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Baby Makes Three

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by Chance Carter




  Baby Makes Three

  A Personal Fantasy

  Chance Carter

  Contents

  Copyright

  Baby Makes Three

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  BABY MAKES THREE

  chance carter

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  copyright © 2017

  Baby Makes Three

  A private fantasy

  Baby Sinclair stepped out of her yellow cab and hurried across the sidewalk into the building. It had been raining heavily all day and she’d already had her share of getting wet.

  “Can I help you, Miss?” a stern voice with a British accent said from across the lobby.

  A doorman in uniform was sitting at a desk looking at her through his glasses.

  “I’m here to see the Saragossa brothers,” she said.

  “Are you expected?”

  It had been a long day and she was feeling a little more impatient than she should have.

  “Well, am I on your list?” she said defiantly.

  She knew she was expected and the doorman knew it too. He was just throwing his weight around.

  He looked her up and down, no doubt assessing the cost of her clothes. She’d just bought the shoes and coat on sale and Bloomingdale’s and her dress was from JC Penney. Probably not what he was expecting but what did she care, he was just the doorman. She’d been personally invited.

  “Name?” he said.

  “Baby,” she said, walking past him to the elevators.

  He let out a little laugh but Baby ignored him. She’d heard enough jokes about her name to last a thousand lifetimes. She doubted this guy was going to come up with anything original.

  “Very good, Miss,” he said.

  She waited for the elevator and when it arrived she stepped in without looking back. She pressed the button for the penthouse and only then realized the elevator was made of glass. It shot up a few floors in darkness before emerging into the night sky like a rocket. All around her, the Manhattan skyline sparkled like so many stars.

  She looked out at the lights of the city, an orange glow cast over everything in the rain. When the elevator finally stopped she was high above the rooftops with a stunning view west over Central Park.

  She took a deep breath before stepping out of the elevator. She didn’t like to admit it but she was nervous. She knew nothing about the mysterious Saragossa brothers other than what she’d heard in the news.

  They were fabulously wealthy but also fiercely private. Since arriving in New York from London, they’d amazed the city with their extravagant real estate projects. The building she was in now, the tallest skyscraper overlooking the park, was just one of their many creations. It spiked a hundred stories into the air and sent a beam of light up into the sky as if it was searching for spaceships.

  It wasn’t their wealth that made Baby nervous though. It was their status. They were royalty, members of the aristocracy. She’d seen photos of them in the South of France with the British royal family and had read exposés about them in People Magazine. They were rumored to be heirs to some small kingdom somewhere in Europe but she couldn’t tell for sure where it was or whether the rumors were true.

  And they were sexy. So sexy. New York’s most eligible bachelors. London’s most eligible bachelors. Wherever they went, women swooned. They were wanted by a million women on both sides of the Atlantic and it was obvious why. They were charming, dashing, and the fact they shied away from the limelight only added to their allure.

  They’d never been spotted in public with women ever. Both brothers were unmarried and, as far as the world knew, completely unattached. They attended social galas and events alone, just the two of them, not a date in sight. The topic came up on talk shows and celebrity gossip columns but what could anyone say? It was all just speculation.

  Were they secretly married? Were they hosting private orgies in their penthouse, or in their private villas in Europe? Was it all just an act to get attention?

  All Baby knew was that in her experience, no one with their fame could keep a secret for long. If they really hosted private parties filled with beautiful women, someone would have leaked a photo on social media by now. If there was a scandal, someone would have broken the story. The fact there had been no such leak either meant they were even more secretive than she thought, or they really never got with any women.

  She stepped out of the elevator and checked herself in the mirror in the corridor.

  Her hair was a mess and she straightened it out. What was she doing here?

  This wasn’t her world. This was way out of her league.

  Baby Sinclair was a single, twenty-five year old girl who shared a cheap, Brooklyn apartment with her cousin Klara and had never done an extraordinary thing in her life. She was a private detective but not because she loved adventure or wanted to fight criminals in the dead of night. She did it because she couldn’t afford to go to law school and the next closest thing she could find was a three hundred dollar correspondence course her cousin had signed her up for last summer called, How to Become a Freelance Private Eye.

  She’d taken the course, doing the homework in the Starbucks by her apartment, and turned in her assignments by email every Friday. After three months she received a photocopied, very unofficial looking document that said, “Graduate of the New York Institute of Private Eyes.”

  She and Klara had made fun of the certificate when it arrived. She remembered Klara holding it up to the wall and doing an impression of Dick Tracey. It was all so innocent. So harmless. They’d created a website without really thinking it would go anywhere and then, out of nowhere, an email from Tony Brixton arrived, summoning her to the penthouse.

  She still couldn’t believe she’d had the guts to show up.

  She felt like a complete fraud.

  Her hands were trembling. Her palms were sweating. But if there was one thing Baby Sinclair was not, it was a coward.

  She walked up to the intricately decorated brass door of the apartment and knocked firmly.

  “Come in,” a man’s voice called from inside.

  She tried the door and it was unlocked. She opened it and stepped into the most fabulous, opulent apartment imaginable. It was all white marble and gold accents. Light reflected off everything, making the entire room sparkle like the city’s fabulous skyline outside the windows. The view extended across the entire length of the room.

  “Hi,” she said, completely helpless as to how she was supposed to act.

  “Please,” the man said, “come in.”

  She shut the door behind her and stood there, taking in her surroundings. She recognized the man. He was Tony Saragossa, in the flesh. Up close and in person, he was even sexier than she’d dared to imagine. He was tall and muscular with blue eyes and sandy hair. He stepped toward her and took her coat.

  “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “I know this place is a little overwhelming, trust me. My brother’s the interior decorator.”

  He took her coat.

  Baby let out a little laugh, more from nerves than from the joke. Tony’s Spanish accent made her swoon as much as his sexy body did.

  “Can I get you something. A cup of tea?”

  Baby laughed again.

  “What?” Tony said.

  “It’s nothing,” she said. “Just, it’s so European.”

  “What is?”

  “To offer tea.”

  It was Tony’s turn to laugh. “Right, right, yes. I should have said, you want some cawfee?” he said, doing an excellent job of butchering a New Yorker’s pronunciation of coffee.

  “What’s all this?” another voice said, comin
g in from the balcony.

  Baby felt her knees quake. It was Jack, the other brother. He was every bit as sexy as Tony, with the same perfect accent, perfect body, perfect everything. His eyes were blue too but his hair was darker than his brother’s.

  “The detective’s here,” Tony said. “Jack this is …”.

  “Baby,” Baby said, finishing the sentence for him.

  “Right, yes, Baby. Baby this is my brother Jack, and I’m Tony.”

  “Tony Saragossa,” Baby said, letting the sounds flow from her mouth like music.

  “That’s right. And you’re Baby Sinclair, according to the website.”

  Baby nodded.

  She took a deep breath and followed Tony over to some leather sofas in front of a huge, lit fireplace.

  “Can we get you something to drink?” Jack said, pouring himself a scotch from a crystal bottle at the bar.

  “I offered her tea,” Tony said.

  “Maybe she’d like something a little stronger. She’s not a grandmother.”

  Baby laughed. “I guess I could have something,” she said. “It’s been the day from hell.”

  “How come?”

  “Oh, long story,” Baby said. “Our landlord showed up and demanded the rent early. Well, technically it’s due today but I told him we’d have it on the fifteenth.”

  “Did he give you the extra time to pay?” Jack said.

  Baby looked into his bright, seductive eyes.

  “He did,” she said.

  Jack nodded. “Is wine okay?”

  “Wine would be perfect.”

  He poured her a glass of what was probably the most expensive wine she would ever taste and handed it to her. He sat to her right on the couch. Tony was sitting to her left.

  “So,” Baby said after taking a sip of the wine, it really was delicious. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this invitation? What can I do for you two boys?”

  The two brothers looked at each other and seemed a little sheepish.

  “Well?” Baby said.

  Jack laughed. “It’s rather silly really.”

  Baby had to take a deep breath to stop herself swooning at that accent. If she was going to feel this thrilled every time one of them spoke, it would be very hard to get any work done.

  “We need to be very careful,” Tony said.

  “It’s our reputation. Where we come from, reputation is everything,” Jack said.

  “If the Queen were to see our photo in the tabloids we could kiss our invitation to Buckingham Palace goodbye.”

  “A photo in the tabloids? What of?”

  “Anything,” Tony said. “You name it.”

  “I’m not sure I understand,” Baby said.

  “Do you know where we come from?”

  “London, England?”

  Tony nodded, “Yes, but where we really come from.”

  “I can’t say I do,” Baby said. “Some little province somewhere.”

  “Yes, right on the border of Spain and France. A place no one’s heard of. But it’s painfully conservative.”

  “And it’s strictest on us,” Tony said. “We’re the crown princes. We’re expected to live like monks. If there was any type of scandal involving us, even the hint of a scandal, our family would disown us.”

  “What kind of scandal?” Baby said.

  “Well, it’s a bit complicated,” Jack said, “but the gist of it is that the head of the church and the head of the government are supposed to get together and select our wives. They have to choose from a very select list of royal families and we have no say in the matter.”

  “I get it,” Baby said. “You’re princes, and you have to marry princesses.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Yes, it would be all right except we’re not allowed to have sex until we’re married.”

  “Oh,” Baby said,

  “With anyone.”

  “Lots of people live like that,” Baby said. “Besides, it won’t be long until you’re married, I imagine.”

  “Ordinarily, that would be true,” Jack said.

  “Ordinarily?”

  “Yes, but at the moment, there is a severe shortage of eligible princesses. They’ve been trying to match both of us for almost ten years, but there literally isn’t a single woman in Europe that fits the bill.”

  “So you’re stuck in sexual purgatory,” Baby said, letting a soft laugh escape her lips.

  “Yes we are,” Tony said, shaking his head.

  “It’s really quite unbearable,” Jack said.

  “So that means …” Baby said, before stopping herself.

  “Means what?”

  “You’re not both virgins, are you?”

  She looked up at them and they both looked back and nodded slowly.

  “I don’t believe it,” she gasped.

  “You don’t have to believe it. It’s the truth.”

  Baby laughed, and then put her hand in front of her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “I told you she’d laugh,” Jack said to his brother.

  “Of course she’d laugh. It’s hilarious. It’s a joke. Our lives are a sad, unfunny joke.”

  “A frustrated, sexless joke,” Jack said. “The ironic thing is, our government requires us to avoid scandal at all costs, but the real scandal would be if the world found out we’re virgins!”

  Baby shook her head in disbelief. She still had no idea what they were asking of her. “So let me get this straight. You’re worried about your public image?”

  “Exactly,” Tony said.

  “We need to be squeaky clean.”

  “If your government found out you were doing anything … undignified.”

  “We’d be disowned by our family, our country, everyone. A thousand years of family history would end with us.”

  “The consequences would be dire.”

  “So, the solution is simple,” Baby said.

  “It is?”

  “Yes. You two just keep on behaving like you have been. Don’t have sex with anyone. It’s the only way to avoid scandal.”

  The two brothers looked at each other for a minute, then turned to Baby.

  “Eh, we had a different solution in mind.”

  “Oh, you did?” Baby said. “Why am I not surprised?”

  “Come on,” Tony said. “Look at it from our perspective. Almost thirty and no sign of a marriage in sight. How long can we be expected to save ourselves?”

  “Answer truthfully,” Jack said. “How long would you last without sex, Baby?”

  Baby felt herself blush at the question. They had a point. It was a lot to ask. It was impossible. You couldn’t expect two strong, healthy, sexy, beautiful men like Jack and Tony to remain virgins forever, just out of tradition.

  “Okay boys, I see what you’re saying. You’re in a predicament, but what could it possibly have to do with me?”

  “Well,” Jack said, “you’re an investigator, right?”

  “Yes,” Baby said, praying they wouldn’t ask to see her references. She doubted they’d be impressed to learn they were her first clients.

  “So, you’d investigate for us.”

  “Investigate?”

  “We need you to tell us who we can trust. In the romance department.”

  “Romance department?”

  Tony laughed awkwardly. He looked at his brother. “She’s never going to understand this,” he said.

  “She will,” Jack said. “We haven’t explained ourselves yet.”

  “Explained what?” Baby said.

  “Look,” Tony said. “What my brother is trying to say is that if we knew that a woman could be trusted, if we really knew she wasn’t going to walk out and sell her story to the first reporter she came across, we could maybe get involved with her. We’d just have to one hundred percent certain no one would ever find out.”

  Baby let out a little laugh.

  “What is it?” Jack said.
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  “Let me get this straight? You two want to go out and have a good time? You want to live it up a little? You want women. But you’re afraid of what mommy and daddy will think back home?”

  “Exactly,” Jack said. “You do understand.”

  “She’s laughing at us, brother.”

  “What age are you two?”

  “Twenty nine,” Jack said.

  “And you?” she said, turning to Tony.

  “We’re twins. You didn’t know that?”

  “Eh, no, I didn’t.”

  Tony shrugged. “We’re both twenty nine.”

  “You’re twenty nine, you’re worth billions of dollars, you’re heirs to a kingdom, and you’re too scared to go out there and get a couple of girlfriends?”

  Tony sighed. “This is never going to work.”

  “It was your idea,” Jack said.

  “You’re the one who found her website.”

  They turned to Baby.

  “Look, you know what we need. We absolutely cannot let word get out, but we absolutely have to lose our virginity. Can you help us?”

  “You want me to vet women for you? That’s what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, do a background check. Find out their secrets. Tell us what kind of woman they are. Make sure we can trust her. Make sure she won’t tell.”

  Baby stood up. “Well, I’m sorry, gentlemen, but that’s asking the impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Get my coat,” Baby said. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “What’s wrong with our request?” Jack said.

  “Well, first of all, it’s probably illegal. You can’t just go snooping into women’s private lives because you’re worried about your own privacy. People have rights. The type of vetting you guys have in mind, you need a real reason to invade a girl’s privacy like that.”

  “We do it all the time back home.”

  “Well, it’s not the way things work in America. American women expect more respect. Think about it. You’re worried about your privacy, so the first thing you want to do is invade their privacy. It’s not fair. And secondly, you can’t guarantee things in romance like you can in business. You never know how a girl’s going to react to what happens in a relationship. There’s always a chance she’ll turn around and sell her story when things go sour. You can’t vet for that.”

 

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