Mr. Big

by Delancey Stewart

  Artificial insemination was not something I’d seriously considered. Delia believed it was a viable option, but the way I saw it, I had until I was forty to have a family the traditional way. That was a lot of years between now and the day I might walk into a sperm bank looking for a father to my unborn children. It was funny how things worked out. Nothing in my life had ever really gone according to plan, despite the plans I sketched out and carefully detailed in my notebook. Oliver hadn’t been part of the plan, and getting pregnant now—on the brink of the professional success I’d been working toward—was absolutely not something I’d intended. In the bigger scheme of things, though, falling in love and having a child seemed like exactly what I wanted. But not like this.

  Oliver left because he believed I’d lied to him. He believed I’d tricked him, manipulated him, and that I was a person capable of perpetuating a lie for my own purposes. For money. The idea made me almost physically sick. The knowledge that he thought of me like that—as a woman capable of playing a man for money…I couldn’t understand it. I’d been honest with him. I’d been open and clear. And as soon as I knew I was pregnant, I’d told him. I had expected nothing.

  But I hadn’t expected him to turn it around and accuse me of planning the entire thing, either.

  As the days passed, anger replaced the ragged pain I felt. I was not the kind of person Oliver believed me to be. I might have come from nothing, might not have the money and the privilege he’d always had, but that didn’t mean I spent my life looking for ways to get it from other people. I’d spent every single day of my life figuring out how to do things for myself, learning how to build myself up from nothing and how to find a security no one could take away from me. I thought Oliver understood that. I thought he knew me.

  I was wrong.

  —

  I had canceled on Pamela more than once, and it had been a long time since we’d really talked. I agreed to meet with her Friday. I wasn’t in a place where I really wanted to talk, or to trust anyone, but I also realized I needed friends. And Pamela was a single mom—something I might need some insight about.

  “That bad, huh?” Pamela said, sliding into the booth across from me at the café around the corner from work. I hadn’t met her in the office because I was afraid of running into Oliver. My office seemed to be off-limits for him, but any common space in the executive tower—including my beloved coffeehouse—was ripe for a run-in that I didn’t want to have.

  “Am I that transparent?”

  “Don’t look for a second career in poker, that’s all I’m saying.” Pamela’s eyes twinkled as she smiled, the freckles across the bridge of her nose giving her a sweet and nonthreatening look. “What’s up?”

  I shook my head. I’d wondered what I might say to her, whether I’d spend our lunch venting about her boss. “I’m kind of a disaster right now. That’s why I canceled on you before.”

  “Would this maybe have any connection to my boss acting like a complete ass for the last couple weeks?”

  My heart accelerated against my will, and I wondered if Oliver felt something other than anger at his belief of my betrayal. “It might. I guess you know about things?”

  “I figured a few things out before the MLB deal began to look like it was going to come through. But he’s reverted back to pre-MLB Oliver. Rob’s worried he’s going to disappear again…” she trailed off, maybe thinking better of sharing what had transpired in the executive offices with me.

  I dropped my head into my hands. I didn’t want to worry about Oliver. I didn’t want to care how he was doing. He hurt me. He completely destroyed me, if I was honest. “I’m sorry,” I said, knowing Oliver’s mood would make her life harder.

  “Are you going to tell me what happened?”

  Our sandwiches came, and I stalled, picking at the fries on my plate and trying to figure out what the professional ethics might be of discussing something so personal with Oliver’s secretary. Though, to be truthful, professional ethics had pretty much gone out the window when I’d gotten involved with the CEO.

  “Here’s what I know,” Pamela tried, dipping a fry in ketchup and squinting at it before popping it into her mouth. “You and Oliver became involved, and Oliver went from absent to angry, and then from present to completely engaged. He became the guy I knew a year ago—except better. There was something hopeful and fun about him that hadn’t been there before. Before his parents died, he’d gotten really angry and seemed so lost. And then he left. But whatever happened with you guys…it made him happy.”

  “Until it didn’t,” I offered.

  Pamela said nothing, just ate and waited for me to explain.

  “I never meant to get involved, I swear,” I began. “And when I met him, he told me his name was Hale. And he looked like some kind of surf bum or something…I didn’t even think he belonged here. I couldn’t figure out why he was here.”

  Pamela nodded, her mouth full.

  “But I was trying to figure out how to make StrokeStat work for MLB and he saw some of the notes I’d made when I was sitting in the coffeehouse. He volunteered to help.”

  “He did?” Her eyes widened. “Angry Oliver offered to help? That’s something…Last time I saw that version of him, he was throwing things around in the office and yelling at people.”

  I nodded, remembering the day I’d gone to see Pamela and sent security up after Oliver instead. “He was pretty friendly, actually—well, after he apologized for being a complete dick. If either of us was really evil at first, it was probably me. But he was kind and smart, and I needed the help. We ended up…” I paused, thinking about the day at the pier, about what had happened after in my apartment. “We got involved. I didn’t plan it to happen, I just got caught up.” I shook my head, trying to shake off the warmth that had crept over me, remembering the way Oliver’s eyes burned as he’d looked at me that first time we’d been together.

  “So you still had no clue who he really was?”

  I shook my head. “Not until the MLB meeting. He kind of sprung it on me, and the MLB people practically fell all over themselves at the meeting when they realized he was the CEO. I was a little less thrilled.”

  “I bet.”

  “But I understood why he hadn’t told me up-front.”

  Pamela was nodding, and I was surprised how easily the story was pouring out of me.

  “And then things just happened so fast. He was sweet to me, so honest…and so…”

  “Hot?” Pamela suggested.

  I felt my eyes widen. “Yeah,” I admitted. “There was that.” I smiled as my heart squeezed a bit, remembering the way it had felt to have those dark eyes trained on me, to see that perfect strong mouth opening in pleasure as I rode him, to have the attention of such a powerful and beautiful man focused entirely on me. I shook off the image. “But then something happened.” I shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m pregnant.”

  Pamela inhaled sharply. “Oh shit.”

  I shook my head, trying to let her know she didn’t need to feel bad for me. “It’s fine. I mean, no, it isn’t fine, but it’s something I wanted. I mean, eventually.”

  “Okay. And Oliver?”

  “That’s the thing.” I sat back in the booth and stared out the window for a minute. And then I explained what had happened, how I’d told him, and how he’d decided I lied to him. “But I would never do that,” I assured Pamela, who looked stunned. “I wasn’t using him for his money. I didn’t care at all about that. I got pregnant the old-fashioned way. By accident.”

  “I know,” she said. “I can tell you’re not lying. Oh God, what a mess.”

  I nodded my agreement, surprised at how nice it felt to have told someone everything. I hadn’t told Delia on Wednesday. I’d told her I still hadn’t spoken to Oliver. I knew she’d be upset for me, and I didn’t want to do that to her. So I’d pretended I was still just upset about the breakup.

  “Well,” Pamela said. “Here’s what I think. Not that you’re aski
ng.” She added the last part quickly, raising an eyebrow.

  “Go ahead,” I said. “I’m asking.”

  “Oliver lost everything, right? Or that’s what he thinks. His parents died in that horrible car crash, and then right after he finds out, he learns he was adopted and they never told him. He probably could have handled either one by itself, but I think his grief and his confusion got so mixed up that he just became angry. And maybe it was easier for him to be angry than to actually handle the emotions that came with all that turmoil. He decided they’d lied to him by not telling him, right?”

  I nodded slowly. “I think you’re right…but did he tell you all this?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m around him enough to have figured a lot out, plus Rob and Tony were talking a lot right after it happened. Oliver didn’t keep any of it secret, he just kind of blurted it out and then disappeared. He didn’t tell me how he felt about it all, but that was easy enough to see.”

  “Right.”

  “So I think his big issue was that they lied, right?”

  “I guess.” I didn’t believe his parents had lied exactly, but I could see how Oliver might decide to believe that. Especially if it let him avoid facing the grief that losing them would have caused.

  Pamela nodded and sat back, crossing her arms as if she’d solved everything. “Well, that’s it. This isn’t even about you.”

  “Um. Pregnant over here. Kind of about me.”

  “Right, well that, sure. Yes, that’s totally about you. And about Oliver…and”—Pamela’s face lit up and she leaned forward clenching the sides of the table—“oh my gosh, Holland…you guys are going to have a baby! This is so wonderful!”

  “You’re forgetting the part about how he hates me now.” It was easy to be a little bit flip about it with Pamela, and shooting the words out like that helped me avoid the total devastation that was my heart.

  She raised her palms and gave her head a little shake. “That’ll get figured out. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  I didn’t feel sure at all.

  “Can I plan a shower?” Pamela asked, practically bouncing in her seat now.

  I moved to say no, but it occurred to me that without Oliver’s help, getting everything I needed to take care of an infant would be a financial challenge—even with my new salary. Once I had the commission on the MLB deal, maybe, but I couldn’t wait to get ready for something that was already in motion. This baby was like a ticking time bomb inside me. “I guess so,” I said, and then realized that wasn’t quite the polite answer. “I mean yes. That would be wonderful.”

  Pamela grinned. “Don’t worry about the other stuff. Do you want me to say something to him?”

  “Definitely not.” I watched my friend looking so cheerful and potentially devious, and began to worry that she would try to fix things for me. “I mean it.”

  She spread her hands out before her in the air. “Of course. I’ll stay out of it.”

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Pamela leaned in a bit again and looked as if she was trying to decide whether to speak. “Just so you know, being a single mom…it’s great, Holland. I wouldn’t trade it.”

  I raised an eyebrow at her.

  “Well, maybe for the right guy. But Kenner’s dad was definitely not the right guy. So it’s better for us this way.”

  It was nice to hear her sounding so confident about something that scared the crap out of me. “How’s he doing?”

  “Kenner is great. He loves his teachers and he’s actually starting to identify words.”

  I nodded. “Oh my gosh! He’s so little, though!”

  “Yeah, it’s not necessarily a good thing. I never realized how much I get away with because he doesn’t read.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Like the baby carrots. I told him if he kept eating them, there might be a prize in the bag. I told him it said so on the bag, and the other day he was in the refrigerator sounding out words. He gave me the carrot bag and asked which word was ‘prize.’ ”

  I laughed, imagining Pamela caught in her white lie. “So is he off carrots, then?”

  She grinned. “Yeah, but until he learns that broccoli isn’t really made from ‘tiny trees’ I guess I’m okay.”

  We finished lunch and returned to the office, me dodging places where tall, handsome, broody CEOs might hang out, and Pamela offering me a sympathetic glance as I got off the elevator at my floor.

  That night, like the entire week of nights that preceded it, was spent working late and then slinking home to crawl into my lonely bed trying to force my mind not to spin over what I might have done differently.

  Chapter 23

  Oliver

  We called an emergency board meeting to discuss the potential sell-off, even though we’d met the previous week. Rob had suggested giving them a preview of the MLB opportunity, even though the deal wasn’t solid, hoping it would convince those planning to leave to wait. However, few members were forthcoming about what SonicCom was offering to tempt them to sell their shares.

  “Is Cody stable at this point?” asked Annabeth Luce, one of the members I was most worried about. “I’m not interested in losing this investment. Without Adam at the helm—”

  “Adam has not been at the helm for years,” I interrupted, trying to keep my voice calm and stable. “I am CEO of this company, and have been since its inception. In the last three years, Adam’s role became something of a figurehead as he moved toward retirement. Though it was certainly regrettable—for me most of all, Adam Cody’s death has little impact on the future of this company.”

  “Regrettable?” Annabeth parroted, her eyes narrowing at me. Clearly she believed Adam’s son would use a different word to describe his death.

  I stared her down and eventually she dropped her eyes.

  “There is a major deal on the horizon. At this point, that deal is being worked out between the attorneys for both organizations, and we can’t offer details—”

  “Then what do we really have to encourage us to hold our shares?” another member asked. “This company has been losing value over the last six months. I’m sorry, Oliver. I had a great respect for your father, and for you, too, but this is business.”

  “You have my word,” I said, standing.

  Rob caught my eye and I nodded as he began to speak. “The negotiations should be complete by the end of April,” he said. “But when the media gets hold of this deal, the attention alone will boost the value of your shares, and I expect we’ll have interest from other investors.”

  “Give me one month,” I said, angry that some of our original backers were suddenly ready to give up on something they’d once believed in, angry that this was my fault for letting things fall apart after Adam’s death. “If you still want to sell, I’ll have a list of investors who will be happy to buy your shares.”

  “SonicCom will buy them now.”

  “As you said, they aren’t worth what they were,” I pointed out. “If you’re that desperate to get out, you can do it in a month, and you’ll make more money in the transaction. If it’s all about the money for you, you’ve got an out.” I couldn’t help the anger that seeped around the edges of my words. None of these people were in this for the money when we started. The people around this table were Adam’s friends, his former coworkers. Now they seemed more like vultures, ready to pick at the remains he’d left behind. A hot shard of pride and loyalty for the man I’d called my father blazed in me. “Give Adam that much respect. One month. I think you’ll see that the company he and I built together is still here, and stronger than ever.”

  There was grumbling around the table but no one made any more noise about selling. I needed the board to hold firm. If the company looked like it was about to be acquired, it could undo everything with MLB.

  As the meeting came to a close, a few members came to shake my hand on their way out.

  “Good to see you back,” said Burton Pax, one of Adam’s cl
osest friends. “I know your father would be proud.”

  I met his eyes, looking for any irony there. Did this man know I’d been adopted? The question was on my lips and I almost pulled him aside to ask him, but another man slapped a hand across my shoulder just then, forcing me to turn and thank him for coming, letting Burton disappear.

  When the room was empty, save for Rob, Pamela, and me, I slumped into a chair and stared out the plate glass to the city that looked sharp and hard today in the afternoon glare.

  “I think that went as well as could be expected,” Pamela said.

  “I think we’re fucked,” said Rob.

  I shook my head. “Adam did one thing right,” I told them, leaning forward, resting my forearms on the conference table. “He handpicked his investors. Those people were his friends and confidants. It’s not going to be an easy choice for them to leave.”

  “Especially after you played the dead-dad card,” Rob murmured.

  I shot him a look, but his quip didn’t hurt or piss me off the way I expected it to. Instead, a laugh actually escaped my lips. “Gotta use all the tools I’ve got, right?”

  —

  I worked late that night and hadn’t expected anyone else to be around, but Pamela was standing in the executive reception area in front of an open file drawer when I returned in the evening after running some errands that afternoon, trying to get my mind off work and everything else. “Pamela, hi.”

  “Oliver! I didn’t expect you back tonight.” She smiled and looked embarrassed, glancing at her feet. Her shoes were next to her desk, high-heeled sandals that I would have taken off at the first opportunity, too.

  I shrugged. “I’m like a ninja, you never know where I’ll pop up.”

  A wry smile lit her face and she said, “Yeah, you’re exactly like a ninja.” She shook her head. “That’s what my son says all the time, too. Neither of you seems to get that ninjas are quiet.”

  I stepped closer, intrigued. “Is this him?” I lifted a picture of her with a grinning little boy from her desk. I’d passed it a hundred times and never really looked at it. I didn’t know why I’d thought Pamela was single.