Little Secrets--Holiday Baby Bombshell

by Karen Booth

  Charlotte’s shoulders dropped in frustration. “I don’t know how long you were gone, but I’m pretty sure it was more than twenty minutes. Regardless, I woke up, you were gone, there was no note and no explanation, but you sure took the time to fold my clothes. I even sent you a text and you didn’t answer. It just started to feel an awful lot like a repeat of the old Charlotte and Michael show. I hate that show, Michael. Just so you know.”

  He frowned. “I didn’t see the text until right before I sent one to you, which you didn’t bother to answer, either. I figured I should let you sleep. I never imagined you would wake up so early.”

  “I always get up early, Michael. Do you really not remember that about me?”

  He scratched his temple. “Yeah, I guess I remember that. I was mostly just thinking about how tired you seemed last night.”

  “Sex against a wall will do that to a person,” she snapped. “And you had a showing this morning? Or were you trying to hide that from me?”

  The look that crossed his face was pure annoyance. “I don’t hide anything, ever. I took Abby for a walk, the woman I ended up showing the apartment to was in the lobby. She wanted to pet Abby, we started to talk and the next thing I knew I’d sold another unit.”

  Of course he’d sold another unit. How silly of her to think anything less could’ve happened. How these things just fell into his lap was beyond her. “I’m glad you’ve had such a productive morning. Look, last night was really fun, but you and I have a terrible time getting on the same page, so I think it’s best if we just go back to the part with no kissing or touching.”

  “I thought we were spectacularly on the same page last night.”

  He was not kidding about that. They were. But sex wasn’t enough to make her happy, just temporarily giddy. “That part is fine. It’s everything else that’s messed up. This morning has been the perfect illustration of that.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t leave a note.”

  “It’s not an indictment, Michael. So you didn’t leave a note. It’s not about the note. It’s about our complete incompatibility. I obviously need more than you’re equipped to give, which is exactly why we broke up in the first place.” She patted him on the shoulder. “Now, I need to go spend time with my family. I’ll see you around, okay?”

  “Around? What does that even mean?”

  “The hall? The elevator? The lobby? Anywhere else and we just seem to get into trouble.”

  Nine

  Judging by the view, being a professional woman really suited Charlotte. Michael watched as she approached him at the elevators—she was teetering on heels that made her legs far too appealing. Her skirt was full and swishy, her blouse crisp and fitted. Her blond hair was up in a twist, or was it a bun? Michael wasn’t sure what it was called. He only knew that it was sexy as hell.

  “Morning,” she said, standing straight and looking only at the elevators.

  “Morning, yourself.” He was still trying to sort out what had happened at the wedding, and after it.

  The elevator doors slid open and he gestured for her to go first. He had Abby with him, and he firmly believed in being a gentleman. They stood inside, shoulders a polite distance apart, neither making eye contact.

  “Busy morning?” he asked.

  “I have a showing at ten. Eighteen B.”

  “No way. I’m showing Eighteen C at ten as well. On my way down to meet the client now.”

  “You’re taking Abby?”

  “He’s a huge dog-lover. I figured she could help seal the deal.”

  She glanced at him for a second and nodded. “Nice. This was a referral from Gabe Underwood. The Taylors. John, Jane and their little boy. I’m meeting Gabe and them downstairs in a minute.”

  Ugh. And I thought today was going to be a good day. “So you got some business out of Gabe at the wedding?”

  She twisted her lips and shot him a look. He hadn’t meant for it to come out as a suggestive comment. “I did.”

  A big part of him wanted to just let this go, but he couldn’t. “I hate that we’ve gone back to our old dynamic. It was more fun when we only hated each other a little.”

  “I don’t hate you, Michael. I’m simply trying to protect my own feelings and concentrate on my career. If anyone should be able to appreciate that, it should be you. It’s exactly what I told you. Nothing has changed.” The elevator slowly pulled to a stop, then dinged and the doors slid open. Out she marched without him.

  Indeed, nothing had changed. Except Charlotte. She seemed different now, and it was becoming more pronounced every day. She was more confident. She stood up for herself. She put him in his place. He’d never had to live with any remorse over losing a girlfriend before, but he was definitely suffering from the effects with her. Watching her walk around the world as if she didn’t need him at all was again making him wonder just how badly he’d messed up when he’d let her go. “Okay, then,” he muttered to himself. He followed her into the lobby, but Charlotte took strides so long he couldn’t keep up, which was saying a lot considering how much longer his legs were.

  Michael greeted his client, Samuel Baker, an art dealer looking to move back to New York after a few years in Los Angeles. Michael had sold him his last New York apartment. “I hope you found the hotel with no problem.”

  “Yep. Yep. Is this the same dog you had the last time?”

  Michael leaned down and scratched Abby behind the ears. “The same one. This is Abby.”

  “Hello, beautiful,” Mr. Baker said, showing her affection.

  “Shall we head upstairs?” Michael couldn’t stand another minute in the same space with Gabe Underwood. He was across the lobby, laughing like an idiot at Charlotte’s jokes. He was so flirtatious with her, it made Michael insane. Couldn’t she see that he was just sucking up to her as a means of getting more business from Sawyer and Noah? Or maybe she didn’t care. Maybe she only wanted to get another buyer out of him.

  Michael and Mr. Baker took the elevator, but Samuel was taking the hall at a pretty slow pace once they arrived on the eighteenth floor. It wasn’t long before Gabe and Charlotte caught up to them, along with Gabe’s clients, the Taylors and their son, who was toddling down the hall.

  “Doggie!” the little boy exclaimed.

  Mrs. Taylor tugged him along. “Yes. A doggie.”

  Michael opened up Eighteen C and went to work. Mr. Baker loved the layout of the living room and the views, which was all fantastic news, but Michael was again having a hard time focusing when he could hear Charlotte laughing from next door.

  “Are the walls really that thin?” Mr. Baker asked.

  Apparently. “Oh, it won’t be that bad when there’s furniture in both units and artwork on the walls. Plus, I know the agent next door and she’s especially giggly. Don’t worry. She won’t actually be living there.”

  Mr. Baker nodded. He seemed convinced enough by the explanation. “Is that the blonde?”

  “That’s the one.”

  “She’s a cutie. I mean, I know I’m not supposed to make comments like that, but she is.”

  “You’re not wrong, Mr. Baker. You’re not wrong at all. Now let me show you the master suite.”

  The rest of the showing went smoothly. Michael hardly had to sell at all, and that meant he was done well before Charlotte and Gabe were showing any sign of slowing down next door. Part of him wanted to hang around and find out what was happening, and another part of him knew he needed to get a life, get over Charlotte and get back to the office. He closed the door on what would soon be Mr. Baker’s apartment and locked up. He was about to press the button to call the elevator when he heard a screeching yelp. He turned and the Taylors’ little boy was headed straight for him.

  “No!” the child yelled. “No new house.”

  Michael was terri
ble with kids, but somewhere inside he must have some protective instinct because he crouched down and spread his arms wide to keep the boy from running right past him. “What’s up, little man?”

  The kid collided with Michael’s arms. His cheeks were puffy and red, his brown eyes wide with shock. Then he saw Abby. “Doggie!”

  Abby had a different skill set than Michael when it came to children. She loved them and had the perfect easygoing attitude to go along with it. She dutifully let the boy pet her, sitting still and putting up with some rough handling. “Gentle.” Michael demonstrated the proper petting technique.

  Mrs. Taylor tore out into the hall. “I’m so sorry.” She took the little boy’s hand and turned to Charlotte, who had come out to see what was wrong. “This is the third place we’ve looked at today and I think he’s had enough. My husband and I really think this is the place for us, but maybe we should come back on another day when out little guy isn’t so tired.”

  Charlotte nodded, but you could see the disappointment on her face. “Of course. Whatever you think is best.”

  “I’m happy to hang out here with him in the hall if you guys need to finish up.” Michael wasn’t sure what had come over him. He liked Charlotte, he cared about her and wanted to see her succeed, but he wasn’t the guy who typically tried to save the day. He had a mountain of work to do. And yet, he couldn’t walk away when he knew that one tiny favor might do Charlotte some good.

  Mrs. Taylor turned back to Michael with a questioning look. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. He loves the dog. She clearly loves him. We’ll just play for a few minutes.” Michael sat down on the floor and leaned back against the wall, still holding on to Abby’s leash and keeping a close eye on the little boy and the dog.

  “That would be amazing. Thank you so much.” Mrs. Taylor turned to Charlotte and squealed. “That means we can buy a house today.”

  Charlotte looked right at Michael, her beautiful blue eyes pulling on him like they had their own gravitational force. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I owe you one.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he muttered to himself after she’d gone.

  After about twenty minutes, the Taylors emerged from the apartment and retrieved their son.

  “Thank you, again,” the dad said.

  “No problem,” Michael replied, standing up and brushing his pants clean. He gave Abby a pat for her extrapatient behavior.

  Gabe and Charlotte were next to appear as the Taylors took the elevator downstairs.

  “She was amazing in there, Kelly,” Gabe said. “I gotta tell you, she really knows her stuff, and she couldn’t have been any more charming if she tried. My clients fell in love with Charlotte well before they fell in love with the unit. Which they just bought, I should mention.”

  Charlotte blushed and playfully knocked Gabe in the arm. “Stop. You’re embarrassing me.”

  Michael had no doubt that when it came to charm, Charlotte could win lots of people over. Maybe that was part of the reason why he just couldn’t seem to get over her—she was constantly amazing him and proving him wrong. He’d always contended that real estate was a business only for the truly brutal, but judging by the look on Charlotte’s face, she was managing to do pretty well by simply being her normal lovely self.

  Gabe consulted his watch. “Well, I have to scoot. The Taylors are waiting for me downstairs. You sure you don’t want to join us for lunch? I’m sure the Taylors would love it.”

  Charlotte grinned wide. She was so full of pride she looked as though she was about to explode. Michael could remember what it was like when this was all new. Maybe he wasn’t tough. Maybe he was just jaded. “I’m so sorry. It sounds wonderful, but I have two more showings this afternoon and some other work to do.”

  Gabe held up his hands in mock surrender. “I get it. You’re busy. Not surprised. Just keep it up.” He grasped her elbow and kissed her cheek. “Maybe you and I can have a meal on our own some time. Celebrate the sale, together?”

  Michael was as uncomfortable as he’d ever been. He found his fingers coiling in his palm, like they were itching to unleash one well-placed punch.

  “That’s very sweet of you. I don’t like to mix business and pleasure, but if you want to have dinner as colleagues, that would be quite nice.”

  The disappointment on Gabe’s face was a nice reward. Michael felt like he could exhale. “Oh, sure. Of course.” He didn’t look at Michael at all. “I’d better head downstairs.”

  “Nice save,” Michael said when Gabe was finally gone. “It’s not easy to turn someone down for dinner.”

  “It wasn’t a save. I have no interest in Gabe. He’s a nice enough guy, but our relationship is about work and nothing else.”

  Michael had to temper the good feelings her statement brought about. She’d made the same argument about Michael, too. Just work. No pleasure.

  “Headed down to your apartment?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I need to call Noah and make a plan with him. He wants me to do a walk-through on a project he and Sawyer are thinking about taking on. They want my opinion.”

  “Residential?”

  “Yeah. Downtown. I’m hoping this means good things for me.” They made their way to the elevator. “Noah hinted that they might have another project for me to work on. At first I’d thought I only cared about the listings in the Grand Legacy, but now that we’re getting down to the wire, I need to start thinking about what’s next, you know?”

  “Of course.” He had to wonder what else or who else she saw in her future. Could he ever catch up to her and be comfortable with the idea of more than casual?

  “Thank you again for helping with the Taylors’ son.”

  “I was happy to help. It’s funny, because I’m usually terrible with kids. But that little guy was pretty nice.”

  She shot him an indecipherable look and sighed. “Well, thank you.”

  “So. Another sale. How many more units does that leave for you?” he asked.

  “Three. You?”

  “I’m down to two.”

  This time, she didn’t seem in any way defeated by the knowledge that he was ahead in their race. “It’s close. I predict a photo finish.”

  They rode the elevator down to the fifteenth floor. Michael was overcome with a deep desire to kiss Charlotte. She’d always been irresistible, but right now, it went well beyond that. She seemed brighter, more beautiful, so full of life. Perhaps it was the shine of success. It looked good on her.

  “Hey. I’m still hosting that cocktail party I told you about. The one on the twenty-third?”

  “Ah. The family avoidance party?”

  “And networking. Don’t forget that. I’m having it downstairs in the cellar bar. Do you want to come? You didn’t give me a definitive answer the first time.”

  “Is this a date? Because I’m not going as your date.”

  Wow. He really was in the same miserable boat as Gabe. “I’d like to be able to buy you a drink, if that’s what you’re asking. We could even ride the elevator together.”

  She thought long and hard. “Okay. Yes. I’d love it. Thank you. As long as this is about work and nothing else.”

  “It’s nothing else. I promise.”

  Ten

  Charlotte had to go to Michael’s party. It would be stupid not to go. Downright foolish. There would be professional contacts to be made, better yet in the scope of a social gathering. Charlotte could rock a party like nobody’s business. She was built for it. The trouble was the host. Michael was built for making her do stupid things.

  Fresh out of the shower, hair up in a towel, she attempted to apply liquid eyeliner—no easy feat in itself—but her hand wouldn’t stop trembling, leaving her with more of a fat wobbly smudge than a chic and seductive cat eye. It was all he
r dumb heart, nervous about tonight. It couldn’t settle on the proper speed, so it was instead jumping up and down like an overcaffeinated rabbit, sending quakes and tremors through her arms and legs. She set down the tube of eyeliner on the bathroom counter and drew in a calming breath, looking at herself in the mirror. Hers was not the face of an in-control businesswoman. Frankly, all she could see was the same desperate teenage girl, her old self, clamoring for approval and love. I have to get a grip. She had to keep Michael at a professional distance tonight. He may have worked his way into her better graces by watching the Taylors’ son, but tonight was about proving a point to herself. She had to know that she and Michael could coexist on an amicable, platonic level. The trouble was the tone of Michael’s voice in the elevator when he’d reminded her of the party. Every time she’d ever heard him talk that way, they were either in bed or on their way there.

  Her heart couldn’t afford another trip into Michael’s bed. With the baby on the way, she had to keep her lines drawn. She had no doubt that the instant she finally revealed the news to Michael, that’s what he would do. I have the distinct impression you want far more from this relationship than I am prepared to give. Even now, the words, which were permanently etched in her memory, stung like a fresh slice through her heart. There was no mistaking just how damning those words were, especially for a woman in love. Talk about closing a door on their future—Michael had slapped a padlock on it and promptly tossed the key.

  Of course, he’d had to keep tempting her with his physique and sharp wit, with his smarts and the way he looked in a pair of jeans. He had no clue what was on the line. They weren’t even on the same playing field anymore. He thought they were flirting. He thought they’d had a fun night of hot sex. She had to set him straight, but not until her half of the Grand Legacy units were sold. By then, she could tell her family. By then, she could tell Michael and they would no longer have work entanglements. She didn’t want him to back down from their competition because she was pregnant with his baby. She wanted to win this, fair and square, if only to prove to herself once and for all that she could make it on her own.