Before today, I would’ve had a hard time imagining Vincent being so focused on a child. He was always so busy either with his business or doing crazy recreational activities. Having a kid was a lot of responsibility. It was almost in complete opposition to his lifestyle. “It sounds like he practically treats Brady as his own kid.”
She shook her head. “He knows the limit. The way he gives me options is always a one-off. He doesn’t argue with me or nag me or anything like that. He cares tremendously about his nephew and has an unusual capacity for helping out, so he’s taking advantage of that. Plus as you’ve seen, his gifts for Brady aren’t outrageous. I think Brady will become conscious of how much money his uncle has very slowly.” She took a taste of the frosting. “Put it this way: it’s a good parenting challenge to have.”
“What does Rob think?”
“He’s supportive. Vincent and him get along well. My brother takes the protective older sibling thing very seriously.”
I knew more about how protective Vincent could be than I wanted to. “I bet.”
Giselle turned and looked at me intently. I did my best to keep a poker face and concentrate on spreading the frosting, though I could see her out of the corner of my eye. To my relief, she finally went back to her own frosting job.
“Anyway,” she said, “Vincent’s wonderful with Brady. Like another child. I hope he can have children of his own soon.”
I dropped the frosting spreader on the counter and it tumbled to the floor. Embarrassed, I scrambled and picked it up. Was she suggesting what I thought she was?
She stopped whisking again and squinted, smiling quizzically. “I didn’t say he’s in a rush!”
I washed it off in the sink before wiping up the frosting on the floor. “Sorry, I’m just a little clumsy.”
She stood with her arms crossed, watching me again. “That’s okay, accidents happen.”
Her sleeves were rolled up, and as I was looking at her trying to judge her expression my eyes fell to some peculiar scars on her forearms. Were those cigarette burns? Nothing in the house smelled like cigarette smoke, so I was guessing she wasn’t a smoker. Maybe she had been one in the past, before Brady. Or maybe it was something more nefarious.
She seemed to notice I was looking at her arms and rolled down her sleeves before turning back to work. “Anyway, I do hope things work out between you two,” Giselle said. “I would love it if Vincent has finally found someone to share his life with.”
I let the question of her arms go and flashed a smile fit for a job interview. “So far he’s been pretty great.”
I heard their footsteps a second before they burst in. There was a crash at the kitchen door, then the knob turned and Brady came in giggling, with Vincent close behind.
“Hey buddy, come back. Where are you going?” Vincent cried.
Brady made a beeline straight for me and threw his arms around my right leg. “Kristen,” he screamed, “Come play trains!”
I looked at Giselle, who was smiling. “It looks like I’m being summoned,” I said.
“I think so. You guys have fun, I can finish up here.”
The three of us went back and played trains until the cake was ready. By that point, a couple of Brady’s friends had come over with their parents, and Vincent and I were nearly forgotten. The party ended up lasting until seven o’clock. By the time we left, I was as tuckered out as the kids. I slept in the car the whole way home.
Chapter Four
Sunday was a blur of errands and getting my life in order. Seeing Vincent in a family environment was a serious eye-opener. After the way he had handled Marty, I was afraid I was dating a hyper-logical man with the emotions of a caveman. But now, seeing him with Brady, it was clear he had a lot of love in his heart. That made me feel good.
Monday morning I dragged my feet out of bed and lurched my way to work. As I stepped off the elevator on the forty-eighth floor of the tall, glass building housing Waterbridge-Howser, I started feeling dizzy. I had a rough night trying to sleep and only ended up getting a few hours. When I got to my office, I put down my bag and walked right back out. I needed caffeine. Badly.
I went to the common kitchen area with my cup. When I smelled the coffee pot, it made me nauseous.
“Man, who made the coffee this morning? It smells terrible.”
An analyst named Sam was also in the kitchen; he was busy slathering a bagel with cream cheese. He took a bite of his bagel then a sip of his mug. “Hmm tastes fine to me. I don’t smell anything unusual.”
“You don’t smell it? It smells like dirty feet and tires.”
“Maybe you got a super sniffer.”
“A what?”
“You know, like someone who has super sensitive taste buds except with smell. I saw it on an episode of Law & Order. When the police dog was unable to sniff out drugs from a crime scene, they brought in this guy who was a super sniffer.”
Suddenly curious that I might have a superpower, I asked, “Did he find anything at the scene?”
He nodded vigorously. “He sniffed out this scent that the dog wasn’t trained to detect. It was some weird chemical that led the police to this abandoned paint factory where they found incriminating evidence.”
“Interesting.”
“See if you can sniff my deodorant.” He lifted up his armpit and I noticed a faint sweat stain on the shirt fabric. Fortunately he was several feet away.
“I can’t smell anything from here.”
“Maybe you’re not a super sniffer then.”
“Yeah, I don’t think I have that ability. Otherwise, I would’ve probably figured it out earlier.”
He took another bite of his bagel. “Could be you’re pregnant.”
I nearly dropped my empty mug but caught it at the last moment. “What?”
He finished chewing. “When my wife was pregnant, she couldn’t stand certain smells. Like coffee and the smell of the grocery store.”
I laughed nervously and batted my hand at the notion. Sam shrugged and went off to his own desk to do work or perhaps ponder the mystery.
I remained in the kitchen. What if I really was pregnant?
The past couple weeks raced through my mind. I’d vomited twice. The first time I’d attributed to bad Chinese food. The second time happened because I was distraught over Marty showing up and the argument with Vincent that followed. Surely it wasn’t morning sickness . . .
My hand flew to cover my open mouth when I realized something: it was almost a week now that my period was late.
Oh no.
During lunch, I made a trip to Duane Reade and picked up a pregnancy test. When I got to the family planning aisle, I felt like I was walking into a sex shop looking over my shoulder every second like I was about to do something scandalous. I found what I was looking for and tucked the box under my arm until I reached the register. After paying, I hurriedly put the box in my purse hoping no one saw me buy it.
When I got home, I spotted Riley in her usual spot on the couch watching TV. I set down my tote in a kitchen chair and headed for the bathroom with the test box in hand, careful to keep it hidden from Riley.
I locked the door and stared at the box for a moment. The picture on the front showed a woman smiling brightly. I glanced in the mirror and saw that my expression looked nothing like that.
I took out a strip and followed the directions, my hands trembling the entire time.
It would take a few minutes before the results showed. I closed my eyes and started a countdown in my mind, dreading to see the result.
Deep breaths, Kristen.
Finally, five minutes had passed. I looked down at the test in my hand.
Pink line. I was pregnant.
I dropped the test on the floor. My hands were shaking. This had to be a mistake. No way I was pregnant. I’d been on birth control. Even though Vincent came inside me when we were in the Caribbean, there was no way he got me pregnant. It didn’t matter how potent his sperm was, it couldn’t
beat birth control . . . right?
I took another one.
Five excruciatingly long minutes later, I looked at it.
Pink line again.
Shit. Shit shit shit. Shit. Fuck.
My world was coming apart. This can’t be happening.
I frantically examined the box, hoping to find a warning about its inaccuracy.
“Over 99% accurate. Take comfort in knowing your results.”
I stepped out of the bathroom and went to the living room where Riley was sipping a diet coke.
“Riley, I need to ask you something.” I tried to keep my voice as calm as possible for someone who just discovered they were pregnant.
She put her drink down on the coffee table and turned her attention to me. “Sure, what is it?”
“Is it possible to get two false-positives on a pregnancy test?”
“Huh? Why are you . . .” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god. Are you pregnant?”
I tried holding the tears back but they started flowing against my will. “I just took a test and that’s what it said.”
“I thought you were on birth control!”
“I was, I mean, I am. I just—I don’t know how this could have happened.”
“Oh Kris, you know that even the pill isn’t one-hundred percent effective.”
I nodded. “I mean, I knew that as a concept, but I never thought that I’d be the tiny sliver of a percentage that it would fail for!”
Riley studied my face, probably discerning that congratulations weren’t in order. Her tone became serious. “What are you going to do?”
I started crying harder. “I never planned for this. Vincent and I never talked about it. We’ve barely even known each other for two months!”
Riley came to hug me and rub my back. “It’s going to be okay, Kris. You have options. It’s not the end of the world.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
Her voice was soft. “Are you considering getting an abortion?”
“I don’t know. What other choice do I have? I’m not ready to be a mom. I thought I’d be into my thirties before I considered having a baby. I don’t even know how Vincent would react if he found out.”
“Are you going to tell him?”
“Should I?”
“You should. He has a right to know. He is the father right?”
I wiped the tears from my cheek. “Unless my fingers have started magically producing sperm, yes. Vincent’s the only one I’ve had sex with.”
“Okay. How is your relationship with him going? You said you two made up right?”
“Yeah, we did.”
“Good. That should make it easier to tell him. Have faith in him, Kris. Didn’t you say he adored his nephew?”
Giselle’s stories about Vincent’s emails in the early morning hours enthusing over activities and programs for Brady ran through my mind. “He does. I think he might actually be too intense about it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know, his sister made it sound like he’s borderline obsessed with the kid. Sends her emails at two in the morning with camps and stuff his nephew can go to when he’s old enough.”
Riley nodded. “That sounds very sweet. It sounds like he would be a great dad.”
“I don’t know Riley, liking kids is not the same as wanting one of your own.”
“That’s true. He’s a busy CEO and lives a fast-paced lifestyle. But liking kids is certainly a positive sign.”
“Or what if he really does want a child and I don’t? What if I just don’t want to be a mom yet? I could get an abortion and not tell him. Wouldn’t that be easier? If I tell him, and we disagree, this could destroy our relationship. Then it would have been easier just to not tell him, and maybe we can have a baby years from now.”
She sucked in a deep breath. “I think you should think hard about whether you want to get an abortion. My mother had an unplanned pregnancy and almost got an abortion. I’m glad she didn’t, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.”
I could feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. “Riley, I didn’t know . . .”
“It’s okay. We all have secrets Kristen.” She squeezed my hand. “Just don’t make a quick decision. Think about it. I think I would tell Vincent. If you make this decision by yourself, it’s going to be a strain on your relationship for the rest of the time you’re together. I mean, it’s pretty dishonest.”
She made a good point. If Vincent couldn’t trust me to talk to him about something this important, that said bad things about the health of our relationship as a whole. Still though, it was just so much to deal with. “You don’t think I’m too young to have a child?”
Riley shook her head. “You’re twenty-five. A lot of women have children at that age. When people are as young as we are, typically money is a big concern, but that’s obviously not the case here. You have a great job and Vincent is loaded.”
“That’s part of it though, Riley. I can’t have a baby fathered by my client. That’s beyond scandalous. If I decide to have this baby, my time at Waterbridge-Howser is done.”
“I thought you said they had no policy against it!”
I sighed. “Official policy is one thing. Shoving it in the company’s face by taking maternity leave to have a baby fathered by a client is another. It’s practically proof they got the client because I had sex with him. Other wealth management firms could use that against them every time they make a pitch. The wealth management business is pretty conservative.”
“So they would fire you? Isn’t that illegal?”
“They might if they could figure out how to get away with it, or they would force me out slowly. It doesn’t matter. If I decide to have this baby, I need to find a new job before it happens. Before I start showing, actually.”
“Wow. That is a lot to handle.”
“It feels like too much. What is Vincent going to say when I drop all these problems on his lap?”
She shook her head. “Talk to him and find out. He’s the CEO of an enormous company, I’m sure he’s used to dealing with complicated situations. If you don’t talk to him about it, I think you’ll regret it later.”
“And if we break up because we can’t work it out?”
“If you guys can’t work through an issue like this together, is the relationship still worth it?”
I took a deep breath. “I guess not. Still though. This is so much.”
“You don’t have to make a decision yet. Like I said, I think you should talk to him. That’s what I would do.”
That night, I lay in bed thinking about how chaotic my life had become. I was pregnant. It explained how strange I had been feeling lately, but it still left me with more questions than answers. My life had been on the straight and narrow for so long, traveling steadily along a single path. The past two months had been the sharpest detour I could imagine.
Vincent was part of that detour, though, and the more I thought about it, the more I agreed with Riley. I needed to talk to him about my pregnancy. It was unplanned, yes, but maybe it would end up being a pleasant accident. I couldn’t rule that out. What I did know was if I made the decision without keeping him in the loop, I would have to hide that from him for the rest of my life. As long as we were together, anyway. I didn’t want that hanging over our relationship.
I had a meeting scheduled with him on Thursday. So far, the topic of the meeting would be going over the investment strategy options I had developed for his personal wealth, but it looked like there would be another item added to the agenda, official or not.
Chapter Five
Tuesday and Wednesday passed by in a blur of anxiety. Most of that time had been spent on thinking about the pregnancy than on actual work. I’d wavered back and forth between wanting to tell Vincent and not wanting to tell him, wanting to keep the baby and not wanting to keep the baby.
By the time Thursday came, I’d made up my mind that I was going to tell Vincent, but I was still unsure about my
personal stance on keeping the baby or not. I would need to know how Vincent felt before making a decision on how I felt.
Work before the meeting with Vincent was a morass of emails and memos. I kept having to reread messages to make sure I hadn’t missed anything. It was impossible to focus; I couldn’t tell if it was hormones or nervousness, but my mind felt dull and fuzzy. Even though I would have usually completed the work in thirty minutes, it took a full four hours before it was done.
Finally, the moment came for me to leave for my meeting. I packed up my stuff and took a cab over to his office. The ride went by in a numb haze. How would I start the conversation? How would he react, regardless of how I started it? The course of my life could depend on this meeting. Funny how it’s always the people you least expect that end up changing your life in the biggest ways. A few months ago, I would have never thought I’d have Vincent Sorenson’s unborn child nestled in my womb, but here I was.
I took a deep breath and exited the cab. The walk from the curb into his building and up the elevator felt like a sprint. I was going to do this. Striding through the Red Fusion office, I waved to his secretary before reaching his office. His door was half open and I knocked on it.
“Come in,” Vincent called.
I eased the door open and walked through. Vincent wasn’t sitting at his desk. Rather, he was looking out the window, lost in thought. He wore a slim cut pair of navy pants and a white and light blue checkered shirt separated by a tan leather belt. Casual but neat. I still wasn’t used to how sexy he looked in whatever he wore.
He turned over his shoulder and looked at me. “Hello, Kristen. You’re a few minutes early.”
“Am I?” I asked. I looked at my watch. “Sorry about that. Traffic was lighter than expected.”
He waved his hand as if pushing aside my words and smiled. “Don’t worry, it’s a good surprise. I like good surprises. ”
He took a couple steps toward where I was standing just inside his door. “Close that,” he said.
I knew that tone. He was seconds away from kissing me, and if that started, there was no way I was going to end up talking to him about the pregnancy. I held up the file I had prepared for presenting the strategy I had in mind for his assets. “We should get through this,” I said. “It is important, after all. I also have something else to tell you afterwards, something unrelated to business.”
Beautiful Surrender (The Forever Book 3) Page 6
