by Brenda Novak
“What are you talking about? I do believe that.”
“No, you don’t. That’s what this boils down to, why you work so hard to keep everyone at arm’s length. You don’t trust love. But we’ll revisit that when you’re sober, since you probably won’t remember any of this, anyway.”
“I can’t believe it,” he muttered after taking another swallow.
“What’d you say?”
“Nothing. It’s a boy, did I tell you that?”
“No, but that’s cool. Maybe he’ll play ball like us. So, how about you stop drinking now? It’s time to put away whatever you’ve got.”
Hudson pictured the crib he’d built in the nursery at Ellie’s. “I’m going to love my son.”
“You will.”
“Doesn’t matter that I’m not ready for him—or that this isn’t the ideal situation.”
“Exactly,” Bruiser said. “You’ll do what your parents didn’t. Rise to the occasion. I’m convinced of that. But you have the money and you have the time. Maybe they had neither.”
That could be true. But could anyone be justified in treating a baby like garbage? Couldn’t they at least have taken him to a fire station or a hospital? Why hadn’t they?
That was the question, what he was dying to know. If his mother lived in Beverly Hills, she’d most likely had access to money or to family who had money.
Hudson wanted to explain that, but after he heard Bruiser say, “If you could cut them some slack, maybe the rejection you feel wouldn’t hurt so badly,” he lost track of the conversation. Or he might’ve passed out, because the next thing he knew, the sun was shooting daggers through the blinds, stabbing him in the eyes, and his head felt like it was about to explode.
16
Ellie stretched as she woke up. She’d slept the entire night, hadn’t had to get up once. All her flu symptoms were gone and her stomach felt normal. “Finally!”
She kicked off the covers and hurried out of the bedroom to get something to eat—she was happy to think she might actually enjoy a meal—but stopped halfway to the kitchen. This wasn’t just another Tuesday when she’d head over to the lab as soon as she’d eaten and showered. Her colleagues didn’t know she was out of the hospital, weren’t expecting her quite yet, anyway. But now she had to quit her job, say goodbye to Amy and her work associates, pack her bags and close up her house.
Should she call her parents, too? Was it time to tell them she was pregnant?
No. She’d planned to wait until she was seven months, and she’d stick with that. She couldn’t handle telling them today, not on top of everything else—especially because she’d also have to tell them she was moving to California so her son could live near his father, who happened to be the star quarterback for the Los Angeles Devils. Since they’d heard about Don’s relationship with Leo and her broken engagement, but nothing beyond that, they’d be shocked about the baby. Shocked that she was giving up her postdoc and moving out to the opposite coast. Shocked that she’d somehow gotten intimately involved with a man she’d never even dated.
She wasn’t looking forward to explaining how that had occurred. Until she was absolutely certain she’d be staying in California, there was no point in having that conversation, anyway. She’d probably wind up back in Miami. She had no guarantee that she’d like California, that she’d be able to adapt to it or that Hudson would remain interested in their child. Once she got out there, he could decide he missed his old life and ask her to leave.
Imagining that convinced her it wouldn’t hurt to wait a bit longer to tell her parents—when she felt more stable and confident in the direction she was taking.
When she’d had some scrambled eggs and toast, she pulled out her laptop and settled at the kitchen table to compose her resignation letter. Leaving the BDC wasn’t easy. But every time she felt she shouldn’t do it, couldn’t quit, she came to the conclusion that she really didn’t have any choice. She couldn’t be as committed as they needed her to be right now. They had so many great things going on. And a job with such long hours wouldn’t be ideal for the baby.
After she’d finished writing her email, she reread it several times before summoning the nerve to send it.
After it was gone, she closed her laptop and buried her face in her arms. “I hope I haven’t just destroyed everything I’ve built so far,” she mumbled. She knew how hard it was going to be when she went in to gather her things and say goodbye...
Amy came over at lunch to see how she was doing and helped Ellie choose what to take with her. She insisted Ellie pack the dress she’d worn to Envy, but Ellie knew how impractical that was. Most of her clothes wouldn’t fit in another month or two—and that dress would be one of the first things she’d have to put away.
“It could come in handy after you have the baby,” Amy said when Ellie almost returned it to her closet. “He lives a more glamorous lifestyle than you do. You’ll have to quit being so practical and spend some money on clothes if you plan to keep up with him.”
But she didn’t plan to keep up with him. He might not even want her to...
Rather than argue, Ellie shrugged and closed her suitcase. “Why not? Doesn’t take up much room.”
“You don’t agree that you might need it?” Amy said.
“I’m not sure what I’ll need.” At least with Hudson paying her five thousand a month, she could buy a few things when she arrived in California. Shopping would give her something to do, since she would no longer be happily immersed in trying to help Dr. Towers bring her innovative islet cell encapsulation technique to clinical trials. As she’d told Hudson, she liked to read, liked to research. There’d never been a time when she hadn’t been pursuing some new academic goal.
God, she was going to miss the lab. Now she’d be without her career, would simply be serving as an incubator for her baby. Would that be enough to keep her from feeling useless?
“You can handle a year. A year isn’t that long,” Amy assured her when Ellie expressed her concerns.
Ellie pretended to agree, but she still had misgivings.
“I’m going to miss you, El. I hope you know that,” Amy said when she had to return to the salon for some late-afternoon appointments. “I’m sorry I ever took you to Envy.”
“Don’t be. This is an adventure,” Ellie said, trying to remain positive.
Amy frowned. “One with far-reaching consequences.”
“Life can get messy.”
“Not yours. Yours has never been messy, because you never do anything wrong! Maybe that’s why I feel responsible. I encouraged you to be bad.”
Ellie laughed ruefully. “Amy, this one’s all on me. I wanted Hudson—and I acted on that. Now I have to live with the aftermath.”
“Who wouldn’t want a man like Hudson? That wasn’t a fair test.”
For a moment, Ellie remembered the way he’d undressed her and the feel of his strong body against hers, but quickly shoved that out of her mind. “It could be worse,” she said, turning away so Amy wouldn’t see her flushed cheeks.
“True. You could’ve gone home with some dirtbag instead. I mean...there are a lot of good-looking guys in the world who turn out to be losers or flakes, even drug addicts. You wouldn’t want someone like that to be the father of your baby. They aren’t all famous football players, you know.”
Thinking of Hudson’s tirade in the motel quashed the arousal she’d been feeling. “The only downside to Hudson being so rich and famous is that he has the money and power to crush me if he chooses to. Someone as indulged as he’s been over the past decade might not be easy to deal with if I ever have to oppose him.”
“He hasn’t been bad so far, has he?”
“No.” But, for the most part, she was giving him what he wanted; he had no reason to react negatively. Amy had conveniently forgotten
what had happened at the motel.
“Good. Well, stay in touch. And let me know when you’d like me to come visit.”
“I will.”
After Amy was gone, Ellie looked around. She’d thought it would be difficult to get ready. She was moving across the country. But she led such a simple life, especially since she’d found out about the pregnancy, that there wasn’t all that much to do. She’d already quit her job. Stopping by the BDC wouldn’t take more than an hour or so. With Amy’s help, she’d packed. Clearing her social calendar, alerting her landlord to keep an eye on the place while she was gone and forwarding her mail would take ten minutes at most. She didn’t plan on having her utilities turned off or doing anything else even semipermanent until she’d spent a few weeks in California and felt safe about taking those steps.
At three, she checked her phone. She hadn’t heard from Hudson all day. What was he doing? Did he have friends in the area? Perhaps he was out golfing with other NFL players. In September, he’d come to the club with two guys, hadn’t he? She was almost certain he’d texted at least one friend when he led her out the back way at Envy. But he’d probably been with members of his own team that night, guys who were most likely in Los Angeles right now...
What was she thinking? Even if he didn’t have any football buddies here, someone like Hudson would never want for company. She wasn’t sure why she kept worrying that he might be at loose ends—except he’d been genuinely kind to her when she was sick. And he’d seemed so crestfallen when he left last night. She’d gotten the impression he’d hoped she’d go in a very different direction on the casual-sex issue. Why wouldn’t he hope for that? Commitment-free sex sounded good to most men. Heck, sex with Hudson sounded good to her, too. She’d thought so much about the night they’d shared, fantasized about running into him again. But it was a risk she couldn’t take. She had to protect her heart or she might not be able to tolerate their relationship at some point, and for the sake of the baby, she had to tolerate their relationship for quite some time.
She figured she owed him the offer of dinner, though. He was, after all, a visitor to the area, and he’d come because of her.
He’d turn her down, she told herself. Even if he wasn’t out golfing, he had the money to eat anywhere, and there were so many top-notch restaurants in Miami. But, determined to show him the same courtesy she’d show any other friend who was so far from home, she texted him.
I’m not much of a cook, but the few things I make are decent. If you’re not out seeing the city or doing something else fun, you’re welcome to come to dinner. No pressure, though.
If he said no, she’d be off the hook. She could relax and enjoy one last evening in her home without feeling she was being discourteous.
His response was almost immediate, though. What time?
Eek! Was he seriously considering it?
Seven?
Sounds good. Can I bring anything? Maybe some nonalcoholic wine or dessert?
No. I’ve got it, she wrote back. Then she grabbed her purse. She needed to go by the BDC and then to the store.
* * *
Hudson showed up in a lightweight, V-neck sweater that made the most of his muscular torso. His well-worn jeans didn’t hug his body quite as tightly, but they hinted at the assets he possessed below the waist. Ellie tried not to let her jaw sag when she answered the door. Physical beauty was just physical beauty, she told herself. She had her head on straight. But it didn’t help that he was also freshly showered and shaved and smelled even better than Don always did.
“Hi.” He seemed a little tentative. That wasn’t like him, but they were both in uncharted territory, didn’t quite know how to treat each other, and given who he was, she found that uncertainty boyishly charming.
“Thanks for coming.” Somehow Ellie managed to sound normal, even though her mouth had gone dry at the sight of him, and her heart had started to pound. Her own reaction scared her, made her fear she was in over her head. How could she ever protect her heart from a man like Hudson?
She didn’t have any choice except to try, so she opened the door wider to admit him.
He’d brought flowers—a huge tropical bouquet containing ginger, birds of paradise, some type of orchid and a couple of other flowers Ellie didn’t recognize.
“These are gorgeous,” she said, taking them from him as he stepped past her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He handed her a small Cartier bag she hadn’t noticed.
“What’s this?”
An eager smile curved his lips. “A small token of my appreciation.”
“For...”
“For being willing to make the sacrifices you’re making. I realize you’re getting the worst end of the deal. I don’t have to move, and I get to keep my job.”
“I won’t be able to work in a few months anyway, so it’s logical that I should be the one to relocate. I’ll get through it. You don’t have to buy me gifts.”
“I want you to know that this next year won’t have to be miserable, despite what you’re giving up. I may have come off rather...stingy at the motel, but that’s not who I am. I’ll be generous with you.”
He’d purchased jewelry—at least, that was what Ellie assumed. “I appreciate that. I really do. But I can’t accept anything.”
His smile faded. “Why not?”
“Because I’d feel...I don’t know...as if I’m cashing in on what happened in some way.” She handed it back to him. “Thank you, though. I appreciate the gesture.”
His eyebrows shot up. “You won’t even open it?”
“No. Your money is your money. I don’t want any of it—well, no more than I have to take to get through the next year. I have the ability to make my own way, and I’ll do that as soon as the baby’s old enough for me to return to work. Until then, the amount we agreed on will certainly be adequate.” She held up the flowers. “I’ll take these, though. I don’t see anything wrong with you making a small contribution to dinner.”
He acted stunned, as if he’d never had a woman turn down a gift. “So what am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, raising the bag.
“Can’t you take it back?”
“I didn’t ask. I never dreamed I’d have to.”
“If that’s not a possibility, maybe you could give it to one of the women you’re dating—if it gets serious enough. I know you said you don’t have a girlfriend right now.”
He gaped at her. “At least open it before you say that.”
She wanted to—if only to satisfy her curiosity. But if she saw what it was, she might be tempted to sacrifice her ideals, and she knew Hudson wouldn’t respect her in the long run if he felt she was capitalizing on his wealth or status. “Probably better if I don’t.”
“Why? I found the perfect thing. I think you’re going to love it.”
She was fairly certain she would. But she refused to put herself in the position of having to feel grateful to him. And why risk putting him in the position of feeling she was a little too interested in what his money could buy? Obviously he’d met a number of women who’d made him leery of that kind of parasitical behavior, or he wouldn’t have reacted as he had when she’d told him about the pregnancy. “That’s the problem.” Giving him an apologetic smile, she took the flowers into the kitchen to find a vase.
When he didn’t follow, she could tell he wasn’t happy, but she didn’t know what else to do. She couldn’t accept his gift. Judging by the brand and the packaging, it was far too expensive. “Do you like seafood?” she called back, hoping they could just move on.
He appeared at the entrance to the kitchen. “Are you still holding a grudge?”
“For...”
“The motel?”
“Of course not. Don’t mention it again.”
“You know I beli
eve you? Believe the pregnancy was an accident?”
“I do, and I’m glad about that, since it was an accident. But I still can’t accept any gifts from you. Why give you any reason to doubt my motives? Besides, you can afford better presents than I can, and we need to keep things as even as possible, especially since I have to take a salary from you. What if you start to resent that?”
“I won’t resent that.” There was an edge of irritation in his voice. “It was my idea, the only way I could be part of the pregnancy.”
“Well, what you’re paying me is enough. Come in and sit down. I can’t speak for you, but I’m hungry.”
Shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe her obstinacy, he tossed the Cartier bag on the counter.
She flinched as she heard it hit the granite but didn’t comment. She figured it was best to drop the subject. “I made crab bisque,” she said, attempting to cajole him out of his disappointment. “It’s one of my favorite recipes, something I learned from my mother. I hope you’ll like it, too.”
“I’m easy to please,” he muttered, but his heart obviously wasn’t in that statement. It took most of the meal to get him to put aside the fact that she wouldn’t accept what he’d bought at Cartier. But she felt she’d accomplished it by the time she told him about the encapsulation technique she’d been helping to develop at the BDC.
“Your eyes light up when you talk about your work,” he said as if he reluctantly found that interesting.
She took a drink of water. After being sick so recently, she had to be careful; she wasn’t going to eat anything other than the soup and pomegranate salad she’d prepared—and she’d gone light on the soup, since it was so rich. “What can I say? I love what I do. I believe immunology will change the world. I can’t wait to see a cure for diabetes—and so many other diseases.”
“You’re nothing like the other women I’ve known.”
“How am I different?” She grinned. “Let me guess. Less silicone? No spray tan?”
His mouth quirked. “Forget it. Now I’m not going to give you the compliment I was about to.”
