by T L Swan
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He frowns at the floor. “I have no idea.”
Empathy wins. This is a lot for him to get his head around.
“Can we have lunch today?” I ask.
“I’m going to the children’s hospital after my rounds. I have a patient over there to see.”
“Can I come? We could maybe stop for coffee?” I smile hopefully.
“Ashley, we have nothing to say to each other until you quit working at the club. I can’t stand it. I can’t handle the thought of you being there with other men.”
“Were you going to have sex with someone else last night?” I frown.
He screws up his face. “No. Of course not. Another woman is the last fucking thing on my mind.”
“What were you doing there then?”
“I was drinking with friends and just about to leave.” He shakes his head as he tries to articulate his thoughts. “I thought I’d get a lap dance to put me in the mood so I could jack off and release some tension when I got home.”
I watch him.
“I didn’t expect you to be there, Ash,” he replies shamefully.
I pick up his broken hand and inspect it again. I rub my fingers softly over his swollen skin and he frowns.
My poor, beautiful man is in pain and the overwhelming urge to fix him takes over.
“I miss you,” I whisper as my eyes search his.
He closes his eyes in pain. “Please… don’t.”
“Cam.” I lift his hand and kiss it gently. “You need some x-rays. Let me look after you.”
A knock sounds at the door and we jump back from each other. I quickly pick up a file from the desk as a prop.
“Come in,” he calls.
Dr. Jameson pops his head around the door. “Cam, do you have a minute?” He smiles when he sees me. “Hello, Ashley.”
“Hello.” I smile. I hand Cameron the file and go to leave the room.
“Ashley?” Cameron calls.
I turn. “Yes.”
“Don’t forget it’s your turn to come to the children’s hospital with me after my rounds this morning.”
I smile softly. “Okay.” I turn and leave.
Finally, we get to talk.
I follow Cameron out to his car in silence.
I’m not sure how this coffee date is going to go. I’m feeling vulnerable and needy and I know I need to cut this shit out. I should be furious, but I just miss him so much. I want to hold him and tell him I love him. I want to beg him to accept us both.
But I won’t. I could never be that woman. My pride would never let me.
My phone pings with a text and I stop to read it.
Hi, Ashley. It’s Natasha.
Can we have lunch today?
Don’t tell Cameron!
My eyes widen. Shit.
“What time will we be back, Cam?” I ask him as he walks up in front.
He shrugs. “A couple of hours. Why?”
“Will we back here for lunch?”
“Yes. I’m in my office for appointments this afternoon from twelve so I will drop you back here about quarter to.”
I smile. This might work out because I can pretend I’m still with him when he goes to the office and get back here at one. I text back.
That would be lovely.
I can meet you at 12?
There is a café called Zooms o
n Harris Street?
A text bounces straight back.
Great.
See you then
x
We approach his car and I look at the smashed windshield. It’s still intact, but totally destroyed. He rolls his eyes and gets in, annoyed.
I get in and slam the door. “What would possess you to punch the windshield?” I ask as I put my seatbelt on.
He clenches his jaw as he pulls out of the parking lot. “It was either the windshield or the bouncers.”
Hell, that would have been bad.
We pull into the traffic. “You’re not going back to that job, Ashley.”
I frown as I watch him and screw up my face. “I hate that job, Cameron. Stop making it sound like it’s a choice”
“Then why do it?” he barks.
“Why do it? I’ll tell you why I do it… to put a roof over your son’s head, that’s why I fucking do it!”
He glares at me.
“I moved Jenna here from New York to babysit Owen while I work, on the condition that I will pay the rent so she can study from home.”
He clenches his jaw as he watches the road.
“I support three people, Cameron, and I’m on a trainee’s wage. My salary covers rent and food only. No bills, no car expenses, no preschool fees.”
He frowns at me.
I shake my head in exasperation. “I don’t have a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car. I don’t own a multi-million-dollar property investment portfolio. I live week to week.”
He goes to turn the wheel and hits his hand, quickly wincing in pain.
“You need to get x-rays,” I snap.
“Stop changing the fucking subject,” he yells.
“Stop screaming at me like I’m a child. You need to get used to the fact that I work, and until I find another job, I’m staying where I am.”
He shakes his head as he drives. “You don’t go back there or there will be hell to pay.”
I narrow my eyes and shake my head. “Is this your idea of a conversation? Is it? Because this is my idea of you being a complete brat and demanding that I bow down to your every command.”
His angry eyes flicker to me. “Brat?” he yells. “You are a mother and you work in a brothel.”
I shake my head. “And you’re an idiot. Don’t bother going for coffee. We have nothing to talk about.”
“Oh, yes we do,” he huffs as he pulls the car into a parking lot.
I fold my arms in front of me in anger. This fucking man infuriates me.
“Get out.” He growls as he climbs out of the car and slams the door.
I sit for a moment and then he rips my door open. “Get. Out.”
I narrow my eyes and climb out of the car and he slams the door behind me and storms into a coffee shop. He goes to the counter and orders our coffee while I take a seat at the back of the café.
I blow out a breath as I try to calm myself down. Calm down. Calm down. My heart rate is through the roof.
Nobody on Earth has the ability to boil my blood like Cameron Stanton.
He sits down opposite me, and his hand hits the table as his jaw ticks in anger.
What must we look like? Him in an expensive three- piece suit and a broken hand the size of a football, and me, a firecracker about to explode.
“Did you get me cake?”
“Yes, bitch pie.” He snaps back. “With added arsenic.”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my smirk.
He remembers something. “Oh.” He fumbles around in his suit pocket and brings out a piece of paper and hands it over. “I printed this out this morning. I need your signature.”
I read the piece of paper and I frown.
Births, Deaths and Marriages
Application for name change.
“What’s this?” I ask.
“I want his name changed,” he replies flatly.
“What?” I screw up my face. “Is that all you’re worried about? That he carries the Stanton name?” I push the piece of paper back to him aggressively across the table. “How about you worry about getting to know him?”
“About that.” He smiles on cue at the waitress as our coffees arrive. She shakily puts them down on the table. “Thank you,” we both murmur. She then returns with my piece of cake.
“I will pick him up tomorrow morning,” he tells me.
I frown. “What for?”
He widens his eyes. “To sell him on the black market. What do you think?”
I roll my eyes and pick up my coffee.
“I’m taking him to Willowvale to Jos
hua’s for the weekend.”
“What?” I shake my head. “Oh no, you’re not.” I widen my eyes. He’s on crack if he thinks that’s happening.
He leans forward like he’s the devil himself. “I’ll do what I want. He’s my son and you can’t stop me seeing him.”
My blood boils over. That’s it. “You are not taking him anywhere with the Stanton children yet. They are strong willed and domineering. They will eat him alive, and in a strange house, he just won’t cope.”
He screws up his face in disgust. “What do you mean?”
“He’s an only child, Cameron. He’s soft and sweet and gentle, while those kids...” I shake my head and stop to get my wording right. “They’re beautiful kids, but the first time you meet him is not the time to put him into a situation where he will be uncomfortable.”
“He’ll be fine.”
I slam my hand down on the table. “And that’s exactly why you’re not having him. This he’ll be fine attitude is not how you parent.”
“And working in a brothel is?”
“Cut the fucking shit,” I snap as I look at the tables around us.
He leans in so that nobody else can hear. “Let me tell you one thing, Ashley fucking Tucker. You brought him into my life. You lied to me about it and you...” He pauses as he sits back in his chair. “Will have no say in how I bring him up.”
“The hell I won’t.” I shake my head. “If you want to get dirty, Cameron, you won’t fucking see him at all.”
He narrows his eyes in contempt. “I dare you to try and stop me.”
I sit back in my seat as a fission of fear crosses over me. For the first time in Owen’s life, someone else is fighting for him.
I don’t like it.
I don’t like it at all.
I think on it for a moment as we sit in silence. “You can come to my house tomorrow and spend time with him.”
He glares at me.
“You don’t have a backseat in your car, so you can’t drive him anywhere, anyway.” I sigh.
“I’m telling him,” he says.
“Telling him what?” I ask.
“That I’m his father.”
“What?” I snap. “He thinks he has a father.”
“That’s a man you dated. It’s not his fucking father.” He sneers.
I sit back in my seat and blow out a breath. God, what a mess?
“Fine. Tell him, but I want to be there.”
My phone rings and I glance at the screen to see it’s Owen’s preschool.
“Hang on a minute. It’s Owen’s preschool,” I murmur as I answer. “Hello.”
“Hello, Ashley, it’s Katrina from the Preschool.”
“Hello, Katrina. Is something wrong?” I ask.
“No, everything is fine.”
I put my hand on my chest in relief as Cameron watches on.
“I just noticed this morning that when you filled out your emergency contacts, you only put yourself and Jenna.”
“Yes, is that okay?” My eyes look up at Cameron and he frowns.
“We need four emergency contacts. It’s accreditation policy.”
Shit. “You need four emergency contacts?” My eyes are still on Cameron. “Can you hang on a minute, Katrina? I will just grab the numbers.”
I put the phone down and cover it. “I need two emergency contacts for the preschool. Who will I put? I only know Jenna in town,” I whisper.
“Me.”
I watch him think for a moment.
“And Adrian,” he adds.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” he snaps, annoyed. He brings the numbers up on his phone and passes it to me. I blow out a breath and go back to Katrina.
“Um, can I add Cameron Stanton, please?” I ask.
“Yes, sure. What is his relationship to the child?”
I close my eyes as my stomach turns. “He’s his father.”
Cameron sits back in his chair as the enormity of that statement hits us both, and my eyes rise to the ceiling.
“Next one?” she asks.
“Um.” I pause for a moment. “Adrian...” Shit, what’s his last name?
“Murphy,” Cameron whispers.
“Murphy,” I add.
“And what’s his relationship to the child?”
I close my eyes and blow out a deflated breath. “Family friend,” I reply meekly.
I give her the numbers and then hang up.
I feel like I just lost a round with Mike Tyson. I have effectively lost control of this situation and I feel like packing up and running away in the middle of the night.
I sit and eat my cake in silence and Cameron seems deep in thought, just like me.
“When is his birthday?” Cameron asks.
I smile softly. “January fifth.”
His eyes hold mine. “He’s turning five?”
I nod.
“He starts school next year?”
“Yes.”
He frowns. “He’s not enrolled in school yet?”
“There’s plenty of time for that. It’s only June.” I reply as I sip my coffee.
“Not the school that he will be going to. He should have been enrolled at birth.”
“He’s going to a public school, Cameron.” I frown.
His face drops in horror. “No, he’s not. Over my dead body is he going to a public school.”
“Why not?”
“I’m paying for it, so what’s it to you where he goes?”
“I don’t want a spoiled brat of a kid.”
“It’s an education, Ashley.”
“With a bad fucking attitude if his father is anything to go by.”
He glares at me as his jaw ticks. “Listen to me, Ashley, and listen good. This is a warning. Do not go back to that club. You are bringing up my child. The fathers of Owen’s future friends go to that club, and I will not have you disgrace our family.”
I sit back, shocked at his audacity. I watch him for a moment and finally reply, “You go there, Cameron.”
He glares at me.
Tears fill my eyes. “This is why I don’t want my son anywhere near your rich boy culture. In my world, you stay loyal to your wife,” I whisper. “You love your wife with your whole heart.”
His eyes hold mine. “When I meet her, that’s what I intend to do.”
Pain slices through my heart.
If he hit me with an axe, it would have hurt less. I stare at his blurred face through tears.
I’ve got nothing.
I stand and push my chair in. “Let’s go.” I murmur sadly.
There’s no comeback for that, there’s nothing I can say that makes that comment from him hurt less.
I need to get away from him.
He’s destroying me blow by low blow.
I walk nervously out into the sunny courtyard of Zooms; the place I have arranged to meet Natasha. I don’t know if she comes in peace or with a weapon, but I’m hoping since she asked me not to tell Cameron, it may be in peace.
I look around at the busy tables and I see an arm fly up. I glance over to see Natasha and Adrian sitting in the corner.
Shit. Adrian’s here. My heart starts to beat at double speed and I walk over to the table. “Hello.” I smile as I pull out the chair.
Adrian smiles and stands and kisses my cheek. Natasha gets up and comes around to my side of the table to hug me.
I close my eyes against her shoulder and my stupid eyes tear up. Damn it. Don’t be nice to me, I’m on the edge.
I sit down, embarrassed, and wipe my tears as they both look on in sympathy.
“I’m… I’m sorry,” I stammer. “I’m ridiculously fragile today.”
Adrian smiles and reaches out to take my hand in his. I squeeze it and feel like howling to the moon.
“Are you alright?” Tash whispers, concerned.
I wipe my eyes again. “I am until someone is nice to me.” I laugh. “So stop being nice.”
Adrian smiles cheeki
ly. “Okay, what’s up bitch?” he asks and we laugh.
“Oh God.” I shake my head. “You two must think I’m a piece of work.” I sigh.
“Not at all,” Tash replies. “But we are wondering what the hell is going on?”
I shrug. “Basically, my life is one big fuck up.” I sigh and the waitress brings over three Diet Cokes.
“Oh, we ordered a salad for you. Is that okay?” Natasha asks, concerned. “We knew you would have to get back to work quick.”
“Thank you.” I smile and I look between the both of them. “I don’t know where to start…”
“At the beginning.” Adrian smiles as he continues to hold my hand in his.
I blow out a breath. “Okay, so I met Cameron in Vegas.”
“Yes, I was there. I met you that night,” Adrian replies.
I nod and smile. “He walked by when this sleazy guy was trying to hit on me, so I grabbed Cameron and introduced him to this man as my husband just to get rid of him.” My eyes flick between them as they both listen on. “That started some kind of fun game between us. He was calling me his wife and he was putting bets on what he could make me do. He told me he was a mechanic and I was calling him grease monkey. Stupid shit like that.”
“Oh God.” Natasha rolls her eyes.
I laugh. “He was fun and we hit it off instantly. I was a total slut and ended up back at his room having wild sex all night.”
They both look at me blankly.
“In my defence, I hadn’t had sex in two years and… and he was the drought breaker,” I stammer.
The both laugh.
“Anyway, we were speaking to each other in French and German, and we just had this instant connection. He took my number and we arranged to meet the following weekend.” I pick up my drink and sip it. “But he never called—”
“He lost his phone,” Adrian interrupts.
“I didn’t know this until just last week,” I reply.
They keep listening.
“Anyway, sixteen weeks later, I was feeling really weak and my stomach was swollen. I just felt like shit so I went to the doctor.”
Their eyes meet.
“Turned out I was pregnant and seeing as I hadn’t had sex with anyone for two years before Cameron or since, a condom must have broken and I knew it was his baby. Only thing was… I didn’t even know his real name.”
