Occupational Hazard: The Ultimate Workplace Romance Box Set

by Eve Langlais

  It made his stomach turn. She’d been hurt. She could have been killed. That shot – that was what he did to the people he cared about. If it hadn’t been for that shot, he might never have slept with Hattie. He certainly wouldn’t have made her pregnant.

  He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look at her any more. The hard stone of guilt, which had been pushed back into the far corners of his heart since Lianne, was threatening to burst through. Hattie said he wallowed in it. He’d thought he’d been dealing with it pretty well. For the first few months, he’d struggled to sleep, but since then he’d more or less just got on with life. His career had taken up most of his time, but there had been a handful of casual relationships that he’d enjoyed. No one like Hattie, though.

  There was no one like Hattie. That was the point. She was unique.

  She deserved better than him.

  She didn’t deserve to be pregnant and alone.

  Damn.

  He picked up his phone again and dialled her landline number. He let it ring. Even if it went to voicemail, he’d leave a message. Tell her... something.

  ‘Hello?’

  Her voice was deeper than usual. Husky. ‘Were you asleep?’ He hadn’t even thought to check the time.

  ‘It’s two o’clock in the morning. What do you think?’

  ‘Sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll ring again tomorrow.’

  He could hear her sigh, and then some rustling. He pictured her shoving things off the sofa to make room to sit down.

  ‘I’m awake now. So talk.’

  ‘I’ll do whatever you need. Be there. Help. Whatever. I just... I just wanted to say you’re not on your own.’

  There was silence. But he held on. As long as she didn’t hang up, he had a chance.

  ‘Even if I go ahead and have the baby?’ she said eventually. It didn’t sound like a test. There was uncertainty in her voice, a vulnerability he wasn’t used to from her.

  ‘I’ll be there. Terrified and incompetent. I’ll probably need you to hold my hand. But I’ll be doing my best.’

  ‘And if I don’t have it?’

  He rubbed a hand across his forehead. ‘I’ll be there, too. If you want.’

  ‘You don’t deserve another chance, you know.’

  ‘I know. I really am sorry, Hattie. I realise I’m the worst person to be stuck in this situation with.’

  Another pause. ‘Maybe not quite the worst.’

  He could hear the smile in her voice and relaxed just slightly. ‘Who would be worse?’

  ‘Well, you’re not an axe murderer.’

  ‘You’re setting the bar quite low.’

  ‘You should be grateful there’s a bar at all. I haven’t forgiven you, you know.’

  He grinned and felt the tension seep even further away. ‘I know. Hattie, I should have asked earlier. Are you okay? Not sick, or anything?’

  ‘I’m not the one with the stomach bug.’

  ‘No, you’re the one who’s pregnant.’

  ‘So far, so good. Not even any cravings. Apart from the ones I always have. Chocolate. Pizza. Wine.’

  ‘Good. That’s good.’

  ‘I’m going to see the doctor on Wednesday.’

  He took a deep breath. ‘Would you like me to come?’

  She gave a short laugh. ‘No. Not this time.’

  ‘Okay. Hattie... what are you going to do?’

  There was a long silence. He held his breath.

  ‘I was planning to end it. But now... I don’t think I know.’

  Neither of them spoke for a long time.

  Eventually, Hattie broke the silence. ‘I’m scared.’ Her voice was shaking.

  So was his as he replied, ‘So am I.’

  ###

  Hattie went to the GP on Wednesday. He confirmed the pregnancy and she asked him to sign off her abortion. But she didn’t make an appointment with the clinic. There was still plenty of time to decide. She visited her parents, not to ask their advice, but because she wanted to remember what it had been like to grow up there. Her old bedroom had been redecorated, but at the back of the wardrobe she found a box full of her things. Barbies with their hair chopped into mohicans and biro tattoos up their arms. A pile of Smash Hits magazines with all the quizzes filled in to find out which Spice Girl she was most like and who her ideal celebrity boyfriend would be.

  ‘Are you okay, Hattie, darling?’

  Her mother was standing at the door in her smart calf-length skirt and navy blue cardigan over a floral shirt. She always wore pearls in her ears and, for as long as Hattie could remember, her hair had been cut into a sleek silver bob. She had Hattie’s eyes, though, blue and clear as they’d always been.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘Then why are you crying?’ Her mother had come closer and stooped down to inspect her. Hattie hadn’t even registered the tears running over her cheeks. She brushed them away.

  ‘I’m fine.’

  The bed creaked a little as her mother sat beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders. The floral duvet cover in grey and yellow was new. Hattie had chosen bold geometric prints when it was her bedroom.

  ‘I know we haven’t always been the best of friends, Hattie, but if there’s a problem, you know you can talk to me about it.’ She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gone to her mum in tears about something. Not since she was a young child. Once she’d reached her teenage years, her tears had more often than not been caused by rows with her parents, and she’d learned to brush them away in public.

  Hattie found a tissue in her pocket and blew her nose.

  ‘It’s not a problem. It’s just that I’m pregnant.’ She braced herself for her mother’s disappointment. Of all the mistakes she’d made in her life, this would surely rate the highest.

  But, ‘Oh, Hattie,’ was all she said. And then Hattie felt her mother’s arms go round her and they were both hugging and crying. It might not have been what they normally did, but it felt good and Hattie didn’t want to question it.

  Eventually, the tears dried up and, through hiccupping breaths, she managed to smile at her mum. ‘I’m okay, really. It’s just been a bit of a shock these last few days.’

  Her mum nodded. ‘I take it you weren’t planning this.’

  Hattie rolled her eyes. ‘Neither of us were.’

  ‘Who’s the father, dear?’

  ‘Tom Metcalfe.’

  Her mum nodded, as if she was unsurprised by the news. Hattie frowned. She didn’t think she’d told her parents that she and Tom were anything other than work colleagues.

  ‘You like him, don’t you?’

  Hattie couldn’t help but smile as she shook her head. It was so like her mother to say entirely the wrong thing for the situation. ‘We’re not exactly together.’

  ‘But you will be. For the baby.’ If only real life were as simple as Mum made it sound.

  She took a deep breath. This was the hardest part of the conversation and she hadn’t planned on discussing it today. But now it felt the right thing to do. ‘I don’t know if I’m keeping the baby, Mum.’

  Her mother looked at the Barbies on the bed and back at Hattie. ‘Don’t you?’

  ‘I want to.’ And, as she said it, she realised it was true. She did want the baby. Not to prove a point or to show Tom that she could do it. But simply because it was her child and Tom’s and that made it special. She’d love it enough for both of them if she had to.

  ‘Then why are you considering the other?’ Of course, her mother couldn’t actually say the words.

  Hattie shrugged as all the reasons came flooding back. ‘Because I’m too young. Too single. Too stupid.’

  ‘You’re older than I was, when I had you.’ Her mother was stroking her knee, comforting her. Hattie felt a huge rush of love for the woman who had never understood her, but kept trying to do her best for her.

  ‘You had Dad with you,’ she pointed out. ‘It’s not the same.’

  ‘You’ll have Tom. And Hattie, you aren’
t stupid.’

  ‘I don’t know how to bring up a child,’ she mumbled. She’d never even been good at looking after her Barbies.

  But her mum laughed. ‘No one does. You’ll work it out, like everyone else. We’ll help you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Of course, darling.’

  ‘I thought you’d tell me it was just another thing I couldn’t do,’ Hattie said. She’d never expected that her parents would support her. Some part inside of her that was always wound-up against her mother’s unintended wounds had begun to unclench. Just a little way, but it was a beginning.

  ‘I never said that. Did I?’ The question was unexpected. Hattie’s mother was normally so certain about everything.

  Hattie raised her eyebrow. ‘All the time. Anything I said I thought I could be, you suggested something easier.’

  ‘I didn’t want you to be disappointed. I didn’t mean you to think you couldn’t try.’ She shook her head gently. ‘I’m sorry, Hattie.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter now. I’ve signed up with a modelling agency to do adverts and promotional work. They’ve got me three auditions next week.’

  ‘That’s wonderful, Hattie.’ And for once, she looked genuinely pleased at Hattie’s good news.

  ‘They said they’ll definitely be able to find me jobs while I’m pregnant, too,’ she went on, encouraged by her mother’s response. ‘And afterwards, I can work as much or as little as I want to.’

  ‘You’ll need someone to look after the baby while you’re working.’

  ‘Yes.’ She stared at her mother. ‘Are you offering?’

  Her mother took both Hattie’s hands in hers and smiled. ‘Just try to stop me. This is my grandchild we’re talking about.’

  She hadn’t thought of it like that before. She felt her lips curving into a smile to match her mother’s. ‘So it is. Well, then.’ She glanced down at her stomach. ‘Looks like we won’t be on our own, after all, little bump.’

  ###

  She’d said she was going to the doctor today. Should he ring? He should wait for her to call, right? Only she’d been angry that he hadn’t called from Morocco. He should ring. But what if she hadn’t rung because she was still deciding? He didn’t want to put any pressure on her. He wouldn’t ring. He’d wait until tomorrow and then phone to check everything was okay. That would be better.

  He opened up his laptop and tried to focus on his work. He was supposed to be making final edits to the photos for the exhibition, but all he could think about was Hattie and the baby. He’d ring her.

  Just as he reached for his phone it began to ring.

  ‘Hattie? I was just about to phone you. How did it go? Is everything okay?’

  ‘Tom.’ Her voice was faint. ‘Oh, Tom, I’m bleeding.’

  ‘Bleeding? Hattie, what do you mean? Are you okay?’

  She made a noise like a sob. ‘I need you to come.’

  ‘Is it serious? Have you called an ambulance? I can meet you at the hospital.’

  ‘No.’ She choked up again. ‘No, I just need you. Please, Tom.’

  He’d come as fast as he could, running down the stairs of his apartment block two at a time and telling the taxi driver to put his foot down. Hattie was ill. Bleeding.

  Oh, God, he suddenly realised what she’d meant but hadn’t said.

  She was losing the baby.

  He leaned against the door jamb, scared to ring the bell, scared of what was happening, scared of doing the wrong thing.

  But Hattie said she needed him.

  He pressed the buzzer. She must have been waiting for him in the corridor because she opened the door so fast.

  ‘Oh, Tom.’ Her knees buckled and instinctively he stepped forward to catch her.

  ‘It’s okay. I’m here.’ He helped her into her bedroom and lay down beside her.

  ‘There was blood.’ She was crying and her hands wouldn’t let go of his coat.

  ‘Ssh, I know.’ He smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Has it stopped?’

  ‘I think so.’

  ‘Good. That’s good.’ He rubbed a hand against her back, hoping it would reassure her. He hated seeing Hattie so afraid, so uncertain.

  ‘I thought I was losing it,’ she whispered.

  ‘I know, sweetheart.’

  ‘I’m sorry I rang you.’

  That hit hard. She shouldn’t have to think twice about calling him.

  ‘It was the right thing to do,’ he said.

  ‘I want to keep it, Tom. I want the baby,’ she sobbed.

  He nodded. ‘I know. It’s going to be okay.’

  ‘But you...’

  ‘I told you, I’ll do my best. And right now, I think that means being here with you. Holding you.’ He drew her into his arms. ‘Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  He rubbed her back and prayed to a God he didn’t believe in. He hadn’t realised she wanted it this much, and he was still terrified at the thought of being a father. But, in that moment when he’d thought she was losing it, he’d known an unexpectedly fierce protective impulse. This was his child – his woman – and he’d do anything he could to protect them. Whatever it took. And so he prayed that, somehow, he’d be up to the task.

  Chapter Ten

  The invitation said plus one. She’d wondered about that. Did he really mean her to turn up with some other guy? Or was it just a thing that the gallery put on all the invitations? In the end, she asked her mother to come.

  ‘There will be pictures of me.’

  ‘Yes, darling.’

  ‘In some of them, I will be naked.’

  ‘Well, it is art, I suppose.’

  Hattie laughed. She could hear the gritted teeth; but, ever since her mum had found out about the baby, she’d been so supportive in every other way that Hattie didn’t have the heart to call her out on it.

  ‘I suppose so. ‘But there will be famous people and free food.’

  ‘I hope you’re going to wear a pretty dress. Something that covers your tummy, dear.’ Some things never changed. She suspected her mum would still be trying to get Hattie into a pretty dress on her death bed.

  ‘I’m pregnant. I’m allowed to show off my stomach,’ she teased.

  ‘Yes, well. Kate Middleton dressed very nicely when she was pregnant.’

  ‘Kate Middleton is a size nothing.’

  ‘I’m just saying you don’t have to flaunt yourself.’

  ‘Mum, I’m a model!’ She was, too. She’d done half a dozen jobs through the agency. Clients liked her and were beginning to re-book her. Kate was extremely pleased with her and Hattie was extremely pleased that she’d only done six days of temping in the past month. In another month or two, she’d be able to give it up altogether. It was going to be tricky when she needed to take time off for the birth, but she’d manage. Her parents had given her an extremely generous cheque towards the cost of setting up the nursery, and Tom had mentioned an amount of child support that had Hattie’s eyebrows shooting through the roof.

  In the last couple of months, she and Tom had worked out how to be friends, she supposed. They generally shared a takeaway once a week, if he was in London. He’d gone with her for her first scan, though she’d been the one having to hold his hand to stop him fainting. Afterwards, he’d admitted that hospitals freaked him out, but that he’d started counselling to try to get through some of the issues he’d been blocking out.

  She looked forward to the evenings they spent together. He was fun to hang out with, whether he was telling stories of the outrageous things that happened on some of his fashion shoots, or listening to her ramble on about her work. If she was tired, he’d let her lie along the sofa while he rubbed her feet. And, if she had a craving, he’d venture out to find what she wanted, even on cold and wet London nights. He was talking about doing fewer foreign trips so he could be around when the baby was born, though that was still some way off.

  At four months, she still just about fitted into the dress she’d bought
for the exhibition opening. Her cleavage was slightly more spectacular than usual and the silk jersey draped around her stomach a little tighter than she’d planned. But the vivid purple still clashed marvellously with her hair, and it still showed off her curves to dramatic effect. She knew she’d got it right when her mother pursed her lips and had to visibly restrain herself from suggesting that Hattie might like to wear a pashmina over her dress.

  The gallery was almost full when they arrived. Hattie’s mother went to freshen up in the ladies’ room, leaving Hattie free to make her entrance the way she wanted. She stood at the top of the steps down into the main gallery. She set one hand on her hip and struck a pose. Then waited.

  Tom spotted her first.

  He stopped dead in the middle of a conversation and simply stared at her. The man he’d been talking to turned to look, and gave an appreciative smile. He turned back to ask Tom something and got a distracted nod in reply. Around them, the crowds began to turn in her direction until, finally, the whole room was looking at her.

  She let a slow smile creep across her face. ‘Well, good evening everyone.’

  Taking one step at a time, she descended and let the crowds part in front of her. They seemed to know where she was headed.

  Tom held out his hands to her and, when she laid hers in them, bent to kiss her on both cheeks.

  ‘How long have you been planning that?’ he murmured.

  ‘Weeks.’

  ‘It was worth it.’

  ‘How’s it going?’

  He smiled, glanced round anxiously, and smiled again. ‘No idea at all.’

  Hattie laughed. ‘Have you sold anything?’

  ‘I think so. Yes, a few.’

  ‘Well, that’s great. Have you sold any of me?’

  He looked sheepish. ‘I didn’t put them on sale.’

  ‘Why not? Aren’t they good enough?’ She could feel the fear rising. She didn’t want to be in a room full of people pitying her because her pictures weren’t of a high enough quality to sell.