The Baby Promise

by Tia Wylder

  I pulled a twenty out of my wallet and passed it through the greasy plexiglass slot. “Keep the change,” I muttered under my breath.

  “You want me to wait?” The cabbie gave me a dirty look as if I’m not allowed to say yes.

  I shrugged. “I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

  The cabbie muttered something foul under his breath, and I rolled my eyes as I pushed open the door and climbed out onto the sidewalk. Even though I’m still technically in the same city, the difference between Harlem and Manhattan is astonishing. My part of the city is clean, manicured, groomed perfectly. Whereas Harlem…Harlem is different. It’s more of a blue-collar area, but that’s almost appealing because it seems so much more human than Manhattan. There are families here, people who’ve been here their whole lives.

  Whereas I’ve barely stepped outside of my privilege for one second.

  Of course, there’s no elevator. I climbed five flights of rickety stairs, dodging skinny, yowling cats and chubby toddlers clutching melting ice-cream bars in their hands. By the time I’m standing outside of Crosetti’s office, my heart is pounding, and my forehead is drenched in sweat.

  “Hello?” Knocking on the door, I leaned back, rocking on the balls of my feet. “Crosetti?”

  “Come in!”

  I pushed open the door and walked inside.

  “Hi!” A young girl looked up at me and smiled. “Do you have any appointment?”

  “I just called a little while ago,” I said, glancing down at my watch. “Is Crosetti still available to see me?”

  The girl nodded. “Yeah,” she said, slipping into high-school vernacular. “He’s in the back. Want me to tell him you’re here?”

  “No need,” I said darkly, pushing past her desk and into the lone office. The door was varnished and somewhat sticky – cringing, I pulled my hand away and wiped it on my slacks.

  Inside, there was a large wooden desk, covered in papers. A man sat in a leather chair, hunched over the paperwork and frowning, holding a glass up to his eye. He was younger than I’d expected – his hair was mostly brown, threaded with grey and silver – but his face was weary and lined. He didn’t look up, even when I walked right over to his desk.

  “Mr. Crosetti?”

  The man glanced up, eyeing me and raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  I sat down in the hard wooden chair opposite from his desk. “I called a little while ago. I want someone to tail a girl for me.”

  Don snickered and rubbed his hands together. “Boy, ain’t you in the right place,” he said, shaking his head. I noticed he was chewing a large wad of gum. “What’d she do?”

  I sighed and leaned back against the chair. “She’s my ex-girlfriend,” I explained, pulling out my phone and showing him a picture of Pamela. It was from one of her many social media profiles, and showed her in a slinky black gown, holding a glass of champagne and giggling with her head thrown back.

  Don’s eyes practically popped out of his head. “Damn, she’s a looker!” He said, whistling. “Lemme guess – she cheated on you?”

  “Yeah, but that’s not why I’m here,” I said, narrowing my eyes and tucking my phone away. “I dumped her, and now she comes back and says she’s pregnant. I don’t think it’s mine – but it’s too early to tell.”

  Don laughed. “And you don’t wanna be on the hook for child support?”

  I frowned. “It’s not that,” I said, before launching into an explanation of Spyros Magnate and my father’s command.

  “Oh,” Don said. “I get it. You don’t want this kid to be yours, and you think she’s trying to pull a fast one.”

  I nodded. “I’m sure she’s seeing someone else,” I said. “But I need proof.”

  Don nodded. Suddenly, he was all businesslike. “Right,” he said. “Well, this will be expensive.” He glanced up at me with a knowing look on his face. “But something about you tells me that you ain’t gotta worry too much about money.”

  I shrugged. “As long as you do the job well, expense isn’t an issue,” I said smoothly.

  “Right,” Don said. He handed me a sheet to fill out, where I listed Pamela’s full name, address, and physical characteristics. It almost felt a little creepy, but every time I started to hesitate, I thought about her face, twisted with rage.

  “I can’t emphasize how important it is for you to be discreet,” I said, handing the form back over to Don. “She can’t find out about this – it gives her even more ammunition against me, which she doesn’t need.”

  Don nodded. “Don’t worry,” he said, smirking. “I ain’t never been caught before. I’ve been doin’ this for almost twenty years.”

  “Damn,” I said, shaking my head. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”

  Don gave me a toothy smile. “Probably a damn sight more entertaining than your gig,” he said. “What, you in finance or something?”

  “Shipping.”

  “Ah, you Greeks,” Don replied, shaking his head. “I get you. I’ll be in touch by the end of the week,” he added. “Might be better for us to meet somewhere other than here.”

  I frowned. “And why is that?”

  Don chuckled. “In case this little girl gets it in her head that you’re having her tailed,” he said, raising his eyebrows and laughing. “She might do the same thing.”

  I shook my head. “She wouldn’t do that,” I said.

  “Ah, but that’s what you wanna believe,” Don replied. “And that ain’t my business – trust me, man, I’m here to make things as transparent for you as possible.”

  I gave Crosetti a five-hundred dollar advance, then pulled on my jacket and left his grimy office. The whole thing felt kind of sordid and strange, even though I knew it was all perfectly legal.

  As soon as I was outside, I pulled out my phone and dialed Honey. Again, it went straight to voicemail.

  Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair. What the hell was I supposed to do to get back in her good graces?

  I knew Honey didn’t think of herself as a very materialistic person, but then again, she’d grown up rich. I wondered if making a grand gesture would do anything to increase the odds of her talking to me again.

  I hailed a cab, climbed in the backseat, and had them take me to a jewelry store in Manhattan. As soon as I walked through the doors, I spotted the perfect thing. It was a diamond solitaire necklace, dangling from a sculpted hand statue.

  “Sir? Can I help you?” A young woman in a black dress came over, smiling.

  “Yeah,” I said, pointing at the diamond pendant. “I want that.”

  The woman chuckled. “Sir, you have excellent taste. I’m sure she’ll love it!”

  I whipped out my credit card, had the woman gift-box the pendant, then tucked the box in my pocket. “Is there a florist around here?” I asked.

  The woman blushed. “Wow,” she said. “If I can admit this, I’m jealous of your girlfriend!”

  I laughed. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  The woman flushed even brighter. “Wow,” she repeated. “Are you single?”

  “Hopefully not,” I said drily. “So, is there a florist around here or not?”

  The woman directed me three blocks uptown. Sure enough, there was an upscale boutique florist with a small storefront teeming with flowers. After selecting a huge bouquet of pink and white peonies, I ducked back in the cab and gave the driver Honey’s address.

  “Someone’s making up for a fight,” the driver muttered under his breath.

  I rolled my eyes.

  By now, it was the middle of the afternoon and traffic was thicker than before. The cab practically crawled through the streets. By the time we got to Honey’s, I was drenched in sweat and nervous. It was crazy – talking to women had never made me nervous.

  So, what was it about Honey that made me feel so anxious?

  I was glad I had the bouquet in one hand – holding the flowers in front of me made me feel a little more in
control. I climbed the stairs to Honey’s apartment, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

  Seconds later, the door swung open. A girl – not Honey – blinked at me.

  “What do you want?” She asked, narrowing her eyes.

  “Beth, isn’t it?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Is Honey home?”

  Beth glanced over her shoulder and sighed. “She really doesn’t want to see you right now,” she said. “Trust me.”

  “I know,” I said quickly. “But please, just tell her it’ll only take five minutes.”

  Beth spotted the flowers, and her eyes grew wide. “Okay,” she said. “I’ll try.”

  She shut the door in my face, and I listened to her footsteps pacing across the floor, followed by a volley of female voices. Please, I thought. Please, just give me one more chance.

  After what felt like ages, the door swung open again. Honey stood there, arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing an emerald-green silk blouse and a black pencil skirt, and she looked both professional and sexy. I wondered if she’d just gotten home from work.

  “What do you want?” Honey asked.

  “I want to apologize,” I said simply. “I fucked up, Honey.”

  Honey stared at me for a long moment before nodding. “Yeah,” she said. “You did.”

  “I got a PI to trail Pamela because I know that kid isn’t mine,” I said. “And I don’t care about the deal, but I want you in my life.”

  Honey’s expression softened. She noticed the flowers and raised her eyebrows. “Those are beautiful,” she said.

  “They’re for you.”

  Honey blinked. “Thank you,” she said softly, taking the flowers in her arms.

  “And this is for you, too,” I said, reaching into my pocket and passing over the gift-wrapped necklace. “It’s not because I think you want someone to buy your affection, but I wanted you to know how much I appreciate you, and how much I want you in my life.”

  Honey’s lower lip trembled, but she didn’t reply.

  “Please,” I said softly. “Please give me another chance,” I smirked. “Besides, if you don’t, I’m just going to order hundreds and hundreds of flowers to be sent to your apartment,” I added. “And somehow, I don’t think you want all of that attention.”

  Honey bit her lip and flushed.

  “Please go out with me tomorrow night,” I said. “I want to make this right.”

  I wasn’t prepared for the full force of Honey throwing herself in my arms. She pressed her lithe body to mine and her lips to my own, kissing me deeply and wrapping her arms around my neck. Honey purred and moaned as I put my hands on her trim waist and held her close.

  “Oh, Peter,” Honey murmured in my neck, breaking the kiss and pulling away. “I thought you hated me.”

  I snorted. “I could never hate you,” I said softly. “Don’t you know that?”

  Honey’s jewel-green eyes focused on my own, and I saw her expression was devoid of humor or laughter.

  “No,” she said quietly. “I don’t know that. Peter, why would you want someone like me? You could have anyone,” she added.

  “But I want you,” I said. “I mean it, Honey. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Honey bit her lip and sighed. To my relief, her pretty features broke out into a wide smile.

  “Okay,” Honey said. “I’ll go out with you.” She leaned closer and kissed my cheek. “And I still want the deal,” she added. “As long as you do.”

  A tidal wave of relief washed over me, and I picked Honey up and swung her around in the air.

  “Yes,” I said fiercely. “Yes, I want the deal. And I want you.”

  Honey grinned. She kissed me again, and a hot bolt of lust ran through my body. My balls ached – suddenly, I wanted to strip her professional attire off right then and there and take her in the hallway.

  And by the mischievous look on Honey’s face, I had a feeling she felt the same as I.

  Chapter 13

  Honey

  “So,” Beth said, smirking at me when I shut the door. “All is well?”

  I ignored her. “I need to put these in some water,” I said, dipping my face to the peonies and inhaling deeply. “They’re beautiful.”

  “They are,” Beth agreed. “Did he apologize?”

  “Yeah,” I said. I sighed. “We’re going out tomorrow night.”

  Beth smirked. “And the deal?”

  I couldn’t help but break into a wide grin. “Still on,” I said. “Definitely still on.”

  The next day, I couldn’t get through work without smiling. Even when Nate asked me to stay late and send out three hundred mailers to our clients, I couldn’t be upset. As soon as I was done with work, I rushed home and took a quick shower before putting on my favorite dress – a black silk sheath that clung to my curvy frame. After adding a touch of lipstick and black heels that made me look even taller, I felt pretty good.

  Peter picked me up at eight-thirty, and we went straight to a sushi place in Manhattan.

  “I’ve always wanted to try this place,” I said, marveling at the mosaic interior. “It’s beautiful.”

  Peter took my hand and laughed. When he squeezed my fingers, I felt a warm rush come over my body.

  “You’re beautiful,” Peter said. He leaned close and kissed me on the neck.

  I sighed happily. Something about being with Peter made me feel so good. I could never put my finger on it, but I just felt…content.

  After we were shown to our table, Peter ordered a bottle of sake and a variety of rolls and nigiri for us to split. I could hardly contain myself as the protein buzzed through my body, making me feel sexy and strangely powerful.

  “I’m glad you gave me another chance,” Peter said softly. He took my hand in his and stroked his thumb along the back of my fingers. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked in his ocean-blue eyes, I knew that I’d never been able to stay away from him.

  The only thing I was worried about was falling in too deep.

  “So,” I said casually, sipping my sake. “How was work?”

  Peter laughed. “The same as always,” he said, rolling his eyes. He leaned in close, and I saw there was a devilish glint in his eye. “But we something more exciting to talk about, don’t we?”

  I frowned. “What?”

  Peter snickered. “The wedding,” he said, raising an eyebrow at me. “Right?”

  I flushed. “What, you can’t mean us,” I replied, taking another drink of my sake. The rice wine was different, but I had to admit that I liked it. It was both sweet and almost savory at the same time.

  “I do,” Peter said, raising an eyebrow. “You should get a dress.”

  I blinked and glanced down before smirking. “I have a dress,” I said. “This one.”

  Peter rolled his eyes. “No,” he said. “A white dress.”

  I flushed. “It seems weird,” I said. “For a fake wedding.”

  “This isn’t a fake wedding,” Peter said. He reached across the table and held my hand. “Remember? The contract?”

  I bit my lip so I wouldn’t blush any harder.

  “Maybe,” I said after a long pause. “Maybe I can go shopping next week, take Beth, you know.”

  Peter nodded. “Good.”

  Suddenly, a horrible thought occurred to me. “You’re not going to invite anyone, are you? Like…”

  “My father?” Peter laughed and shook his head. “No,” he said. “Definitely not.”

  “Don’t we need a witness?”

  Peter shook his head. “No,” he said. “I had Marty look into it. We’re good to go.”

  I flushed. “What about an appointment? A marriage license?”

  Peter shook his head. “Already taken care of.” He flashed me a big grin.

  I couldn’t help but smile. Even though I knew that this was a sham – that we were a sham – I couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit excited.

  “
You’re the best,” I said.

  Peter gave me a strange look. “What makes you say that?”

  I looked down at my hands in my lap – I didn’t want to give away how much I liked him – and shrugged.

  “I have a good time with you,” I said lamely. I glanced down at the glimmering diamond around my neck. “And I love this. It’s beautiful.”