Baby for My Brother's Friend

by Nikki Chase

  She tells the media that she does it to feel closer to her daughter, whom I’m keeping from her. Which is bullshit, of course. She never cares about Penny, except when she thinks she might be able to use our daughter to get something out of me.

  Marrying Ashley is my one biggest regret in life. There’s no way for me to justify that decision.

  I could live with it if it were just me who’s affected by it, but I’ve brought Penny into the world and inflicted her with the fate of having Ashley as her mom.

  We got together when we were still in school. High school sweethearts, they used to call us.

  Unfortunately, in my experience, the term often refers to couples who started seeing each other when they were too young to understand how relationships work, and then end up staying together out of habit and fear of being alone.

  I’m not saying that’s how it is for everyone, but that’s what happened to Ashley and me.

  We didn’t plan on having Penny; it just happened. So we improvised. We made a commitment to each other because we both thought it was the right thing to do.

  We were naïve, penniless, and inexperienced. But I put everything I had into making it work. I was a father, and I had to put my daughter first.

  I spent all of my time working. I always had more than one job at a time, although every single one of them paid me the bare minimum. I had to struggle to get enough shifts so I could make a decent living to support my small family of three.

  At twenty, I had to grow up and be responsible. I had to leave my youth behind, even though I still felt like a teenager inside. I wasn’t even old enough to drink alcohol yet.

  But I did it. I did it because I had to.

  Ashley didn’t see it that way, though.

  She criticized me for not making more money. She wasn’t happy being stuck at home with the baby all day. She felt entitled to a better life, even though she hadn’t done anything to deserve it.

  So, right when I was at my lowest point, she left me. She didn’t care that I needed her—not emotionally, because her attitude had killed any feelings I’d had for her.

  But I needed her in my life because of Penny. My daughter was the only good thing left in my life, and Ashley took her away when she left.

  I guess, in a way, both of us were using each other.

  But we were young. So young. Way too young.

  Our friends were off to various colleges all over the country, having wild keg parties and sleeping around.

  Meanwhile, we were parents. We were sleep-deprived and we barely had time for anything remotely fun. Our carefree days were behind us.

  I understood why Ashley wanted to leave. Hell, I wanted to leave, too, sometimes. It was hard as hell.

  But I couldn’t. Penny was my priority, and I wasn’t going to sacrifice her well-being just to sate my own selfishness.

  Still, I was in no condition to take care of Penny at the time. I was a complete mess.

  So Ashley took Penny with her and I let her, thinking she’d be better off with her mom.

  But then I learned just how incompetent Ashley is as a mother. She had boyfriend after boyfriend, letting them get close to my daughter without thought of how that would emotionally affect her.

  So I got my act together. I was determined to get Penny back, and I didn’t care what it would take for me to get there. I was going to be successful, and I was going to have the money I needed to hire the best lawyer I could find.

  Surprise, surprise, guess who wanted to get back together once I got filthy rich? That’s right. Ashley. The same woman who had walked away from me without a second thought.

  As soon as she heard from my lawyer and Googled me, she was calling me and texting me, telling me we could work things out.

  “Let’s do it for Penny,” she told me.

  Bullshit.

  All she wanted was a chump to give her all the money she needed to support the kind of lifestyle she wanted. She aspired to be one of those idle women on those Rich Housewives reality shows.

  After giving up on me, Ashley managed to find another man to rope into marriage. Her second husband was some guy whom she thought had money.

  In a hilarious twist of fate, the guy thought Ashley was the one with the money. When they both realized what they had done, the whole thing quickly imploded.

  When I learned what had happened, I couldn’t help but laugh at her misfortune. She deserved it. The guy deserved it, too. They both got what was coming to them.

  I should thank that guy, really. Him and all the other guys who had fucked Ashley. Because they helped my lawyer build the case that Ashley’s life was too unstable to be a good environment for a child to grow up in.

  Once I hired that lawyer, getting Penny back was as easy as taking candy from a kindergartener. He was good, and now I have a whole team of even better lawyers.

  I thought Ashley had no chance in hell to even try to win Penny back. Her reputation was in the dumps, after the court had recorded how her life was basically made up of a string of bad decisions.

  But now she’s trying to get back at me. She’s attacking my reputation in an attempt to get Penny because she knows that’s the best way to hurt me.

  She wouldn’t have been able to do half the damage she’s doing right now if it weren’t for Lucas Murdoch. Fucking asshole screwed me over and still has the gall to blame me for everything. Now, he’s even dragging my ex-wife into it, in his attempt to soil my good name.

  I absent-mindedly swirl the glass in my hand. I watch as the whiskey spins inside, the ice cubes clinking against the glass.

  “We have to stop men like Ethan Hunter together,” Ashley says passionately on TV. She sounds as confident and convincing as a televangelist. No doubt the women who watch this show would eat up whatever shit she feeds them.

  “He ruins small businesses and robs people of their livelihoods. He’s destroying people’s finances, making it even harder for American families to survive in this economy. He’s destroying the very things that make America great.”

  Wow. I have to hand it to whoever her media coach is. She’s really painting me as a monster. I wouldn’t be surprised if she starts calling me the anti-Christ at this point.

  “Do you know the worst thing Ethan Hunter has ever done, though?” Ashley asks the studio audience as the host looks at her with concerned eyes, leaning forward in her chair.

  Yeah, Ashley. Tell them. Tell them whatever false tale you’ve spun about me. You’ve got them wrapped around your finger now.

  “It’s destroying his own family. That’s the worst thing he’s ever done,” Ashley says, answering her own question. “Being cruel to strangers is one thing. But when a man tears his own family apart and keeps his own daughter from even seeing her mother? That just speaks volumes about his character. A man like that can never be trusted. In anything.”

  Yeah. That’s the mother of my child, ladies and gentlemen.

  I raise my glass, nod at the TV, and take another sip.

  Congratulations, Ashley. And thank you for the character assassination.

  Luckily for me, deliverance is near. And it comes in a pretty little package called Megan Jones.

  Megan

  I can’t believe what I’m about to do today. I’m actually going to marry the monster who has been haunting my nightmares for eight years.

  Ever since that day, when Ethan Hunter threw out my entire family from his office, nothing has been right in my life.

  My parents have never even held hands after that day. And the following month, they closed down their business, breaking their lease.

  Ironically, the sale that they held to get rid of inventory attracted more people than ever into their toy store. Leeches and parasites, all of them, feeding on our misfortune.

  Not long after that, Dad disappeared. Mom never explained where he’d gone, and I was old enough to understand that she didn’t want to talk about it.

  Looking back… I don’t know. Is thirteen old eno
ugh to understand all the nuances of the breakdown of a marriage, especially one between my own parents?

  It wasn’t just a regular divorce either. Dad just up and left us—not just Mom, but me, too. He was never the most caring or attentive dad, but I also never expected him to bail on us like that.

  I guess that’s men for you. They saddle you with responsibilities and run away when it all becomes too much.

  We had to fend for ourselves. As much as she hated the mall, Mom could only find work there. But as desperate as we got, she never once applied for a job at the Toy Kingdom.

  “I may have to see it every day on my way to work and then on my way home, but at least I don’t have to go in there,” she used to say.

  Mom was starting to climb back up from rock bottom. Even though she was only earning minimum wage, we had enough to live on. But she never learned her lesson about men. She started dating this loser called Frank, and he’s been dragging her down ever since.

  I’ve always thought Mom would be better off without men, but she needs someone so desperately she’s willing to risk everything. She seems to feel like she needs them for survival, even though from my perspective, I could see she could make it on her own.

  Sure, Frank used to have more money that Mom did, and he occasionally helped with the bills.

  But he soon became unemployed and dead broke, spending his days brewing in his own filth on the couch. Mom would go out to work, only to come home to nag Frank to go out and find work himself. But why would he, when he already has everything they need without working?

  It seems like a miserable existence, and I don’t understand why Mom would choose to live like that.

  This is why I’ve sworn off all men. I’m not going to let a man use me and take me for granted.

  I enter Mr. Hunter’s office, where I’m met by Eliza, Lana, a man I don’t recognize, and the monster himself. A drop of doubt diffuses throughout my chest, but I tell myself I’m doing the right thing.

  I’m here on a mission.

  I’m not going to let him use me.

  Instead, I’m going to use him.

  I’m going to use him and discard him.

  He’ll get what’s coming to him, what I’ve sworn to do to him, ever since that day.

  I never thought I’d have to marry him to exact my revenge, but sometimes plans change.

  Getting even closer to my enemy while gaining more of his trust could only be a good thing.

  Ethan

  “I thought you were going to wear white, at least,” I say when my bride walks through the door into my office.

  Megan gives me a polite smile, but she doesn’t look amused.

  She’s a strange one, this hot little bride of mine. I can’t figure her out. Sometimes she’s shy and sweet, and other times she’s detached and almost downright resentful. It’s not about the words that she says because she keeps things professional; it’s just a gut feeling.

  But what do I know? I haven’t had much luck with women, have I? After Ashley, I’ve just never felt like trying again, even though my wealth attracts plenty of women into my life.

  Actually, maybe it’s exactly because these women are attracted by my wealth that I’m not interested. I don’t want any more Ashleys in my life. I had one and I still haven’t managed to fully get rid of her yet, despite my best efforts.

  “Take a seat, Megan,” I say, hoping she’d sidle up next to me.

  “Thanks, Mr. Hunter,” she says as she sits her sexy ass down on the couch across the table from me.

  I can’t deny that I’m attracted to her. She’s smart, beautiful, and hot as hell. Even Penny seems to like Megan enough to want her as her fake new mom.

  Sure, none of this is real, and Penny came up with this crazy plan on the spot. But she must be aware that she might be spending much more time with Megan, if her plan were to work.

  And now, as five adults convene around a coffee table in my very serious, very grown-up office, I can’t help but chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

  “Anything wrong?” Lana asks with a confused frown.

  Obviously, Lana’s under too much pressure to see the humor in the situation. It has only taken her forty-eight hours to get an officiant and gather all the documents needed to unite Megan and me in the sacred bonds of marriage. She has also invited Eliza to this simple ceremony so we’d have the required two witnesses.

  “Nothing. Everything’s perfect, Lana. Don't worry,” I say, not wanting to distract her attention from the stack of papers in front of her.

  We’re just puppets, all five of us. There’s a puppet master moving the strings behind the scenes, and she’s a ten-year-old girl who still has to turn on her nightlight to sleep.

  “Alright, everyone’s here, so we can start now,” Lana announces.

  The wedding officiant is young; probably no older than mid-twenties. Lana said she picked him from some website because he was the only one who’s available on such short notice. He casts his gaze all around, regarding the rest of us one by one.

  Poor guy seems bewildered by how business-like everything is, and I don’t blame him. We’re even having it done at an actual office. No family, no friends; just a media spokesperson and an attorney—talk about absurd!

  I bet he has a thousand questions running through his mind, but I’m sure he’s not going to ask any of them. Knowing Lana, she has probably sworn this guy to secrecy and made him sign a non-disclosure agreement.

  He has been paid a lot of money to cancel all his other appointments. If this hadn’t been such an emergency, I would’ve felt bad for all those real lovers who had woken up this morning thinking they were about to get married, only to be stood up by their minister.

  Come to think of it, those couples should thank me instead.

  Marriage is no fun, and I wouldn’t do it again if it weren’t for a possible PR disaster that could lead to me losing my daughter.

  I’ve had Lana prepare a thick stack of pre-nup agreement to make sure that Megan will only walk away with the two-hundred thousand dollars per year that we’ve already agreed to.

  How many brides and grooms can honestly tell me they’ve insured themselves against the likely event of divorce?

  Everybody should know by now that fifty percent of marriages end in divorce; and yet almost a-hundred percent of couples wouldn’t even think about that likelihood before it’s too late.

  “Shall we stand up?” asks the officiant as he gets up from the couch. “Let’s do this over there,” he says, pointing at an empty space where there’s no furniture.

  We all get up and stand where he directs us to go.

  “Please face each other,” he says as he puts his hands on my shoulder and Megan’s. He gets us to stand face to face, about one foot apart.

  This may sound crazy, but I want to grab his wrist and threaten him with violence when I see him touch her.

  You know what? It doesn’t just sound crazy. It is crazy. I’m acting crazy.

  Megan is not even my wife yet. And even if she is going to be legally my wife, this is just a ruse. A ploy to fool the public into thinking that I have the perfect family—the ideal situation for raising a little girl, because obviously a single man can’t also be a great dad.

  The wedding officiant glances around to make sure everybody’s ready. When everyone has finished squaring their shoulders and adjusting their clothes, he says, “Friends and family of Megan Jones and Ethan Hun—”

  Jesus, he’s actually going to do the whole thing? How long is he going to drag this out for?

  “I like Lana and Eliza just fine, but they’re not my friends or family,” I cut him off.

  He seems taken aback, but what’s the use of pretending that we’re having a normal wedding?

  “Uh… Okay… Umm…” He stammers as he wildly scans the script written on the piece of paper he’s holding, searching for the relevant bits.

  “Just read out the entire thing,” I say, sighing. At this rate, it would t
ake more time to wait for him to decide which parts to leave out, rather than to listen to the whole damn thing.

  “Okay,” he says with relief. “Friends and family of Megan Jones and Ethan Hunter, we are gathered here on this important day…”

  As he drones on, I let my gaze rest on Megan. She may not be wearing white, but she looks better than many actual brides I’ve seen, even if she doesn’t dress herself any differently than any other work day.

  She’s captivating. Her green pencil skirt outlines the curve of her hips and ass clearly, while her light, loose blouse keeps her outfit from being too sexy for the office.

  I wish she’d make an exception today and go all out without worrying about being office-appropriate. Technically, she’s not here as my personal assistant today, but as my bride. I don’t know if that makes any difference to her, though, seeing as both count as work to her.

  “Please repeat my words, Mr. Hunter,” says the wedding officiant. “I call upon everyone present here…”

  “Do we really have to do this?” I ask. I really don’t see why we need to say these words, when nobody here believes that we’re doing this for real anyway.

  “The sooner you say it, the sooner we can finish,” Lana says, giving me a look that tells me she has tried reasoning with the guy and failed.

  Apparently, this guy, who has canceled all his wedding appointments at the last minute just to make more money, draws the line at officiating a wedding where vows are not said.

  Weird.

  But, okay.

  I concede to the wedding officiant and repeat the words, deliberately not paying attention to the meaning behind them. They remind me too much of the vows I once made to Ashley in another lifetime. I don’t like to think about that moment, when I made one big mistake that would follow me for years to come.

  I thought there was no other way at the time because Ashley was already pregnant with Penny. But we were always fighting. On our wedding day, we already hated each other. A blind rat in a house full of cats has better chances of survival than our marriage ever did.

  It never occurred to me that we could co-parent without being married to each other.