The Boss's Pregnancy Proposal
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He liked her. He liked the way she looked and the way she walked and the way she held her head when she talked to him so seriously. He actually liked that she was wary of him. He wouldn’t have respected her if she’d jumped at the things he said too eagerly. She was pretty and smart and classy.
Yes. He had to have her as the mother of his child.
She was perfect. She was the one.
“Will you come?” he asked, resisting the impulse to grab her and sling her over his shoulder.
She looked at him. “I’ll think about it.”
“Two o’clock sharp.”
“I know. I got that.”
He went to the door. “If you don’t show up…”
“You’ll come back and torture my orchid?” she suggested lightly.
“No.” He favored her with a slow grin. “But I will be back.”
He left whistling. She would come. For curiosity’s sake if nothing else.
CHAPTER THREE
I T FELT odd walking down the corridors where Callie had been an employee only one day before. People glanced up and did a double-take when they saw her. She smiled and held her head high. A few smiled back but she hadn’t made many friends outside of her own department—and they were all gone.
Lynnette, Grant Carver’s administrative assistant, didn’t smile. She rose from her desk and ushered Callie into Grant’s office immediately, but she didn’t look happy to do it.
The woman thinks I’m some sort of gold digger, Callie guessed perceptively. Oh well. She was protective of her boss and Callie supposed that was a good thing.
Grant rose in a courtly manner and shook hands with her, establishing the businesslike mood right away. He wore beautiful wool slacks and a crisp white shirt with a sky-blue tie—the picture of the ideal entrepreneur.
“Please have a seat, Ms. Stevens,” he said, gesturing toward the chair he’d pulled up before the desk. “I’m glad you decided to come.”
“Thank you.” She sat down feeling nervous and wondering why she’d let herself wear such a short skirt. No wonder Lynnette was leery.
“Well, let’s get right to it,” he said, barely glancing at her shapely legs before shuffling papers on his desk. “Looking over your record, I see you’ve had a few prelaw courses in college. Were you planning to go to law school?”
She hesitated. Her past was tangled with twists and turns she didn’t want to get into. “At one point, I had hopes along those lines,” she admitted.
He nodded, his gaze cool and reserved. Looking at him, she could hardly believe this was the same man she’d fallen on the night before, the same man who’d thrown her for a loop by taking his shirt off, the same man who’d appeared on her doorstep with doughnuts.
“ACW Properties has a couple of openings, but the one I would think best for you would be a position in the paralegal section of our law department,” he was saying. “Perhaps you’d be interested.”
“I don’t have any paralegal training,” she said quickly. “Don’t they usually want a certificate for that?”
He nodded, his wide mouth twitching at the corners. “They might. But I think I can get a waiver on that. Even personnel tends to do what I tell them to.”
“Oh. Of course.” He was the boss, after all. She just wasn’t used to getting favored treatment from anyone.
“You would start out as an assistant to our paralegal staff,” he said. “We would expect you to develop quickly into a fully qualified paralegal. Here’s the projected salary.”
He wrote the number on a piece of paper and passed it to her. Her eyes widened as she noted the sum.
“It’s a nice raise,” he said.
She looked across the desk, trying to read something in his eyes. It was a nice raise. Too nice. What did he really want?
“This is more than I expected,” she said mistrustfully. “What are you going to want me to do for it?”
His eyes glittered and she realized what she’d at first taken for irritation was actually humor.
“So young and yet so cynical,” he said. “I expect you to do a good job for ACW. A very good job.”
She frowned, searching his eyes. She was usually pretty good at reading people, but for some reason she couldn’t get a handle on his moods and motives today.
“I don’t get it,” she challenged. “This is too much money for a job that’s actually an assistant to an assistant.”
He shrugged. “Why don’t you turn it down, then?” he said softly, watching her like a cat watching a mouse.
“Heck no,” she said, tossing her hair back and looking him straight in the eye. “I need the money badly. I just want to make sure I know what the money is actually buying before I agree to take it.”
“I expect top-notch work and I’m willing to pay for quality.”
Funny, but she was still uneasy, feeling there was something behind what he was saying, something he was holding back. His comment about being willing to pay for quality seemed to have an added significance she just wasn’t getting.
“I won’t disappoint you,” she said.
He nodded slowly, but his eyes seemed to be seeing right through her. She waited a moment, then added a question.
“Well then, shall I start tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow?”
She frowned. What was the matter with him? He was gazing at her blankly as though his mind was a million miles away.
“Hello,” she said, waving a hand before his eyes.
“Oh, sure,” he said quickly, realizing he’d been drifting away from the conversation. “Tomorrow would be fine.”
He ran a hand through his thick hair, staring at her. His mind hadn’t been a million miles away at all. It had been right here, trying to figure out how he was going to bring up the baby thing as he’d planned to. Why couldn’t he seem to get together the right words to ask her? It had to be done. It needed to be done. And here he was, at a loss as to how he was going to do it.
This wasn’t like him. He never lacked ideas, never shrank from difficult subjects. He went after what he wanted with a singular confidence some even labeled as arrogance. It hadn’t even occurred to him that he would have trouble putting what he wanted into words. But here he was, struggling—and running through different options with no clue.
What should he say? How should he approach it? With humor? Seriousness? Casual unconcern?
Uh…Ms. Stevens? One more thing. You can qualify for a big bonus if you agree to have my baby.
Oh, yeah. That would work.
Ms. Stevens, in looking over your records, I see that you would be the perfect person to have my baby. What do you say?
He winced, knowing very well what she would say to that and not wanting to hear it aloud.
Ms. Stevens, I’m sure you know that the Carver family looms large in the history of Texas. We weren’t at the Alamo, but we were just about everywhere else. The tragedy is, I am the last in the Grant Carver line, and I need to have a son to carry on the name and the legacy. You seem to be uniquely qualified and have been selected for this honor…If you would like to contribute to the cause of Texas history…
Oh hell, that wouldn’t work, either. Why couldn’t he think of anything workable?
But maybe it was just as well. He was probably rushing things. Maybe it would be better to give it a few weeks, to let her get comfortable with him, maybe even start to trust him a little. Maybe…
“Is there something else?” She was looking at him curiously.
He sighed. “No. Not yet.”
“Not yet?”
“I mean…No. Thank you for coming in. I’ll make sure personnel has your paperwork ready in the morning.”
“Fine. I’ll see you later, then.” She rose. “And thank you, Mr. Carver. I appreciate this.”
Rising as well, he shook hands with her and said, “Till tomorrow, then.”
She threw him a last puzzled look and turned to go. It was pure fancy, he knew, but some of the light seemed to d
im as she left the room.
“Hey, Mr. Carver.”
He looked up to find Darren Evans, a bright young lawyer who had recently been hired, entering his office but looking back at where Callie was disappearing into the elevator.
“Pretty lady,” he noted, one eyebrow raised as he gestured toward her.
“Yes.” Grant frowned as Darren dumped a stack of contracts on his desk. He seemed to be a pretty good lawyer, but his reputation as a ladies’ man was beginning to loom larger than his talent.
“I heard she’s a widow. Is that right?”
“That’s right.” Grant’s frown deepened. “Why do you ask?”
“I just wanted to make sure.” Darren had a young man’s casual confidence in his own irresistibility. “I was thinking about asking her out.”
“I’m afraid you’re a little late for that,” Grant said without a second of hesitation. Every male instinct in him rose up in a makeshift defensive posture.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yes. She’s not available.”
“Really? Who…?”
“Darren, that’s really none of your business.”
“Oh. Okay.” He sighed. “That’s a shame. Early bird gets the worm, huh?”
Grant scowled at him. Darren finally seemed to notice that his boss wasn’t pleased with his company and bowed out quickly, but Grant’s mind was churning. What Darren said had opened his eyes a bit. He was beginning to realize he couldn’t fool around waiting for the right moment with Callie. If he didn’t get a commitment from her soon, she might just fall prey to some playboy like Darren Evans. He had to think of a way to approach her with it. Very soon.
But he wasn’t going to think of anything just sitting here. Rising, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets and began pacing the floor. Going to the window, he looked down. And there she was. Callie had stopped at the courtyard fountain and was gazing down into the water.
Now. He had to go now before he lost this chance. Turning on his heel, he raced out of the office, past a startled Lynnette, past the elevator, straight for the stairs. Taking them two at a time, he sailed down six floors like a downhill skier on powder, bursting out into the courtyard at full tilt and coming to a quick stop. She was still there. He was going to do it and he was going to do it now.
As he walked up behind her, he took in her trim form, her slender neck, the way her hair tumbled down her back. This was the woman he wanted as the mother of his child. And suddenly he knew that, once again, where Callie was concerned, all his plans were sailing out the window.
Had he really contemplated asking a woman like this to have his child without offering her marriage? Was he nuts? He couldn’t insult her that way. Maybe that was what had been inhibiting him—knowing it wouldn’t work no matter how gracefully he tried to put it. If he was going to do this thing, he was going to have to go all the way.
“Callie,” he said, and she turned, startled, and stared up at him, her mouth slightly open.
“Callie Stevens…” He took her hand in his and gazed down earnestly into her dark eyes. “Will you marry me?”
Tina was sitting in the middle of the living room rug, rolling a ball to Molly.
“You’re home already?” Callie said as Molly ran to greet her with little baby kisses. “I thought you were taking two jobs today.”
Tina was smiling, but her face was strained. “I got so tired, I just couldn’t go to the second one. I…I’m sorry, Callie. I know I promised you.”
“Oh, Tina, please! If you feel the least bit tired, you are to come home immediately! Don’t think twice. We don’t want you getting really sick. Molly needs you. Don’t you, pumpkin?”
Molly squealed as Callie tickled her tummy.
“But we need the money,” Tina was saying.
“No problem,” Callie said briskly, depositing the wriggling youngster in her mother’s lap. “I’ve got an armload of newspapers. I’m going to scour the ads and get my résumé pulled together tonight, then head out onto the pavement first thing in the morning. I’ll get something right away. You’ll see.” She smiled at her friend. “Don’t you worry.”
“Callie, I do worry. Things were already tight before you got laid off.”
Molly was beginning to fuss and Tina whipped out a red lollipop to tempt her with.
Callie frowned. “Should you really be giving those to her? Won’t they rot her teeth?”
“What teeth?” But Tina was joking. They both knew Molly was developing quite a set. “Don’t worry. I usually only let her have one a day and I brush her teeth right after she finishes. And also, you’ll note the stick is rubbery, so it’s not dangerous.” She sounded defensive as if she’d had to explain this to others before. Her smile was a bit watery. “They’re her favorites. She just loves them. And I feel like she got the short end of the stick in so many ways….”
Her voice trailed off and Callie regretted having said anything. Tina had enough to worry about without her best friend criticizing the way she was raising her baby.
“How did the meeting go?” Tina said, changing the subject.
Callie hesitated, wondering how much she wanted to tell. “He offered me a job. As an assistant in paralegal.”
“Great!”
Callie shook her head, feeling frazzled. Life was spinning out of control and she had to stop it somehow.
“It’s no use. I can’t take the job. The man is a raving lunatic.”
She raised a hand to stop Tina’s inevitable questions. She had to think this through before she could analyze it with her friend.
“Sorry, Tina. I really can’t talk about it right now. Maybe later.”
“Oh. Okay.” Tina’s puzzled look turned tragic. “Oh. The home called. They said they couldn’t hold your mother-in-law’s room any longer. Unless they get the extra fee by Friday, they are going to transfer her to the county facility.”
Callie felt as though she’d been slugged in the stomach. She had to struggle not to show her dismay to Tina. Instead she took a deep-cleansing breath and tried to smile.
“Oh, Callie, if it weren’t for you, she would have been there over a year ago. You’re so good to her. But I’ve got to say, I don’t understand why you’ve taken on such a big responsibility. Why do you feel she’s your burden?”
Callie thought for a moment, wondering how she could explain. “She’s my husband’s mother. She was good to me.”
“Your husband wasn’t.”
“No. But that’s not really her fault.” She shook her head. “I’m the only family she has left, and she’s the only family I’ve ever had.”
Tina sighed, looking at her own little girl as she played on the floor.
“Not many daughters would be as generous as you, not to mention daughters-in-law.” Tina shook her head. “Callie, you’ve got to look out for yourself sometimes.”
“I look after myself just fine. Don’t worry about me. I’m okay.”
She went to the kitchen and began wiping down the counters, more because she needed to be doing something than because they needed it. Her mind was still reeling from Grant Carver’s proposal. She felt as though she’d passed into an alternate universe. What he’d suggested was insane. Impossible. Outrageous.
“Will you marry me?” he’d said, and she almost fell into the fountain.
At first she’d thought he must be joking. Or playing some sort of wicked game. But he’d been so sincere and spoken so earnestly, she quickly realized he meant it. He wanted to marry her—and more. He wanted her to have a baby for him.
She supposed that shouldn’t be so shocking. After all, he’d brought it up before. She’d been trying to forget that offer ever since. He’d thought she could have a baby for him and then be the baby’s nanny. Fat chance! That had been just a little too cold-blooded for her and she’d told him so.
But now he’d upped the ante. He’d brought marriage into it.
And yet, what difference did that make? He was still basically proposin
g to pay her to have a baby for him. People didn’t do things like that.
Well, they did, but…
He brought up that day he’d seen her in the fertility clinic, and she had to admit she’d been looking into the feasibility of having a baby with artificial insemination—that she wanted a baby just as badly as he did. That she, like him, didn’t want to marry again. And that she hadn’t been able to go through with it.
But that didn’t mean she was ready to marry Grant Carver, no matter how hard he argued that it would be more a business proposition than a real marriage. That would be crazy.
She pulled open the refrigerator and took out an onion and some carrots. Taking them to the cutting board, she began to cut them up into small pieces, chopping hard, and at the same time, she tried to think about something else. Anything else.
But her mind had blotted everything else out. All she could think about was this insane issue.
What right did Grant have to come into her life and turn it upside down? She’d been perfectly happy…Well, maybe not perfectly happy. In fact, maybe a bit stressed. But still. He’d brought up things she didn’t want to think about. Like what did she actually plan to do with her life?
Not get married. That was for sure. After all, it wasn’t as though she expected to meet her prince charming in the next few years. It had been six long years since Ralph had died and she hadn’t met one man whom she would remotely consider marrying.
Okay, maybe just one. But that one was Grant Carver. So why wasn’t she considering him?
Because he doesn’t love you, stupid!
At least he was honest about it.
And yet, a little tiny part of her brain was whispering, “What if…?”
No!
Better a life of lonely misery than marrying a man who didn’t love her.
She stopped for a moment, frowning. Was she really thinking this through? Or just spouting slogans?
Her thoughts were still swirling when a really startling epiphany popped into her head. If she did what Grant wanted, she would be making life better for four other people. And that wasn’t even counting herself.
No! Impossible. There had to be another way.