Accept My Baby: A Billionaire BWWM Single Parent Pregnancy Romance

by Fielding, J. A.

  As they drove through the streets, she could not help but notice that the street they were driving down was a little too familiar. It took a while but eventually, it all became clear to her. They were driving towards his house. She turned to look at him and drummed her fingers on the camera case.

  “Are we on the road to your place?” she asked and he nodded. “But I thought you were taking me to the best restaurant in Turin.”

  “I am,” he said. “And believe me when I tell you that no one makes a better linguine than I do. Plus I also made my grandmother’s spicy carrot cake last night. With the frosting all perfectly set, I’m sure it will be a great treat for dessert.”

  She smiled and looked at him as he pulled up in front of his house. She could not help but wonder why a single man would need such a big place. What she didn’t realize was that she had actually wondered out loud.

  “Because Italy is my home and this is where my heart is.” He looked outside his window at his well manicured lawn. “And this is where I want my family to call home.”

  “But your family already calls this place home,” she said. He laughed and got out of the car. She stepped out before he could walk around to help her out. He was a perfect gentleman that way. He took her hand and slowly led her towards the front door.

  “When I say my family, I do not mean my parents or my brother. I am talking about my own family. My wife and kids...maybe a dog too,” he said.

  “I’m sorry but you don’t look like a family person,” she said as he opened the door.

  “Whoa, judgmental much?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be judgmental or anything...it’s just that after the party the other night, I checked you out and all I saw was that you are a billionaire with a weakness for models and socialites.”

  He took her camera bag and led her out to the kitchen, his humongous five star kitchen. She would not have been surprised if she saw it on Martha Stewart or something.

  “Let’s just say that I am yet to find someone who gets me,” he said as she sat down at the counter. “But I am not giving up.”

  “How does a man like you not get the perfect woman? You are the full package,” she said and suddenly felt her cheeks flush when she realized what she had just said. She had basically just flat out paid him a compliment that also came out as flirtatious.

  “Why thank you,” he said, a smile on his face.

  He walked to his wine rack and came back with two bottles of wine.

  “So, what’s your fancy? Red or white?”

  “I don’t know. You are the chef. How about you pick,” she said.

  “I don’t really adhere to the traditional pairings but they are both great bottles. I mean, 1980 was a great year.” He looked at the two bottles separately and then placed the red wine on the counter. “I guess red it is.”

  She smiled and watched him pour two glasses of wine.

  “So, Mr. Imperioli,” she started as he put on an apron. “What exactly should I know about you? Now that I already know you are a man who loves throwing glamorous parties and live like like a king.”

  “I would love to tell you but I think I like the whole ladies first thing. Tell me about you first and then maybe I can tell you about me.”

  “And I like the first ask, first answered rule,” she said as he got a pack of ground beef from the fridge.

  “I think you kind of tweaked the language on that rule a little bit,” he said smiling.

  “What can I say?” she asked shrugging. “I kind of have a way with words.”

  He laughed and took another sip of his wine before he put the ground beef in a bowl.

  “Alright,” he started. “You already know that my name in Rafael Imperioli. Middle name Vicente.”

  “Wow, you are going to start from the very beginning, aren’t you?”

  “Isn’t that the best way to get started? Okay, fine. I’ll cut right to the good stuff.”

  “That sounds perfect,” she said as she sipped on her wine.

  “So, I guess on paper, the world thinks I am so perfect, right?” he asked and she nodded. “Well, it is far from it.”

  She forced a laugh and shook her head.

  “To be quite honest, I don’t disagree with you.”

  “I wouldn’t blame you. It seems the world has this idea of who I am...or at least who I am supposed to be.”

  “I blame the poor excuse for journalism the paparazzi pedal. It is and I am trying to be very polite here, pure shit,” Amanda pointed out matter of factly.

  “That was you being polite?” he asked, laughing. “I would hate to be on your bad side.”

  She watched as he got some vegetables from the fridge.

  “What? It is true. All they do is use their credentials to invade people’s personal space and post terrible private photos and videos.”

  “I guess,” he said in a soft voice. “I have been a victim a few too many times. I mean I am not safe in any country.”

  “I think that has a lot to do with the friendship you forged with Paris Hilton back when she was still a little wild fire,” she said and he frowned.

  “That was a low moment, wasn’t it?” he said and she smiled. “So, I am apparent heir to the Imperioli business empire, something that I didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t want.”

  “Are you crazy? Anyone would kill to have the opportunity you have,” she said and he forced out a laugh.

  “The opportunity forced on me, you mean...I mean, I rarely have any chance to make my own decisions, even personal ones.”

  “What does that even mean?” she asked as he put a pot of water on one of the stove burners.

  “The perfect picture that is my family, has been carefully cultivated by my parents. I mean nothing ever happens without them approving every single aspect of even the simplest of things. Like the color of the vase.” He grabbed a chopping board and began chopping up the vegetables.

  “Need some help?” she asked and he smiled at her.

  “My restaurant, my service. You just stay there and look pretty. You could be my muse.”

  “Muse? You are painting now?”

  “Food is as much an art as any other artistic form.”

  “This is awesome. I could get used to this,” she said in a soft voice.

  “I wouldn’t mind it if you did,” Rafael said looking up from the chopping board. “You always do that when you are a little uncomfortable...maybe when you are blushing,” he said after a long silence.

  “Do what?”

  “Bite your lower lip.”

  She inadvertently bit her lower lip again and then pushed a strand of hair behind her right ear.

  “You tend to do that too,” he pointed out and she got off the chair at the counter.

  “Okay. I think I will just let you cook since you won’t let me help and we can have this little talk later,” she said as she began walking towards the living room. “I’m just hoping you have a decent movie collection.”

  Chapter 7

  Rafael was right. His linguine was amazing! Perhaps better than any authentic Italian restaurant food she had ever had...and she’d had quite the number of ‘authentic’ Italian food. After dinner, she could see it in his eyes that he did not want to take her back home. And it was not like she wanted to leave either. She was having such a good time. Rafael had put on some soft music in the background and carried their dessert to the living room. He had just poured himself another glass of wine when he sat back down next to her and she smiled at him.

  “You know,” she started as she put her glass on the table and got her slice of cake. “You never really finished telling me about yourself.”

  He looked at her and a smile played on his lips.

  “You seem to be very keen on my life,” he pointed out and she shrugged.

  “Is that so bad?”

  “No, not at all. But, what about you? What’s the story behind this pretty face?”

  She toyed with the frosting on h
er carrot cake and shook her head.

  “I asked first so I guess before I can come clean about myself, I need to know more about you.”

  Rafael took a long deep breath.

  “Alright. Where was I?” he asked.

  “Well, last time I checked I was trying to fully wrap my mind around the fact that your family is controlling...at least I think that it was getting to you or something of the sort”

  “Oh trust me, it is getting to me.” He looked at her and realized that he was not really getting through to her. He needed to say everything in black and white. “So here goes,” he started as he took a long deep breath. “As far as my parents are concerned, the family name is some kind of dynasty. Like a royal family or something like that and to make sure that the ‘crown jewels’ are protected, they have to hand pick every single thing and person that becomes a part of the family.

  “Everyone and everything?” she asked, a little confused and he nodded.

  “We usually don’t get to do anything we want...I mean, right from when we were kids, our extra-curricular activities, our friends or...girlfriends...” his voice trailed off.

  “Girlfriends?” she echoed and he nodded.

  “The reason I rebel and go on rampage with all these models and socialites...it is all to show my mother that she does not control me.”

  She took a bite of her cake and shook her head.

  “Surely, it can’t be that bad. Can it?” she asked and he forced out a laugh.

  “You have no idea. Right now, I’m actually on the outs with my mother because of the whole not taking over the business.”

  “You are not taking over the business?” she asked, a little surprised.

  “I have always been a little reserved when it comes to the family business. I mean, I am a strong believer in entrepreneurship and taking over a business that has been running for the better part of the century is not really my idea of helping out the universe.”

  “So, what does that mean?” she asked. “I mean, I know you are a trust fund baby and all but I know that people like your family gets you to the corner by cutting you off.”

  “Trust fund baby?” he asked, smiling as he showed off those perfect pearly whites. “Really?”

  “What? Am I wrong?” she asked. “Are you trying to tell me a family that considers themselves a dynasty does not have a trust fund for their kids?”

  “Well, look at you.” He leaned back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you moonlight as a behavioral analyst or something?”

  “You never know,” she said, smiling.

  “So, yes. I was a trust fund baby.”

  “Was?” she asked and he nodded.

  “When they found out that I invested some money in the American oil industry, they were pissed. So, they decided to cut me off because they thought that if they did I would go back to whatever future it was that they had carved out for me.”

  “And...” she was really anxious.

  “Unfortunately for them, I had been siphoning my trust fund off into an offshore account...I suppose I always had better money management skills than my brother so by the time they decided to cut me off, I was already making profits in the millions of dollars.”

  “Well, good for you,” she said, smiling and he nodded.

  “But, it doesn’t stop there.”

  She raised an eyebrow over the other.

  “There’s more?” she asked and he nodded.

  “So much more,” he said.

  “Okay, color me intrigued.”

  “My parents actually went ahead and crossed the damn threshold by choosing a woman for me to marry.”

  Amanda was practically choking. She put a hand on her chest as she coughed hard.

  “You are kidding me, right?” she asked and he shook his head.

  “No, I am telling the truth,” he said as he looked at her concerned. She as still coughing. “Should I get you some water or something?” he asked and she shook her head.

  “Oh my God...I think your mother could very possibly be worse than a Middle Age queen,” she said as he took a bite of his cake.

  “Worse...but that’s about me. What about you?”

  “I am not sure I can match all that...I mean my life is not perfect or anything but everything you’ve said makes my life sound ten more levels of perfect.”

  “Oh come on,” Rafael said. “You have made me literally pour my heart out for you. That has never happened before.”

  “It’s just I don’t have anything that matches being ‘matched up’ or so to speak.”

  “Well, we all have a story, don’t we?” Rafael asked and she nodded.

  “Yeah, we all have one. Sometimes a little less dramatic than what you have just said,” she pointed out.

  Rafael looked into her eyes and sighed. He could see that there was something on her mind. The smile she had earlier on had faded and the twinkle in her eyes was gone. He felt like he was seeing her for the first time again. Like he had at the party.

  “I know there is a story but I feel like you are struggling with the decision to tell it to me. So, let me start you off easy, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Alright. I know you are American. I know that much. So, let’s start there. The move to Turin, it’s not just a work assignment, is it?”

  She shook her head.

  “And I am guessing it is not just a vacation either.”

  “No, it isn’t,” she said.

  “Now, we’re getting somewhere,” Rafael said, smiling.

  “Okay my story is not as great as yours, I have to warn you,” she said and he nodded.

  “Okay.”

  “I’m not seeing anyone writing a book or making a lifetime movie about it any time soon or anything of the sort.”

  “I am not looking for a Lifetime adaptation, Amanda. I just want to know who you are,” he said and she nodded.

  “Alright,” she started as she put the side plate with her cake on the coffee table. “I was in a relationship with a man for a long time. Years, to be specific,” she started.

  “How many years are we talking about here?” he asked and she forced out a smile.

  “Eight years,” she said.

  “That’s a long time.”

  Amanda nodded.

  “I know...everyone kept asking me why we were not making everything official ...after all, we did buy a house together.”

  “Well, now I am intrigued,” Rafael said, resting his elbow on the couch headrest. “Why didn’t you?”

  She took a long deep breath.

  “I don’t really know. I guess at the back of my mind I always wondered if I was the one with reservations or if it was just my insecurities playing with my emotions.”

  She subconsciously began tugging at the hem of her dress.

  “I think it was always there. The doubt, the constant fear that I would not live up to his expectations or something of the sort,” she said as she looked up. “At first it was just the usual: working late and the like but soon enough everything changed. We no longer spent as much time as we used to together and I kept on blaming it on the fact that he was a busy guy. I mean hedge fund management is a big deal and it can take a lot out of you.”

  “You are making excuses for him, aren’t you?” Rafael asked and she shook her head.

  She did not know what she was doing. She did not understand why she was saying the things she was saying. But it was like she just could not help it.

  “I think I am,” she said after a long silence.

  “Well, you shouldn’t,” Rafael said.

  She smiled and shook her head. She did not mean to. But it just happened. For some crazy reason, that was exactly what was happening.

  “What did he do?” he asked. “Did he hurt you? Did he beat you?”

  “He did hurt me but not physically. He was having an affair with my friend and next door neighbor for the better part of two years.”

  Raf
ael was trying to react in any way but for some reason, he couldn’t. All he could do was look at her, his mouth slightly agape. She looked at him and forced out a laugh.

  “I know this is ridiculously cliche.”

  “It might be but that does not mean that it is not terrible.” He stretched his hand out and took her hand in his. “I’m so sorry you had to go through this.”

  She looked into his eyes and shrugged.

  “I’m not. It exposed the bastard that I had held in so much regard for the asshole he truly is and I finally got to get away from him...I mean, there is the small factor of how I am going to get out of the house co-ownership...” her voice trailed off when she noticed the way he was looking at her.

  It was not the same way he had been looking at her for the past twenty minutes they had shared their life story. There was something more about how he was looking at her. It was like he was seeing through her. Seeing her for the first time. “What is it?” she asked in a whisper.

  “So, what you have just told me in so many words is that you are a free agent right now,” he said and she nodded.

  “You know for a European man, you are very well versed in American metaphoric talk,” she said, trying hard to ignore the fact that he was slowly getting closer to her.

  “Maybe that is because I spent the better part of my academic life in America but that is besides the point.” He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “I have been trying to get the perfect excuse to kiss you and you just gave me the golden ticket.”

  “My painful break-up?” she asked and he shook his head.

  “Just your break-up,” he said in a soft voice. “Now I can do this.”

  He lowered his head and gently kissed her. Her eyes were closed and his were too. And as far as she was concerned, his kiss was unlike anything she had ever felt. A moan escaped her throat as she kissed him, his tongue slowly being forced into her mouth and she was only too happy to receive it.

  “How could anyone ever cheat on you?” he whispered when he finally pulled away. He gently put his hand on her thigh and slowly worked it up making her shiver. “You are...breathtaking,” he said in a whisper.