by Edie Claire
Ben’s footsteps pounded up onto his porch. He opened his front door to see her standing in his kitchen, stirring a pot over his stove.
Hi, Honey. I’m home!
Haley’s cheeks flared further. She’d had no intention of setting up such a pat scene of domesticity. The idea was too funny. She was a working maniac — she was never home at dinnertime and hadn’t regularly cooked for herself, much less anyone else, since law school. She lived on energy bars, protein shakes, take-out, and anything that could be eaten straight from the fridge. The spaghetti sauce, her signature contribution to any family gathering, was a favorite of her Aunt Janie’s. It was also the one and only dish she could actually make.
She didn’t have to tell him any of that. She had admitted the same last night, and more. But she could tell from the startled, yet distinctly delighted, twinkle in his eyes that his coming home to find her in his kitchen was less than objectionable.
Too bad she was about to ruin his fun.
She said nothing. But as she looked back at him and he took in her expression, it was clear she didn’t have to.
“You’re leaving early,” he stated.
She nodded miserably.
“When?”
“Tonight.” She averted her face, presumably to stir the pot. “There’s been a major development with one of our biggest clients. Bob wants me in the office tomorrow, so I’m booked on an overnight flight. I have to meet with the executor of my uncle’s estate again, too, to give him back the keys and discuss what happens next.”
She turned her head slightly to brave a glance at Ben. His face looked every bit as wretched as she felt.
“What does happen next?” he asked, his voice strangely gruff.
She knew what he meant. She bucked herself up and lifted her chin. “I’m going to keep the property,” she announced. “I’ll buy Micah out if I have to, but I’m not going to let it go.” She attempted to smile at him. “So you can live here as many summers as you want. I won’t even jack up the rent… that much.”
He attempted to smile back at her. “In that case, I’ll be forwarding a list of requested improvements.”
Haley chuckled, despite herself. “Knock yourself out, Captain.” She swiped a drop of moisture away from one eye. Steam from the stove, no doubt. She wanted to answer his other question. The larger, implied one. But she didn’t have an answer. “This will be ready in fifteen minutes. Shall we eat on your porch or mine? I don’t want to miss out on that gorgeous view a second longer than strictly necessary.”
He stepped up and took the spoon from her hand. “Let me finish this, then. You go back outside and indulge yourself.”
Haley smiled her thanks. And then she obliged.
They enjoyed a pleasant-enough meal of the world’s simplest spaghetti (Janie was never a fussy cook) and kept their banter light-hearted, despite the gnawing pain that had settled in Haley’s middle. A part of her wanted to talk about it, to cry on his shoulder again, to explain how much the past few days had meant to her and how much she hated for them to end. But the feelings that alternately uplifted and pummeled her were too complicated to explain. Alaska had been awe-inspiring, and that awe had rejuvenated and soothed her. Having someone to talk to, a compassionate third party to whom she could unburden her soul, had been more helpful than she could ever imagine. But there was more.
She had feelings for Ben, and those feelings were no accident. They weren’t gratitude for his help, rubbed-off romance from the spectacular scenery, or even a healthy, lustful response to the fact that he was freakin’ gorgeous. She was falling in love with the man.
And now she had to leave him.
What else could she do? Despite the attraction between them, their relationship had yet to cross the line, and for that she was grateful. As things stood, they were friends. She could remain his friend even if they saw each other rarely. They could be friends who talked and joked and laughed, and maybe even sent bizarre packages to each other. They could be friends even when she was waddling around eight months’ pregnant with ankles like an elephant. They could stay friends even if he went back to Hawaii and shacked up with some suntanned blonde who surfed in a bikini.
“What are you thinking about, Haley?” he asked.
Her face flushed again. “All sorts of unpleasant things,” she replied.
He gathered up their dishes and opened the door.
“I can wash those,” Haley said quickly, getting up. “I feel bad enough about returning your linens dirty. I hoped to get to the laundromat before I left. Sorry about that.”
Ben frowned at her. “Would you stop? The dishes can wait and I don’t need the sheets. None of it matters. How much longer can you stay?”
Haley looked at her watch, and her spirits sank. It was later than she thought. Before he drove up the road, the day had seemed endless. Whenever they were together, time flew. She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I only have a few minutes,” she croaked.
Ben leaned into his cabin just far enough to dump the dishes on the counter, then closed the door and turned around. “Are you packed?”
Haley nodded. She had put everything in the car before he got home.
They stood silently a moment, just a few feet apart. Haley’s eyes roved over the landscape. If she looked in his eyes again, she knew she would cry.
“Oh, to hell with it,” Ben said roughly. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close. “You’re killing me, Haley. You know that?”
She collapsed against his chest, her own arms circling his waist. This time, she didn’t cry. He was wearing the same shirt he’d worn all day, and he smelled like the ocean. He was warm and strong and tender, and she was, for the moment, completely happy. In fact, she might never move again. “Likewise, Captain Parker,” she murmured.
“I don’t suppose,” he said tentatively, “you have any idea what we can do about it?”
She shook her head into his shoulder. No matter what other circumstances stood in their way, she was only going to get more pregnant. Her body was not her own. And it wouldn’t be for five long months.
As much as she was tempted, she couldn’t ask him to wait for her. She wasn’t even sure what he would be waiting for. Her job — her entire life — was in Newport Beach. And she couldn’t imagine him doing anything other than what he was doing right now. Being out on the water, migrating with the humpbacks, living every day in the most beautiful places in the world… it was all too much a part of him. It fed his soul. The vibrant, gentle, mirthful soul that had attracted her so much in the first place.
She could never take that away from him. She had no right to ask.
With a valiant effort, she straightened herself and pulled away a little. Then she made the mistake of meeting his eyes.
He felt the same way she did. And he wasn’t bothering to hide it.
“I guess my ‘just friends’ speech didn’t work so well, huh?” she cracked, taking another half step back.
His hazel eyes glimmered. “If it hadn’t, you think we’d still be standing out here?”
Haley laughed out loud. “Good point.”
The urge to kiss him was almost unbearable. If he leaned toward her so much as a millimeter, she would cave. But she knew it wouldn’t help anything. She could kiss him once or drag him back into the cabin for an hour, and the end result would be the same. They would wind up right back where they were now. Only then, the pain would be greater.
“I’m going to try to come back,” she said weakly. “I’m just not sure I’ll be able to get away from work.”
He nodded.
“How long will you be here?” she croaked.
“Until the end of September, give or take,” he answered. “It depends how long the weather holds.”
“I can’t make you any promises,” she whispered roughly.
“I understand,” Ben said flatly.
“Do you?” Haley asked, her eyes welling up with moisture again. She looked ful
ly into his face, hoping to memorize every detail of it. Involuntarily, she lifted her hand, then brushed her fingers gently across his cheek.
Ben caught her hand in his and pulled it away. Haley started a little in surprise.
“Don’t, Haley,” he said softly, his eyes nearly as moist as her own. “Not if we’re never going to see each other again.”
Haley stepped away from him, embarrassed. She wiped her eyes and grabbed her jacket from where she’d left it on his porch railing. “I agree to your terms, Captain,” she announced, clearing her throat. “But I’m afraid that never seeing each other again is not acceptable. We’ll have to renegotiate that point.”
She braved another look at him.
He smiled sadly back at her. “You know where I live.”
Haley could look at him no more. She stepped off the porch and down the stairs and walked to the door of her car. She opened it, drew her keys from her jacket pocket, and paused.
“Thank you, Ben,” she called without raising her head. “For everything. As much of a wreck as I seem right now, I feel a hundred times better than I did, and I owe it all to you. I hope you and the whales have a wonderful rest of the season here in Alaska, and a frolicking fine time in Hawaii.” Her voice threatened to crack again. “And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re able to live your dream. You deserve to do what makes you happy.”
She could tell that he had moved to the edge of his porch. “So do you, Haley,” he said softly. “So do you.”
She got into her car and turned the key in the ignition. She waved at him, once, as she pulled out of the drive and onto the road. Her vision was blurry, but she could see that he waved back.
She cried all the way to Anchorage.
NOT ALASKA
Chapter 19
Haley hung up her office phone for what seemed like the fortieth time since she had crawled into her desk chair early this morning. She had no idea what time it was. Her plan to sleep on the plane had been a dismal failure, and she had been operating on pure adrenaline ever since. If she had experienced a more impossibly demanding day in her entire professional life, she could not remember it. Of course, she could also not remember what she ate for breakfast this morning. Or for lunch.
A knock sounded on her closed door, and she responded to it mechanically, knowing from whom it came by its crisp timbre and relatively lower position in space. “Come on in, Ty.”
A petite African-American woman in her early forties slipped around the heavy oak door and approached Haley’s desk with her hands empty. Haley looked up at her with a quizzical expression. Tyrene always had something in her hands. A phone message, a memo, a padfolio. Too often, an entire banker’s box of documents. Indisputably the sharpest paralegal at the firm, Tyrene’s services were highly sought after, and it was a credit to Haley’s clout that she was able to enlist the woman’s services as often as she did. There was no doubt in the mind of anyone who worked with Tyrene that she should have been an attorney. Lack of finances and a disastrous early marriage had removed that possibility, but Tyrene was not one to bemoan the fact nearly as much as her coworkers. She simply did damn good work, demanded exorbitant compensation, and got it.
“What’s up?” Haley asked nervously. She didn’t care for the look in Tyrene’s eyes, which was distinctly sympathetic.
“I need to tell you something,” the paralegal said in her usual frank manner. She sat down in the chair beside Haley’s desk, rather than either of the ones across from it, and Haley swiveled to face her.
“Shoot,” Haley agreed. How much worse could the day get, after all?
“You know I don’t do gossip,” Tyrene began.
Haley nodded. When it came to matters of business, Tyrene had eyes and ears everywhere. Including — mysteriously enough — other law firms. But not once could Haley remember a word of personal gossip passing the other woman’s lips. They both considered such triviality to be not only unprofessional, but a bore.
“In this particular case, I’ve decided you need to know,” Tyrene continued. “Harrison has been flapping his jaws all day about how you took the week off to get a boob job.”
Disbelief came first. Then Haley’s entire body ignited with heat. She resisted the urge to look down at her jacket, whose buttons she already knew to be straining. They had been for weeks now. She had gained nearly two cup sizes. “I see,” she said steadily. Only Bob and the relevant personnel in HR knew about her pregnancy. She had no desire to advertise the situation any earlier than necessary. Evidently, she had waited too long.
Tyrene rose. “That’s all I’ve got to say about it.”
“Thank you,” Haley offered to her departing back. But as Tyrene put her hand on the doorknob, Haley spoke again. “I’m four months into a surrogate pregnancy for my sister and her husband. That’s all the information anyone in this office needs.”
Tyrene turned, her eyes showing more surprise than Haley expected. Whether she was surprised by the pregnancy itself, or by the bizarre nature of it, Haley wasn’t sure. Nor did she want to know.
Tyrene nodded once, sharply. Then she walked out and closed the door behind her.
Haley’s heart pounded as she fired off a stiffly polite email to Harrison, asking him to drop by her office whenever he got a minute. She had known from the beginning that she would eventually have to make her situation public. But did it have to happen today?
Her cell phone rang. She glanced at it with disinterest, then quickly focused her thoughts. Tim? Her brother-in-law almost never called her. Certainly not in the middle of a work day.
She answered. “What’s up, Tim? Is something wrong?”
He made no response for a beat. “No, Haley. I mean, nothing like you think. I’m sorry to bother you on vacation. But—”
“I’m not on vacation,” she interrupted. She cringed at the obvious impatience in her voice, but lacked the energy to control it.
“Oh,” he replied, pausing again. “I thought—”
“I haven’t told anyone yet. They think I’m still in Alaska. What’s up?” She should be more forbearing, she chastised. Her abysmal mood was hardly Tim’s fault. But with images filling her brain of herself turning the spit while Harrison’s snarky, well-dressed carcass roasted slowly over an open flame with an apple jammed in his mouth, she had difficulty sounding pleasant.
More silence ensued. Haley stifled a scream.
“You know I hate having to involve you in this,” he began finally. “But I don’t know what else to do. I’ve been trying my best to give Micah whatever she says she needs, but nothing I do is helping. She’s gone off the deep end this time and I don’t know how to reach her. I thought I understood her as well as anybody, but obviously I don’t.” His faltered a little. “So I’m asking you, Haley. She keeps telling me she needs space. But my gut is telling me that’s not really what she wants. I think she wants me to go after her.”
“Yes, Tim,” Haley said with relief.
He paused another beat. His tone hardened. “Does she expect me to guess that?”
“Yes, Tim.”
He swore, and Haley smiled to herself. She knew the man had a backbone buried in there somewhere.
Another knock sounded on her door. Not Tyrene this time. Someone brash and demanding. She ended the conversation with Tim as politely as possible, hung up the phone, and called for the person outside to enter.
Harrison.
“You wanted to see me?” he asked, his voice a little too loud for the venue, as usual. He stepped into her office with his typical cocky swagger, even as his beady little eyes betrayed apprehension. Haley was not his boss, but she had seniority, and as she rose and moved confidently to the front of her desk to face him, her every movement was designed to make sure he remembered that.
She leaned back against her desk and folded her hands loosely in front of her, making no effort to hide any part of her body. She looked straight into his eyes, satisfied to note that despite her slouching posture she w
as still taller than he was.
“I understand you’ve been showing an inordinate amount of interest in the size of my breasts,” she said coolly.
Harrison’s face flamed. For a man who aspired to be a shark, she had always found him embarrassingly easy to intimidate. He should work on that.
His mouth moved as if to say something, but no words came out. Haley felt a sudden wave of pity for him. The emotion surprised her.
“I’m four months into a surrogate pregnancy for my sister and her husband,” she explained, using the exact words she’d just spoken to Tyrene. “And I have nothing else to say on the topic, to you or anyone else.” She straightened and stood. “Thanks for dropping by.”
She turned her back to him and took a leisurely stroll around her desk to her chair. By the time she sat down, he had disappeared. The door clicked softly closed behind him.
Haley allowed herself a smile. Ben would have enjoyed that, she thought. She could picture his face in her mind, chuckling along with her. Her spirits buoyed.
Then they crashed all over again.
Ben was thousands of miles away. She would not see him tonight, or any night even remotely soon. Besides, she had work to do.
A mountain of it.
Suppressing a sharp pang of bitterness, Haley buried her head behind her laptop and applied herself to her work. After an untold number of hours, the steady stream of incoming phone calls and emails as well as the ambient office noise abated somewhat, and Haley cast a glance toward her clock. The dinnertime hours were often when she got into her best groove. But that would not be happening today. She could feel the last of her adrenaline-fueled energy draining away and realized, with foolish surprise, that she was exhausted.
