She had so many plans for the restaurant’s development, there was no time for a baby. A baby. It was too much to even think about right now. Her life had tilted off its axis with just one stupid mistake. She needed to take stock, find her feet again, to pour herself into something familiar. Even though it was one of her days off, she decided to go into the kitchen and work tonight. She couldn’t stand to be alone with her thoughts right now.
Blair peeled off the small dressing that had been secured over her vein where the blood sample had been drawn. The last thing she needed when she went downstairs was for someone to ask her why she’d had blood tests. She would deal with her pregnancy, and Draco, when she absolutely had to.
Draco seethed silently as he listened to Blair refusing to see him. Even as tired and jet-lagged as he was, he couldn’t wait to see her again, get her into bed. Unfortunately, she didn’t appear to feel the same way.
It frustrated him intensely that she could be so flippant about the connection between them. Not even with Marcella had he felt such passion.
“Blair, didn’t you miss me?”
“I did. But it’s crazy busy here at Carson’s right now. We’re fully booked for weeks. We even have a waiting list for diners. Can you believe it? To be honest with you, I’m so tired at the end of each night, it’s all I can do to get up the stairs and go to bed.”
There was a brittle note to her voice he didn’t like.
“Are you brushing me off, Blair?”
“Of course not. It’s like I told you. I’m really just too busy to see you, and to be honest, Draco, I just don’t have the energy to put into seeing you right now.”
“So you’re saving all your passion for your work?” he asked lightly, even though inside he was a tumbling roil of rage. “Your dedication is admirable, but what about you?”
“I’m fine. I’m happiest when I’m busy like this. It’s what I’ve always wanted for Carson’s, and the rumor is that Bill Alberts was very impressed with his visit here. His online review is due out later this week.”
Again, there was that almost-false tone to her speech.
“Blair, is there something you’re not telling me? You sound different. Please, let me pick you up tonight and take care of you.”
His body hardened as he remembered the first time he’d done just that. Could it only have been just over three weeks ago? It felt longer, just as the past five days and nights in Adelaide had felt longer too. He’d missed Blair on every level, and he had planned a reunion that would satisfy all her senses, not to mention tide them both over for when he had to return soon to Italy. It was disappointing that she wasn’t as keen to reunite as he was.
“Blair?” he prompted again in response to her silence.
He heard her draw in a deep breath and exhale heavily before she spoke.
“Look, it’s probably better this way anyway. The restaurant is taking all of my time right now and then some. Besides, you’ll be gone very soon, and we’d have to say good-bye all over again. I think we should cut our ties before things get too messy.”
“Messy?” he asked.
“You know, emotional and all that.”
So she thought the life, color and passion in their relationship lacked emotion? He bit against the growl that rose in his throat. More than anything, he wanted to refute her words, needed to coax from her the truth she wouldn’t admit to herself.
He’d loved and lost before. When Marcella had died he’d known grief, but it had been heavily laced with guilt. Guilt that he hadn’t loved her enough or understood her enough to realize that she would go so far as to risk her own life to give him what he wanted. A sharp pain lanced through him at the memory. It hadn’t been just one life, but two.
Marcella should never have gotten pregnant, but she’d hidden from him the details of her congenital heart defect that made pregnancy dangerous, and in her second trimester, she’d paid the awful price for loving him. At a time when most women glowed and blossomed, Marcella had become hypertensive and frail. When her beautiful, generous heart had failed, taking her life and that of their unborn child, Draco had sworn to honor her memory and had promised he wouldn’t pass on passion if it presented itself. He may not be ready to love but he certainly couldn’t deny the chemistry he and Blair shared.
He cleared his throat before speaking. “And are you telling me there is nothing emotional in our connection?”
“There can’t be. I won’t be that kind of person. It takes too much from me and what I want to do.”
“Can you deny that since we have been together your work, your creativity, has bloomed into something that people now stand in line to appreciate?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Is it ridiculous when you shake with pleasure in my arms? Is it ridiculous when we share an incredible bond at that moment I enter your beautiful body?” He pressed as hard as he dared without making her hang up in his ear.
“Draco, please. Stop.” Blair’s voice shook.
“Stop? Blair, that sounds suspiciously like emotion in your voice. Without emotion, cara mia, we don’t really live. Believe me, I know.”
“As do I, and I know what I don’t want. I’m sorry, Draco. This really has to be good-bye.”
The soft click in his ear severed their connection, and for an instant Draco felt that break through his body. He gripped the phone so tight in his hand the plastic squeaked in protest. Slowly, deliberately, he replaced the handset of his phone on its cradle.
Well, as his old professor was always fond of saying, there was more than one way to skin a cat.
Blair made her way out of the lobby of the post office where she’d just picked up her mail. Absently, she flicked through the envelopes as she walked back to her car. Bills, bills—there’d been a time when that fact would have worried her, but not now. The daily receipts were through the roof and the much-coveted and long-awaited five-star review had been posted on the Fine Dining Web site. Life had never been better.
Except for the issue of her pregnancy. It had been a week since her confirmation. Five days since she’d severed contact with Draco. She was still in turmoil about whether she should tell him or not. Her favorite option right now was not, even if it was horribly wrong. He deserved to know, but she didn’t want to tell him. She had no doubt he’d want to take control of her life at that point, and that was not going to happen. Not now, when she had everything else running exactly as she’d imagined when she took Carson’s over from her dad.
Blair stopped in her tracks as she came across a high-quality envelope that had been hand-addressed to her. She flipped it over to see who the sender was and frowned as she identified the name as her landlord’s lawyers. She’d dealt with them over the lease for Carson’s when her name had been substituted for her father’s as the lessee. What on earth could they want from her now?
She unlocked her car and sat down, dropping all the suppliers’ invoices on the passenger seat before hooking her finger under the seal and ripping the envelope open. Her eyes scanned the contents of the letter once quickly; then again as she read more slowly, the words sinking in with mind-numbing dread.
The lawyers had been instructed by the owners of the converted villa which housed Carson’s that the property had been listed for sale.
She bashed the palm of her hand against her steering wheel in frustration.
“Damn, damn, damn!” she shouted, garnering some strange looks from passersby.
What if a new owner wanted to use the building for something else? They weren’t bound by the lease she had with the current owner, an elderly widow. She scanned the letter again for any indication of who might have listed the property, but there was nothing. She’d have to call the lawyers and ask them. She had to find out how much her landlord wanted for the building. Maybe, just maybe, on the coattails of her current success and with the money she’d managed to save, she’d be able to raise a loan to buy the building herself?
The next day, des
pite not having been able to get ahold of the lawyer dealing with her landlord’s affairs, Blair walked as confidently as she could manage into her bank manager’s office. She laid out her position and showed him the financial statements for the business, supplemented by her past month’s receipts. After much discussion and juggling of numbers, the bank manager leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers together. Blair’s stomach clenched in a knot of nerves.
“Well, Ms. Carson, I think we’ll be able to help you out.”
He named a figure that made Blair’s heart swell with hope, even as her brain shrank back in horror at the requirements to meet such a loan. She couldn’t even begin to think how she’d meet the repayments if she had to slow down her workload later in her pregnancy, or how she’d cope after the baby was born.
“Now, I suggest you put an offer together to your landlord’s lawyer based on what we’ve discussed today.” He stood up and offered his hand across the table. “Good luck. I look forward to hearing from you so we can get the paperwork drawn up.”
“Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised. Now you go and make that offer and call me when you hear back, okay?”
“Yes. Yes I will.”
Blair almost ran back to her car, barely able to suppress her excitement. The trip back to her apartment passed in a blur. She raced up her back stairs and flung open the door, scrabbling for her phone on the side table before the door was even fully closed behind her.
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop as she was put on hold, the piped music setting her teeth on edge. She was almost on the verge of hanging up to call back and leave a message when the phone was answered at the other end.
Blair wasted no time in getting to the point.
“It’s Blair Carson here, I received a letter from you regarding the possible sale of the building I lease from Mrs. Whitcomb. I’d like to put in an offer based on pre-arranged finance.”
Blair named the sum she and the bank manager had agreed she could afford. He’d suggested she offer lower and then come back with another figure if the vendor counter-offered, but Blair just wanted the place so much she went in with her highest bid. She curled the cord of the phone around and around in her fingers as she waited for the lawyer on the other side to respond.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Carson. But Mrs. Whitcomb has already accepted an unconditional offer.”
“I beg your pardon? But I only got your letter yesterday.”
“Yes, the letter was a formality required under your tenancy agreement, however at the time of writing it, the property had already been sold.”
“But—”
“As I said, Ms. Carson, I’m terribly sorry. Mrs. Whitcomb was more than happy with the offer and has signed the transfer papers.”
“Who…who bought the property?” Tears spiked in Blair’s eyes—hot, burning tears of anger and frustration.
“I am not at liberty to disclose the identity of the purchaser at this time.”
“And their plans for the building? Have they said anything about that yet?”
“Not yet, Ms. Carson, but might I suggest, as a precaution of course, that you consider where you might relocate to, should the necessity arise.”
Blair hung up the phone without saying good-bye and sank to her knees. The tears were coming thick and fast now. Relocate? How the heck would she do that? Suitable property in Ponsonby was in very high demand, and with her patronage now at an all-time high, to shift to another suburb could spell total ruin for Carson’s.
Raw sobs tore from her throat as she allowed the devastation of the lawyer’s words to take full effect. What the hell was she going to do now? Not even when Rhys and Alicia had betrayed her had she felt this distraught, this dispossessed.
It was late afternoon by the time she managed to pull herself together. Downstairs she could hear the noises of preparation in the kitchen. It would be another busy night and she needed to pull herself together and get down there.
Blair dragged herself through a quick shower and put on her double-breasted chef jacket and checkered trousers before lacing up her shoes.
A sense of inevitability settled on her shoulders. What would be would be. She’d find some way to get around whatever the new owner wanted. Besides, why automatically assume that they wouldn’t want to keep her on? Carson’s made an excellent tenant. Feeling slightly buoyed by the thought, she made her way downstairs.
Gustav bailed her up the minute he saw her.
“What’s up, sweetie? You look like you’ve been through the wringer. Is it your Italian? Do I need to deal with him?”
“No…no, it’s not Draco. We’ve stopped seeing one another anyway. It’s—”
Blair’s chin started to wobble and Gustav led her straight into her office, pushing her gently down on her chair. He squatted down in front of her and took both her hands in his.
“C’mon, sweetie, let it out. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“The building’s been sold. I tried to buy it but they said it had already been sold.”
“But they can’t do that,” Gustav protested. “Don’t you have to be given notice?”
“I got that yesterday, but I thought I’d have time to put an offer forward, that as the tenant I might stand a better chance to buy the property. But it was too late.”
“And what about your lease?”
“It’s with the previous owner only.”
“So it’s simple. We renegotiate with the new owner, yes? No need for tears. They’d be mad to lose us here.”
“But what if they wanted the building for something else? What if—”
“It’ll be okay, just you wait and see. Now dry your eyes and get back into that kitchen. We’ve got an amazing night ahead.”
“Hey, who’s the boss here?”
“I am,” Gustav answered with a cheeky smile. “I just let you think you are most of the time.” He went to leave her office.
“Gus?” she called, making him stop and turn around. “Thanks. I’ll see if we can set up a meeting with the new owners and negotiate a new lease in the next few days.”
“That’s my girl,” Gus said with a wink.
The night was chaotic but satisfying. By the time Blair laid her head on her pillow she was too exhausted to even think, let alone dream up possible scenarios for Carson’s.
The morning dawned bright and clear—one of those incredibly crisp autumn days that made the sky so blue you felt as if you could stare into its ceiling forever.
Blair contacted the lawyer again and requested a meeting as soon as possible with the new owners. The lawyer said he’d need some time to sort it all out, but when he rang back just before she went into the kitchen, he sounded just as surprised as she did that the new owner had agreed to meet with her the next morning.
She could barely keep her mind on her work, she was so apprehensive about the meeting. But she tried to channel Gustav’s positivity, as if by hoping for a positive outcome, it could genuinely make it happen.
The night seemed endless, even after she’d done her final rounds and locked everything up—even after she’d showered and lay in bed for hours, staring at the dark painted ceiling above her.
Finally it was morning. She dressed with extra care, wanting to present the most professional impression of herself and the restaurant that she could.
They’d agreed to meet in the dining room itself at ten, and Blair was pacing back and forth between the tables, wondering for the umpteenth time whether she should have changed from her only suit—a severely cut black number with which she’d teamed sheer black stockings and low-heeled shoes, eschewing a blouse underneath for a wisteria-blue silk camisole she’d treated herself to in Italy—into something less dramatic. The waistband on her skirt was snug, the first visible indication of her pregnancy. She rested her palm against her lower belly. Her baby—Draco’s baby—was growing. She wouldn’t be able to ignore it for much longer.
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The rap at the door made her jump and she wheeled about, taking a second to smooth her hands down over her jacket, giving it a little tug to straighten the edges, before moving across the floor to welcome her new landlord.
“You?” she gasped as she pulled the door open.
A chill ran through her body and the blood drained from her face and dropped to her feet. Draco’s frame filled the doorway, his face as dark as thunder, his brows a thick, straight line, and his lips—normally bearing the slight curve of smile—were set in lines that didn’t bode well for Carson’s, or for Blair.
Seven
“Who else? I couldn’t get you to agree to see me any other way. I’m not above using my wealth and influence when I have to. You’d do well to remember that in future, cara mia.”
“Don’t. Don’t call me that. I’m not your darling, your lover. Your anything.”
Suddenly it occurred to Blair that antagonizing Draco was probably not the best thing to have done under the circumstances. A roiling wave of nausea rose from the pit of her stomach. She spun around and flew toward the women’s restroom, her hand over her mouth, tears once more streaming down her face.
In a toilet stall she fell to her knees and retched until her stomach was empty.
“Here.”
A folded wet paper towel was pressed into her hand from behind her. Oh no. Had Draco followed her in here? Witnessed her embarrassing loss of control?
“When you’re feeling okay I will be waiting for you outside.”
There was a tone to his voice that left her in no doubt that he wouldn’t wait long. She freshened up as quickly as she could, rinsing out her mouth before she straightened her jacket again and checked her appearance in the mirror.
Her pantyhose were laddered from the knees down. Well, there was nothing she could do about that right this minute, aside from remove them altogether, and she didn’t think he’d wait while she did that. There was one thing about Draco of which she was certain: when he wanted something, or someone, he wanted them right now.
Secret Baby, Public Affair Page 6
