by Amy Brent
I patted my pants pocket for my phone. There were no new messages besides for a few work emails, but I needed to call her to assure her that everything was fine. Her face had been pale all morning with apprehension. I don’t know what else Michael had said to her, but it had stuck to her.
Anger scorched me again when I thought of Michael’s sweaty, childish face sitting across the table from mine. I didn’t feel an ounce of regret tearing that boy’s balls from him. I had no time to let some young guy think that he could boss me around by dangling Violet in front of me.
“I hear you on that,” Jordan said, letting out a long sigh. “I can’t remember the last time I even went on vacation.”
“Years ago?”
“Years ago,” he repeated with a grimace. “I need to enjoy this money before I’m too old to remember how to even wipe my own ass. I can’t even remember what I had for breakfast this morning.”
“Cheers to that,” I said with a laugh. “Remembering how to wipe our own asses before we forget how much money we have in the bank?”
Jordan clinked his whiskey glass against mine with a grin. “Well, whatever you’re doing that is making you feel so young, I want it for myself. What’s the secret?”
I took a long drink of whiskey before looking up at Jordan with a tense smile.
“If I told you,” I said. “Then your wife would want a divorce. Let’s put it that way.”
Chapter 18
Violet
I tried my best to not check my phone anxiously throughout the evening, but it was hard not to. I had no idea what Cole planned on doing to Michael Foster, but it was clear that he planned to shut him up. Whether that was through him getting fired or pure intimidation, I had no idea. Cheryl was even confused when she divulged to me that Cole had asked to make reservations at Jordan’s for Michael and him.
It wasn’t a good sign, and it made me sick with unease as I paced about my apartment with my phone in hand.
My other phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. I glanced down at the caller ID with a sigh. Of course, my mom would be calling on a Friday night. She wanted to know what important people I was hanging out with. At least it would be a distraction from wondering what the hell was going on with Cole. Dinner with Michael would have ended almost three hours ago, but I didn’t want to risk calling him in the middle of their talk.
“Hi, Mom,” I chirped out in a forced cheerful voice. “I’m surprised to see you calling on a Friday night. Don’t you have a party to attend?”
“Not until tomorrow, darling. What are you doing home? I thought you would be out and about tonight.”
“I’m just taking a night off to rest,” I said and frowned when my stomach gave a painful lurch. “To be honest, I actually don’t feel too great. It’s been a very long week.”
“Your father was supposed to talk to Cole about working you too hard,” she said with an angry sigh. “What is he thinking? You’re not his slave to do all the work he doesn’t want to be bothered with.”
I’d gladly be his slave for the rest of my life. A shiver went up my spine at the thought of being dominated by Cole every day. My head throbbed when I thought of Cole coming over later. Not because I wasn’t happy to see him. This was a different type of unease and headache. I had felt it first thing this morning after Cole woke early to get back to his place to get showered and ready for the day.
I couldn’t place my finger on it, even though I wanted to believe it had everything to with Michael Foster blackmailing me.
“He’s not working me hard. I’m home on a Friday night when I could be in the office still with him.”
“I suppose that’s a good thing to hear. I still don’t understand why you wanted to go work at Crayton, Inc.”
“Work experience, Mom. We already talked about why I wanted to come here. Dad said it would be a good idea, well before you even knew about it.”
“I just miss having you here with me. It’s boring in this house when your father is out doing his business deals.”
“I’ll come visit soon. I promise.”
The line beeped. I heard my mom fumbled around with the phone to check the caller ID.
“I better go, sweetheart. It’s one of our neighbors.”
“Have a good night,” I said.
She hung up without a reply. Rubbing at my stomach, I sat down on the couch to pull my computer close. I checked through a couple of emails before Cole called shortly before nine.
“Hey,” I said, relief flooding through me. “I was worried that I would have to report you to the police for a moment.”
“More like it would be Michael Foster you’d have to worry about,” Cole said wryly. “I got caught up with a few friends in the city here. I didn’t realize it was this late until I stepped out to call my driver.”
“It’s honestly fine,” I said, smiling. “I’m so glad to hear your voice. Now, tell me what happened.”
“I made it clear that it was his word against mine. Who has the more powerful voice here?”
“Obviously, you are the one who does.”
“Exactly. He’ll finish his internship out as long as he keeps his mouth shut for the meantime. He doesn’t want me as an enemy right now.”
“No one does,” I agreed because having Cole Crayton as an enemy in the business world was not a great idea. “I’m glad it’s taken care of, though. I can sleep good tonight knowing that he won’t say anything.”
“In the meantime though, no more sex in my office,” Cole said. “So, don’t come in wearing those sexy skirts of yours.”
I couldn’t help but laugh, despite my queasy stomach. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to find something else to wear that won’t be so eye-catching to you.”
“You could be wearing a cardboard box, darling, and I’d still want to bend you over. What are you doing right now?”
“Sitting on the couch in my sweat pants,” I said. “Sounds sexy, right?”
“It is. Sweatpants are easy to get off.”
I bit my lip to keep myself from smiling like an idiot, even though I was completely alone. These were the times that I truly loved Cole—when he was relaxed and happy.
“Do you want to come over here for the night?” Cole asked. “I can whip us up some dinner or order in. Whatever you like, darling.”
A part of me was sorely tempted to put aside my stomach and exhaustion to just go see him, but the idea of driving to Cole’s penthouse drained what energy I had left. I also didn’t want to puke with Cole close by.
“I’m actually not feeling good,” I said, rubbing at my flushed neck. “I think I stressed out a bit too much over Michael today. Plus, you’re starting to wear me out a bit.”
“I’m wearing you out?” Cole repeated skeptically. “You’re kidding, right? I’m older than you.”
I giggled. “I know. I just don’t feel very good. So maybe tomorrow. I think I just need some sleep.”
“Then get some sleep if you really don’t feel good,” Cole said, his voice thick with concern now. “Call me if you need anything, but don’t worry about Michael. That’s taken care of.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Maybe we could have some breakfast in the city?”
“If you’re feeling better, then I’m fine with that. I’ll see you in the morning.”
My stomach and head had other ideas throughout the night and early morning hours. It seemed like every hour my stomach had to empty itself of water, or just even dry heaving. Every inch of my body ached. Even my own head throbbed dully, no matter how much Tylenol I consumed.
I managed to get in the shower shortly before 8:45 a.m. when Cole called to ask about breakfast.
“You’re still not feeling good?” he asked, the concern even stronger than before now. “Maybe you should go to the doctor or something like that. I can drive you if you need.”
I grimaced at the thought of puking in front of Cole. That was the main reason why I had declined seeing him the night before.
&
nbsp; “No, I’ll be fine,” I said. “I’m just going to lay low this weekend until it passes. I’m sure it’s just some sort of flu bug going around. It’s that time of the year.”
“I suppose you’re right. If you feel better, call me. I’ll be here in Manhattan all weekend.”
The nausea didn’t lift. Saturday night, I slept on the floor of the bathroom while Sunday morning, I didn’t even bother showering. Something wasn’t right. I could feel a change somewhere, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. After assuring Cole that I didn’t need to see the doctor, I pulled up Google to type in my symptoms to see what came up for the stomach flu.
“The stomach flu,” I read out loud, scrolling down the list. “Food poisoning, regular flu, early pregnancy—”
I stopped at those two words. Pregnancy. Heart pounding, I read through the rest of the symptoms. Sickness. Headaches. A dull ache in the pelvis. I sank to the bathroom floor with a shaky breath.
“Fuck,” I whispered, cradling my throbbing head. “It can’t be. I can’t be --”
Cole never uses a condom.
I gathered myself off the floor to grab my purse and keys. Sweeping my hair up into a messy bun, I didn’t even bother trying to look presentable. I hurried across the street to the corner convenience store to buy a three-pack pregnancy test.
My fingers trembled as I tore the plastic open to pee on the stick like the instructions said to do. Setting the stick on the edge of the sink, I opened the bathroom window to suck in deep breaths to calm my queasy stomach.
I couldn’t be pregnant. It wasn’t possible. It didn’t happen that fast.
Seven minutes passed. I picked up the pregnancy stick staring down at the giant plus sign with a sinking stomach. Pregnant. I was pregnant with Cole Crayton’s baby.
A torment of emotions washed over me as I sat down on the edge of the toilet to cry and laugh at the same time. This wasn’t happening. A part of me didn’t want to believe it, but that pregnancy stick proved it was real. I was pregnant with a baby. Cole’s baby.
And now I would have to explain to him how it happened.
I’m fucked. That was all I could think of when I texted Cole to tell him that I would be late coming into work Monday morning.
Your stomach isn’t feeling any better? He texted with a frowny face.
I texted back a puking face.
Not yet. I’ll be in as soon as I see the doctor. Oh, and I might be pregnant, too.
I deleted that last part of the sentence with a sigh. I had to tell Cole in person, but I needed to make sure through the doctor that I was actually pregnant.
Which meant that I would need to tell Cole that I lied about the birth control pills. It hadn’t even occurred to me throughout the past few weeks that we needed to be on birth control. It was the last thing on my mind—getting pregnant.
I chewed on the pad of my thumb nervously. I took the remaining two pregnancy sticks later in the afternoon. Pregnant. There was no doubt if there were three positive pregnancy tests.
What now?
The thought plagued me throughout Sunday night and the commute to the doctor’s office Monday morning. We were only a few weeks into a relationship, and Cole was already skittish enough about it. I filled out the paperwork in the crowded office before peeing in another cup in the small bathroom.
It was the doctor who came in to congratulate me with a large smile.
“It does appear from your blood work and urine test that you are pregnant,” he said. “Congratulations. You’re only a few weeks on, I’d say. Very early on in the pregnancy.”
“Thank you,” I said numbly. “What do I do?”
“One of the nurses here will explain everything to you,” he said, oblivious to what I was really asking. “Make sure to have your boyfriend fill out his side of the paperwork. We need a full history on him as well.”
I took the paperwork and bottle of prenatal vitamins in my purse to work. I had no idea how I was going to get through the day without giving away what I knew to Cole. I didn’t want to tell him in the office.
“Morning,” Cheryl said, and she frowned instantly when I looked up at her. “Oh, Vi. You still look sick. Why are you here?”
“I need the paycheck,” I said. “I’ll be fine. The doctor gave me some medicine for nausea.”
Which worked wonders thankfully. It just didn’t do a damn thing about the headaches.
“What did the doctor say?” Cheryl asked, setting a glass of water down on my desk. “I hope it isn’t the flu. I would hate to have you here and getting everyone else sick if that was the case.”
“He said it wasn’t the flu,” I said and sat down in my chair. “I’ll be fine. Where’s Mr. Crayton?”
“He had a meeting at eight this morning,” Cheryl said. “He hasn’t returned since, so I’m assuming the meeting ran late. I’m sure he’ll be here soon, though.”
“Right.”
I glanced over to find Michael’s desk empty. A small part of me felt a stab of smugness to see his chair and desk empty. I know that Cole had moved him somewhere else for my comfort, but also because he didn’t want to look at Michael every single day.
It helped a little knowing that Michael wouldn’t be watching our every move from now on. Not if he wanted to have a good job in the future once his internship at Crayton, Inc was over.
I took a small sip of water to ease my nerves. Michael wasn’t the one I was worried about, though.
My eyes caught sight of Cole coming through the elevators with a group of businessmen surrounding him. His dark hair, peppered with gray along the hairline, was slicked back as usual. He donned a much more casual outfit today. A pair of nice slacks and a loose white sleeved shirt that was rolled up to his elbows.
Cole stopped briefly at my desk while the line of businessmen went into his office. He glanced at the bottle of nausea pills on my desk.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
“Sort of,” I said. “They gave me something for my stomach.”
“Good.” Concern lingered in his eyes for a moment, but he glanced in his office to where the group of men was waiting. “I have to wrap this meeting up. We’ll talk after that, okay?”
“Okay,” I said, even though my stomach threatened to get rid of everything all over again at the thought of telling Cole the truth.
Chapter 19
Cole
Getting to talk to Violet alone didn’t happen for the rest of the morning or the afternoon. The day slipped by me quickly, meeting after meeting. I saw little of Violet who was either at her desk or helping Cheryl in the copy room.
After spending an entire weekend alone, I was seriously reconsidering that no sex rule in my office during work hours. My cock was hard the majority of the day whenever I did manage a quick glimpse at Violet, but it was pent up tension. I already could imagine how great it would feel to finally release a load when I got Violet alone.
And it wasn’t even just the amazing sex that I missed. I missed her company, too. I missed hearing her voice in the background of my day, or just being able to reach out and hold her hand.
My heart constricted when the realization washed over me that my feelings were starting to shift into something different than sexual attraction. It was caring. I was falling in love with her—harder than I ever thought. Falling in love with Violet complicated everything, but I was utterly powerless to it at this point.
I craved for privacy throughout my last meeting but forced myself to remain engaged. I couldn’t afford to let my thoughts stray anymore. It would have to be tonight since I didn’t have the chance to talk with her alone for more than thirty seconds in passing.
The color in Violet’s cheeks was finally returning when I managed to swing by her desk without anyone to overhear our conversation. She looked up at me with a strange expression that I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Are you feeling up to dinner tonight?” I asked quietly as I handed her a file to put away in the cabinet.
Violet’s fingers brushed up against mine. It sent electric shocks up my arm, but to my surprise, she pulled away to open the cabinet.
“Where do you want to eat at?” she asked.
“My place,” I said and looked up to see Cheryl approaching from the printing and copying room. “I’ll text you the address. Are you sure that everything is okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” Violet said, offering a small smile. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll see you for dinner tonight in a few hours.”
