by Claire Adams
I'd nailed campaign after campaign. When it came to work, I was on fire. Asher had given me another raise, and word around the office was that I'd get another promotion soon, too. My career had never been better or more successful.
And yet it felt as if it didn't matter. In fact, nothing felt as if it mattered much any more aside from the life growing inside me. There were only the memories of the times Asher and I had shared haunting me like restless ghosts.
As I sat at my desk, lost in a daze of memories, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. I took it out to see Meg’s happy smile plastered on my phone.
“Hey, Meg,” I answer.
“Hey, Lilipop! How's Friday afternoon going for my favorite mommy-to-be?”
“It's a bit tiring, to be honest. It's been a crazy busy week, and I'm looking forward to kicking back and relaxing this weekend.”
“I hear ya. It's been a busy day at the office here, too. Hey, how would you feel about dinner?”
“Really? You’re asking a pregnant woman if she wants to eat?” I joked. “That sounds like a great idea.”
“Cool. How do you feel about sushi?”
“Ugh! Yes! You know me so well. I swear this kid is going to love sushi. Meet you at our usual sushi spot at 7:00?”
“Perfect! See you then!”
“Sweet. Bye, Meg.”
***
I checked the time on my phone again. It was only ten past 7:00, but it was very unusual for Meg to be late for anything. I considered calling her, but decided to wait another five minutes, just in case. Traffic had, after all, been particularly bad on the way here.
I tapped the screen on my phone and reached for my water just as a familiar voice sounded behind me. A chill ran down my spine.
“Well, well, well . . . Lilah Maxwell. Fancy meeting you here.”
I turned around to find Brendan Savage leering down at me, a stunning woman hanging on his arm. Her eyes were glazed over; she looked as if she was high on something. She probably had to be to put up with this creep. He whispered something in her ear, and she sauntered away.
Without asking, he sat down in the empty seat across from me at my table.
“What do you want?” I snapped. “I didn't say you could sit there.”
“Aw, come on now, is that how you treat an old, dear friend?”
“You aren't my friend, and you never were.”
“An old lover, then?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. I never let you touch me even once, and with good reason. Now, I'm waiting for an actual friend. Go away. I'll gladly call the manager if you don't.”
“Oh, is that a threat?” he smirked.
“Not at all,” I assured him. “I fully intend to follow through.”
“You think you're so much better than me, don't you? You and that prick boss of yours. Well, even though you two thought you got me, like the little Nancy Drew you thought you were, look at me. I'm walking around a free man with my reputation, intact despite your attempts to smear me in the press.”
“I’d say that reputation is a matter of opinion. But what you do have left is only because you bought off a journalist and got him to write a spin piece. Let’s not forget,that I know how much you had to pay Asher in that settlement. How does it feel to lose your billionaire status? What are driving now, anyway? I heard you had to sell your precious Bugatti to cover some of the expenses.”
He snarled, his facade of indifference broken.
“You're one stone-cold bitch, Lilah,” he hissed. “And you will get what’s coming to you. Don't think you're going to get away with what you did to me. You'd better sleep with one eye open.”
I stared at him with cold contempt in my eyes. “You're pathetic, Brendan. Get up now and leave.”
“I'll get up when—”
I grabbed the sleeve of a passing waiter who happened to be a tall, burly young man whose heavy arms were covered with biker-style tattoos.
“Excuse me, but this man has just sat down at my table uninvited, and he's harassing me and refusing to leave. Could you please call the manager?”
The burly waiter glared aggressively at Brendan.
“Do we have a problem here . . . sir?” he started. “Are you harassing this woman?”
Rage burned red across Brendan's face, but he knew that he couldn’t afford to get into any more legal trouble. He stood, his hands clenched in anger.
“No,” he hissed through tightly-drawn lips. “We don't have a problem. I was just leaving.”
“See you around, Lilah,” he snarled.
I didn't bother to respond.
The waiter watched him go with a steely gaze, but his expression softened as soon as Brendan had left. “I'm so sorry, miss,” he said. “Are you all right? I'll bring you a free cocktail, on me, if you'd like.”
I smiled. “Aw, aren't you sweet! No, but, thanks, dear, I'm fine. No alcohol for me anyway. Thank you for helping me out there.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “I was a bouncer at a bar before this. I left that job because I got so sick of dealing with asses like that. I didn't think I'd have to deal with it here.”
“I'm sure it was an isolated incident,” I commented. “Just a bit of bad luck, is all.”
The waiter nodded, smiled, and walked off just as Meg arrived. She had a strange expression on her face.
“Hey, there,” she said, glancing at the waiter. “Did I miss something?”
“Hey, Megs, you're a bit late.”
“Yeah. Uh, you didn't see anyone you know here, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know . . . Someone from your office. Someone from Sinclair.”
“Nope. I did run into someone—but he wasn't from Sinclair. A certain sleazy ex-billionaire and I'd rather not think about him, if ya don’t mind.”
“Hmm, all right.” She seemed almost disappointed, although I wasn't sure why. “Never mind,” she said. “Let's eat some sushi.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Asher
I wasn't sure exactly what Meg had hoped to achieve by inviting me to meet her and Lilah at the sushi restaurant, but I'd gone along with it anyway. I'd chatted with her a few times since getting back from Hawaii, but Lilah had no idea she and I had talked. Meg had told me how Lilah really felt about me, and of course I'd told her about how I felt about Lilah.
I'd hoped that, as Lilah's best friend, she was someone who would be able to convince Lilah of the depth of my feelings for her. But if she'd tried to change Lilah's mind about me, it hadn't worked. Since Hawaii, Lilah had remained as cold and indifferent as she ever had.
I still hadn't been able to work out what had happened, or what I'd done wrong. We'd had the most amazing time together in Hawaii—and I'm not simply talking about sex, although it had been amazing.
We'd done everything together over those few days. We'd eaten in wonderful restaurants, gone on long hikes, had a picnic, sunbathed on beaches, gone snorkeling together, sat by fires on the beach and watched the stars. It had been perfect . . . more perfect than I could ever remember anything in my life being.
I'd awoken late on the final day, only to find she'd quietly packed her bags and left. Attempts to call and message her had been met with silence. At first, I'd tried to talk with her about it, to plead with her to give us a chance, to just see if our relationship could work. She had simply refused.
So, I'd given up. Even though my heart still burned for her, I hadn't been able to do anything about it. It had been her choice, and that had been that.
At least, until Meg contacted me. She seemed to believe that I still had a chance. I'd been skeptical—how could I not be? Still, I'd reluctantly agreed to give it a shot.
So, there I was at sushi as requested. I'd seen Lilah's car in the parking lot, so I knew she was there. I walked in, hopeful, and then froze in my tracks at the sight that confronted me. Was this Meg's idea of a sick joke?! There was Lilah, all right—I could only see her from behind, but it was
unmistakably her—and there, seated across from her at the restaurant table, smiling with that disgusting, smug grin of his, was Brendan Savage.
I could only stand to see this scene for a few seconds. I knew if I didn't leave immediately, I would explode. With the awful sight burned into my mind, I spun around and stormed out of the restaurant.
I'd seen everything I needed to see. All hope was finally dead—and buried.
***
People all around the conference table were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs.
“And, as you can see, sales figures are actually down on the BluShade campaign,” I explained with a frown.
One person looked especially uncomfortable: Lilah.
After seeing her with Brendan Savage at the sushi restaurant two weeks earlier, I hadn't been able to look her in the eye. As successful as she'd been playing the ice queen, well, I'd managed to trump it. I had turned myself into the ice god. I'd been colder to her than I'd ever been to any human being in my life. It pained me to do it, but I didn't know how else to deal with the hurt, the betrayal.
“Ms. Maxwell,” I said coolly. “This is your campaign. And, it's turning out to be a failure. Do you have anything to say?”
“I'm . . . I'm sorry,” she half whispered.
“Sorry doesn't cut it in this arena,” I hissed. “Maybe if you paid more attention to your work instead of your boyfriend, these numbers might be a bit different and these sales figures wouldn't be looking quite so abysmal.”
She stood, tears flooding her eyes, and I could hear her fighting down the sobs rising up her throat. I couldn't believe I'd just said that—and I don't think she could believe it, either. A terrible, stabbing pain shot through my heart. What had I done?
“Excuse me,” she muttered, and stormed out, burying her face in her hands.
Everyone fell silent, and an uncomfortable heat flooded through me.
“God, I’m an ass,” I whispered without thinking about everyone in the room. “That's, um, that's all for today's meeting,” I said softly. “You can all go.”
Everyone left quickly and I hurried straight to Lilah's office. I'd gone too far, way too far. All of this had to end. I couldn't keep up this awful charade any longer. Something had to give.
I knocked on the door, but she didn’t answer. “Lilah?” I called out. All I heard was a groan from within. Something wasn't right. “Lilah, are you all right?”
Still no answer. I tried to open the door, but it was locked.
“Lilah, answer me!” I cried out, a sharp edge of worry and concern lacing my tone.
My tone was not one of anger, but of sharp, worried concern.
“Shit. Lilah, are you okay? I’m coming in.”
I stepped back, breathed in deeply, and then unleashed a savage Muay Thai kick on the door. The lock smashed instantly and the door swung open.
I gasped at the sight of Lilah curled up in a ball on the floor near her desk, whimpering in pain and clutching her stomach. A pool of dark blood was slowly spreading around her.
“Oh Jesus, oh my God,” I gasped. “Come on, we're going, we're going to the ER right now.” I wasn’t about to wait for an ambulance. I could have her at the hospital before they could even get to us.
I bent down and scooped her into my arms as gently as I could, then sprinted to the elevator. I called out for my new assistant to let the police department know there would be a white Ferrari driving like a bat out of hell to St. Patrick’s Hospital.
I was glad I'd driven my Ferrari to work—we were going to have to get to the hospital as fast as humanly possible. As soon as I got into the parking garage, I dashed over to the Ferrari, put her gently in the passenger seat, then screamed the motor and raced off to the ER.
***
I had been pacing around the waiting room for almost an hour and had been given no word on what was going on. I'd called Meg a few times, but had only been able to reach her ten minutes earlier. She was calling Eddie and was on her way.
Finally, the doctor emerged. I couldn't get an immediate reading from his expression because of the surgical mask covering his face.
“You're here with Ms. Maxwell, yes?” he asked.
“Yes. What can you tell me?”
“Well, the good news is that your daughter is going to be just fine.”
“My daughter? Lilah isn't my daughter.”
“No, I mean your unborn daughter. You are the baby's father, I presume?”
The news nearly knocked the wind from me. Two words and my entire world turned upside down. Your daughter. Two words explained everything. Everything!
I tried to play it cool. I needed to know Lilah was going to be okay. “Oh, um, yes, yes, I'm the father. A daughter, yeah. Wow, a daughter.”
The tilted his head a little. “I take it you didn’t know you were having a girl.”
I shook my head. “How’s Lilah? Is she okay?”
“That’s the bad news, I’m afraid. Ms. Maxwell cannot work again until after the child is born. It's obvious that she's been under far too much stress recently, and if she keeps pushing herself like this, the likelihood of a miscarriage severely increases. I know that this type of situation can sometimes cause more stress due to financial burdens, so pardon me for asking, but are you able to support yourself and her on your income alone?”
“That will not be a problem, Doctor, I assure you.”
“Good. Because I'm going to have to insist that she does not go back to work. I'll talk to her employer myself if I have to.”
“No, that won’t be necessary. I'll take care of it.”
“Good. She really must rest.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“You’re welcome. I'll check in on her later. You can see her in about ten minutes when the nurses are finished checking her vitals.”
“Of course.”
He walked off, and I was staggering on my feet. I grabbed a chair, unsure of my ability to stand. Leaning over, I rested my elbows on my knees and shoved my hands roughly through my hair, completely overwhelmed. I was going to be a dad. We were having a daughter!
“I guess you know the news now, huh?”
I looked up and saw Meg standing in front of me.
“I . . . I'm going to be a father,” I managed to utter in disbelief.
“Yes. Yes, you are,” she confirmed.
“Why didn't she tell me about this? Or you? You could have told me.”
She looked suddenly ashamed. “Look, I need to let you in on a few things,” she said, and sat down next me. She proceeded to explain everything about how Lilah had felt, from the very first time she and I had kissed, right up until the present. She told me about Lilah’s fears that I would be like my father—a risk that she hadn’t been willing to take with regard to her child. Our child.
“I understand why that might have concerned her,” I said, “but I would never do that. I love Lilah. When I say I'm not like my father, I not only mean it, but I can also prove it if she’ll let me.
“Hell, I even have medical documentation to back it up. My grandfather was a very thorough man. Even though he knew in his heart that I was nothing like my father, he was also a logical man and knew that intuition wasn't always concrete. He needed proof.
“So, before signing over the company to me in his will, he made me undergo a barrage of psychiatric tests to just confirm that there was no evidence of sociopathy, psychopathy, or violence in my personality. I passed with flying colors. I truly am nothing like my father. Looks are the only thing I share with that monster.”
Tears rimmed Meg's eyes. “I knew it. Somehow, I just knew it. And, I think she knows it, too. She just needs to hear it. Asher, she loves you. She hasn’t said the words, but I see it in her eyes when she talks about you. That's why I invited you for sushi. I wanted you two to talk—really talk. But you bailed! You didn't even show up. Why?”
“I did—but she was there with Savage. I just . . . I just assumed.”
“You
know what they say about assumptions, Asher. They're the mother of all fu—”
“I know,” I said, ashamed. “But why was he there?”
“It was a total chance encounter. And, he was harassing her like the ass hat that he is. She called a waiter to have him thrown out of the restaurant. If you'd stuck around for longer than ten seconds, you would have seen that. Hell, you could have saved her yourself, instead of letting some waiter do it.”
“Damn. I’m sorry. I wish I had.”
“There’s just one other thing,” Meg announced.
“I don’t like the sound of that.”
“Yeah. Well, do you remember on the flight to Hawaii when you told Lilah that you didn’t want children?”
My head fell back against the wall and I slumped in my chair. “Damn. I did say that. But I didn’t mean it—not like that.”
“Well, here’s your chance to tell her and patch things up. You’ll have plenty of time for making it up to her . . . as in the rest of your lives, with your beautiful daughter.”
I smiled. A daughter who was going to be the most loved child in the world!
“Now,” Meg pushed me out of my seat, “get your ass in there and tell the woman you love how you feel. And don’t take no for an answer this time.”
Epilogue
Lilah
THREE YEARS LATER
“Honey, do you think she'd prefer the red drums or the blue ones?”
“She's a fiery character,” I said, “so let's go with red.”
Asher looked across the room at me with a smile. “Just like her mother,” he winked. “Red it is. I’ll have them delivered tomorrow.”
“It's amazing that she's shown such an interest in music at such an early age! I mean, she's only two and a half years old, but already she's keeping better time than you are. Where do you think she gets it from?”
Asher chuckled. “Must come from your side of the family.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess it does. My mom was apparently a talented musician, and both of my grandfathers played several instruments, according to my dad.”
