‘Okay.’ I nod. Another gulp of wine. He’s really stringing this out.
He sighs heavily, his shoulders hunching over, hands in his pockets. ‘The truth is that I’m a total workaholic. I haven’t dated in years and I’m not even sure I remember how to anymore.’
I laugh. Finally something he says that I can understand. ‘To be honest, I absolutely hate dating. It’s all so awkward, I haven’t been on one in over a year.’
He swipes his hand through his thick hair. ‘Yeah, well I stupidly thought I’d be able to, but yesterday just proved to me that I can’t. You see, I’ll always choose work over you, over anyone. My job is important and I’ll just end up letting you down.’
Just as I thought; the ‘kind let down’. At least he’s choosing to be nice about it. He could have just never called me again.
‘That’s totally fine,’ I say, sounding more chilled than I feel as I toe my boots back on.
He stands in front of me. ‘But…’
I look up at him, his expression pensive. My chest is heaving all of a sudden, the room unbearably hot. His dark brown eyes draw me in, hypnotising me. I need to leave. Need to get out of here before I do something stupid, like stand on my tippy toes and kiss him.
‘But…’ he continues, swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. ‘There is just something about you.’ He tucks some of my wayward hair behind my ear.
God, if anyone else said this shit to me I’d laugh in their face. It’s such an obvious line. He’s telling me he doesn’t want me but fancies a quick bunk up before I go.
If I had any self-respect I’d tell him to get lost. Only it turns out I don’t. It turns out he’s too good looking to think properly in front of.
One night with a sexual god like him would keep my bedtime fantasies going for months. Allowing myself to feel wanted, sexy even, well it can’t be a bad thing. Can it? And when was the last time I did something truly crazy without thinking it through?
I press up onto my toes before I can reason with myself. I hover close to his lips, so close his minty breath is mingling with mine, while I look into his eyes wondering if he wants this half as much as I do. He’s warring with himself, just like I’ve been.
‘Fuck it,’ he growls.
He slams his lips down onto mine. I almost fall back from the force, but he steadies me by putting his gigantic hands through my hair, fisting to the point of pain.
Four Weeks Later - Friday 29th May
Charlotte
I’ve checked and re-checked but the results are right in front of me. My period isn’t just being fashionably late. That amazing night of raw powerful sex, of letting myself be controlled by that beast of a man… well it’s resulted in a positive pregnancy test. I don’t even want to think of the word baby yet. Not until I’ve decided what to do.
I mean, shit. Only I could get pregnant from a one-night stand. Plus, I’m sure we used condoms. Maybe one split? God, or maybe I’m just the unlucky person who is that 0.01% unlucky.
I look around at the dingy bathroom in this house I share with three other women. There’s definitely damp growing by the window. The landlord keeps telling me it’s just condensation from the crappy windows, but I know better. I can’t have a baby in this madhouse.
I’ll have to move home to either Mum or Dad’s—doesn’t matter who I choose the other one will still be pissed off and complain. Divorced parents that hate each other sucks, plus the fact that both of them live miles away in Devon.
What will I do for money once I move there? I suppose I could survive on maternity leave for a while but then I’d have to return to work. It’s not like Devon is well known for its fashion houses. I’ll have to get some boring regular job that I hate. That’s if I can even land one.
Maybe I’ll be better off claiming benefits. God, just the thought of scrimping by fills me with horror.
I have no idea what I’m going to do. Each and every option sounds impossible. Maybe I should consider an abortion. It’s just… well, something deep within me already knows that I wouldn’t be able to go through with it. I’m all for every woman’s choice, but now that it’s my choice I don’t think I can.
For now I’m just going to ignore it. Bury my head in the sand and pretend this isn’t happening. I have time to decide. Plenty of time.
Two Months Later - Monday 27th July
Arthur
I know it’s stupid but I still think of her occasionally. What can I say? It was a night to remember. While she was awkward, with her little waves and offbeat vibe, she was a firecracker in bed. Pawing greedily at my clothes, letting me take her over the breakfast bar, against the wall… in the bed. Damn it was hot. Her body was phenomenal, her skin as soft as silk.
Maybe I just think its hotter because I know it was only one night with no strings. I didn’t have the pressure of a future to hold me back.
Eloise passes me in the corridor.
‘Eloise!’ I call after her, far too eager. Way to play it cool, Arthur. ‘Have you heard from Charlotte?’
She frowns. ‘My best friend? Of course I’ve heard from her. Why?’
I’m not sure if Charlotte would have told her about us. She knows we had that one date, but more than that I don’t know.
‘Just wondered how she was keeping.’
‘Yeah, she’s good.’ More frowning. ‘She’s actually got a job interview here today.’
A stone drops in my stomach. Here? She wants to work here?
‘Really? What department?’
‘PA to Roger Fielding.’
This makes no sense. I scrunch my face as I process it through.
‘I thought she worked in fashion?’
She sighs. ‘She did but they never actually let her have the job she wanted. I’ve been telling her forever to leave.’
‘So what made her change her mind?’
Dammit, the woman intrigues me.
She bites her bottom lip. ‘Erm… a change in circumstances, you could say. She’s realised she has to get serious.’
My heart hammers inside my chest while my head tries to tell itself that she probably hasn’t given me a second thought. Gorgeous women like that aren’t short of men wanting to wine and dine them.
‘What time is the interview? I might pop over and wish her luck.’
She rolls her eyes. ‘She doesn’t need distracting. She’s nervous enough as it is.’
The thought of her awkward, all nervous and twitchy, does strange things to my dick.
‘Okay.’
I’m already emailing my PA to find out the time and meeting room.
Charlotte
‘So you speak French and Spanish. Any other languages?’ the short tubby man in his early fifties asks.
Oh damn, I knew they’d need more languages. He’s the Permanent Secretary of the Foreign Office for Christ’s sakes. I should never have applied for this job. He’s gonna laugh me out of the room. Especially when he finds out I can only ask where the nearest hostel is in each language.
‘And I see you have a degree in fashion.’ He looks down his nose at me, his spectacles on a string falling down. ‘Tell me how you think that could help you in this job.’
‘Err… well,’ I gulp, ‘despite doing a fashion degree and originally wanting to be a designer, I fell into a PA position at a fashion house. It’s that role has given me the skills to do this job.’
He frowns, unconvinced. ‘It’s a very fast paced environment. Very stressful. Do you think you’d be able to manage that?’
I smile confidently. ‘I’ve survived the last eight years in an industry known for being cut throat, and during fashion week, well, I’m sure it doesn’t mean a lot to you, but it’s as stressful as you can get.’
He chews on his lips thoughtfully.
‘I’m good at meeting deadlines, communicating and getting stuck in. Yes, I might not have experience in the Public sector, but at least you know this isn’t a steppingstone for me. I want a steady job
for the next ten years.’
Lies. All lies.
He rubs his chin thoughtfully. ‘Hmm. I’ve seen a few candidates that I know would want to leave within the year.’
I don’t tell him that I’ll also be leaving. To have a bloody baby. I still shudder at the very idea.
Eloise told me to just shut up and act surprised if and when I get the job. I found out the maternity package at my current job is basically statutory. Not enough for us to survive, even with moving back in with Mum or Dad. This job has a great package and even better salary which means I’ll be able to save a bit each month. God knows baby stuff looks expensive.
A knock on the door startles us both. A head pokes through the door, quickly followed by a huge body. Oh my God. It’s him. It’s Arthur.
Eloise told me I shouldn’t bump into him here. Not that I’ve told her he’s the father. She just thinks that we had a Chinese that night, that he said he was too busy for dating and I went on home. I’ve had to bullshit and say I had a random one-night stand with a designer from work.
He smiles at both of us, as if unshocked to see me. Shit, maybe he’s completely forgotten me already. Maybe he lied and I’m on a long list of women he beds. The shame settles on my soul that I could be just another notch on his bed post.
‘Roger,’ he says cheerily. ‘I just wanted to come in and tell you what a fantastic candidate Charlotte is.’
He did? What the hell? He remembers me and he’s trying to help me get a job? Why?
‘Oh really?’ Roger says with an amused grin, looking between us both.
‘Oh yes.’ He perches himself on the edge of his desk, his dick ridiculously close to my face. Jesus. Do not look at it, Charlotte. Do not think of all the delicious things he did to you with it.
‘I’ve heard excellent things from her previous employer.’
What a total lie. Why is he trying to help me? What’s in it for him?
‘Jolly good,’ Roger says with a nod. He looks back to me. ‘I’ll be in touch soon.’
Ah, he’s dismissing me. Wants to talk to Arthur in private. Probably to tell some sexist man joke about me.
I quickly stand, careful not to stick out my stomach. Not that I’m showing at all yet, but I’m still self-conscious about it. Especially with the father of the baby in front of me.
‘Thank you for the opportunity.’ I turn to leave.
‘I’ll show you out,’ Arthur says, following me and guiding me out of the room by the small of my back. Just that touch has my body igniting. Damn hormones.
He guides me into the long hallway. As soon as we’re out of ear shot he turns to me, his dark brown eyes shining bright. I can smell his floral and citrus aftershave and its doing things to me.
‘Well, this is a wonderful surprise.’
I snort. ‘You didn’t sound so surprised back there.’
‘Well I bumped into Eloise. She told me.’ He narrows his eyes at me. ‘I thought you were a fashion designer.’
‘I said I worked in fashion,’ I correct him. ‘I didn’t say doing what.’
He looks shocked and impressed. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘I am.’
God, just looking at him, the father of my baby, makes me want to smash him over the head. Stupid strong sperm bastard.
He quirks one eyebrow up. ‘Well, maybe we should celebrate?’
I stare up at him. People pass us in the hallway. I lower my voice to a whisper, trying desperately to control my growing anger.
‘Sorry, but are you seriously asking me to consider a celebratory shag?’
His mouth falls open, his eyes bulge. ‘Err… I was going to suggest going for a drink.’
‘Oh.’ Well now I look crazy. ‘Well, I’m afraid the answer is still no.’
God, I miss alcohol.
He turns his head to one side, his brow furrowed. ‘Really? Why not?’
He’s obviously never been turned down before.
I search around for an answer that doesn’t include me screaming because you ruined my life and I never want to see your gorgeous face ever again.
‘Because you’re a workaholic. And so am I. That means neither of us will have time for the other. So best to just nip that in the bud.’
I storm off, eager to put as much space between us as possible, but he runs after me.
‘Are you upset because I didn’t call you…’ he lowers his voice to a whisper, ‘You know, after?’
I gasp. ‘No.’ I’m insulted that he thinks I’m some clingy bitch that didn’t listen to his whole speech.
‘Then what is it?’
Gorgeous bastard can’t understand why I wouldn’t want to go out with him.
I sigh, quickly counting to ten in my head.
‘I just don’t have the time. I’d kindly ask that you leave me alone if I get the job here. Which to be honest, is doubtful.’
I turn and stride away and don’t look back until I’m near the tube.
Arthur
What the hell crawled up her arse? She’s like a completely different person to the one I met a few weeks back. Where’s the carefree cute woman I had screaming with ecstasy in my ear? Now she seems so serious.
It’s sad that I realise I admired that she wasn’t obsessed with her job like me. I suppose selfishly I want to find someone willing to fully give themselves over to me. To really care for me. Hell knows I need it. The hours I work are killing me, sometimes at the end of the day I want nothing more than just a warm body to press against. Someone to hold me. Dear God, not sleeping has turned me into a pussy.
If I went to a therapist they’d probably say it stems back to being sent off to boarding school from the age of eight. Not having a motherly touch helping to raise me. Whatever, I’ve done very bloody well without my parents smothering me.
Doesn’t stop me feeling drawn towards Charlotte though. It’s not just the thought of having red hot sex again, it’s having someone to talk to without it turning political. Maybe I am ready for a relationship. I just need to find someone available at my beck and call. Someone willing to take second place to this job. Yeah, good luck there, Arthur.
I walk back into Roger’s office unannounced.
‘So, what do you think of Charlotte?’
Monday 17th August
Charlotte – 18 Weeks Pregnant
I don’t know how I managed it but I’m starting work at Whitehall. I have my twenty-week scan in two weeks’ time so I need to get my feet firmly under the desk before I drop that bombshell on my new boss.
Luckily for me I’ve had little morning sickness and I’m finally starting to feel more energetic. If I hadn’t have had my twelve-week scan and seen the baby with my own eyes, I’d be assuring myself I wasn’t really pregnant.
I finally told Mum, who took it far better than expected. Said she was glad I wasn’t leaving it too late to have a child. I’m thirty-one, hardly a geriatric pregnancy! She also said she was glad I was doing it alone. That’s right, my mum was pleased I’m going to be a single mother.
‘At least you won’t have to rely on a man. You can do everything your way. God, the amount of times your father would pipe up and tell me I was doing something wrong. That on top of a crying baby is just hell, sweetheart.’
Any excuse to remind me that I was a demonic baby that cried twenty-four hours a day and throw in an insult to my dad. I just hope the demonic baby gene doesn’t get passed down. Mum didn’t offer for me to come and live with her, but I’m assuming she’ll have me.
Dad however took it differently. Makes me wonder how the two of them ever got together. He was silent on the phone for a solid two minutes. Then he got me to go through all of my finances with him and insisted I’d have to move in with him when the baby was born. I’ve said I’ll have a think about it.
I just hope I don’t see Arthur while I’m here. Eloise keeps pressurising me into telling her who the father is; she wants an actual name. No doubt so she can hunt him down and kick him in the ba
lls.
I know she’s right. Arthur does have a right to know. Well, some days I think that, but then on other days I think, fuck him. He quite happily had no strings attached sex and didn’t bother to check if I was alive after it. I could have been hit by a bus the next day and he’d never have known.
The worst thing is the fear that he spun me a lie and does this a lot. Meets woman, draws them in and then plays that whole ‘I can’t commit’ thing on them before releasing his devilish hypnotic eyes and bedding them immediately.
In a way it would be all too easy to ignore him and not tell him. Hope he doesn’t work out the dates, and if he does, tell him he’s got it wrong. What kind of right does he have to this baby anyway? He hasn’t made us any promises. Hasn’t made any commitment to me.
Ugh, but I know it’s the right thing to do. Damn me for being raised right. My parents might be mental but they got something right. I will tell him. Eventually. When I learn a bit more about him.
Arthur
I haven’t slept the few little hours I normally would for the last couple of weeks. Not since I saw Charlotte again and not since she blew me off with total disregard. But today is the day. She’s starting here thanks to some pretty heavy-handed persuasion on my part.
And I’ve decided; she’s mine.
I’m claiming her. Before any of these swarmy bastards get a good look at her, I’m making her mine. I don’t care what I said and what I know. I want her back in my bed and unavailable for anyone else. Sure I can’t offer her what she wants, but I’m a selfish bastard. If I can’t have her, no-one else can either.
I stop in front of her desk holding out a coffee.
‘Happy first day.’ I attempt my most charming smile.
She rolls her eyes and begrudgingly takes it from my hand but doesn’t sip from it. Well this is awkward. I rock on my heels, trying not to gawk at her arse in that baby blue pencil skirt. She’s going to stand out here just from her love of colour.
Whitehall Baby: A Surprise Pregnancy, Fake Relationship Romantic Comedy Perfect for Chick Lit Fans Page 3
