grandparents’ marriage had been arranged, and that had turned out very happily.
His being a pilot wasn’t a negative, either. He’d certainly never overstay his welcome. Jessica wouldn’t grow bored of him, and each time he saw her it would be like discovering her all over again. No, that was a plus.
As for him not wanting to wed, well, that had been a little harder to cross out. Granted, it wasn’t a real marriage, not like Theresa’s would be, but it would change things for both him and Jessica. When he came to America, he would have a home, not a hotel. He would have a child. He would be responsible for two more lives. And there wouldn’t be any more American women. Or any women.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure he could do it. Being with one woman was new territory for him. It wasn’t as if he’d been with hundreds of women. But he’d never been with just one. Not for any length of time. Certainly not for a lifetime.
Frankly, he was scared. But he had a duty, and he would perform that duty to the best of his ability. He owed that to his child and his future wife. But being a husband? A father? That prospect had always seemed so far in the future. Good for his cousins, not for him. Didn’t they all say how much they envied his life-style? His freedom? And here he was, giving it away.
He looked at the pad again. These lists Jessica liked so much...he didn’t see it. He took the top sheet, tore it off and crumpled it into a ball. Sometimes it was better just to do something, not think about it so much.
Nick noticed the waitress heading his way. He also noticed her smile. She was young, early twenties, blond, pretty, a little too thin. She walked toward him, swaying her hips, seeking his gaze. It was a familiar dance, one he knew the steps to very well. If circumstances had been different, he would have smiled back.
“Can I get you something else?” the waitress asked, her voice a smoky invitation.
