The Boss's Pregnancy Proposal

by Raye Morgan

  She rinsed the washcloth she’d used on the counter and started toward the refrigerator, but noticed that Tina had put the mail on the kitchen table. She leafed through the envelopes. Nothing but bills. A gnawing ache had settled in the pit of her stomach.

  And then she came to a note at the bottom of the stack. It was from Karen, the apartment building manager.

  “Callie, I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to have this month’s rent check by Friday or…”

  The ache became a sharp pain and she gasped, clutching her midsection. Tears filled her eyes. She’d been close to the edge before, but this time she was hanging on by her fingernails. What was she going to do? Even if she took the job Grant had offered with its new salary, it wouldn’t come close to covering all the expenses she was drowning in.

  “Ca-ee.”

  Callie looked down. There was Molly, tugging on her skirt. She smiled at the adorable child. Grant had lost a little girl very much like this one. For just a moment, she could catch a hint of how horrible that must be for him.

  Molly reached up with her chubby arms and Callie leaned down to lift her. The baby stared at the tears in Callie’s eyes, then reached out and touched one on her cheek with the end of a tiny finger. Her mouth opened in surprise when her finger came back wet.

  Callie laughed and let Molly wipe away the rest of her tears, one by one. Hugging her close, she dropped a kiss on the top of her curly head, marveling at how the sweetness of the child helped to wash away a lot of the fear.

  She so longed for a baby of her own and holding Molly just brought that ache front and center. A baby was something real and permanent.

  Everything in her life had always been so temporary. She’d never known her father. Her mother had been the sort of woman who needed a man in her life, yet couldn’t keep one for more than a few months. After her mother died, she’d lived in foster homes. Nothing real, solid, enduring. Her life was always in flux with nothing to hold on to.

  When she’d married Ralph, she’d thought that would be it. She would have something lasting. It hadn’t taken her long to realize that hope was just as big a failure as all the others. Ralph as a suitor was very different from the man she ended up married to. Once again she was on her own.

  She knew that was one reason she was so drawn to having a child. A child wasn’t temporary. A child was forever. A child was tenderness and trust and a stake in destiny.

  A baby filled your arms with more than soft, clean-smelling flesh. A baby filled your arms with love and happiness and hope for the future. She wanted that. She needed it.

  And if she was honest, she would admit that Grant could make all that possible. And at the same time, she could make it possible for him.

  She could give that to Grant.

  She had the power to do it.

  She could give that to herself.

  Did she have the nerve to do it?

  CHAPTER FOUR

  N EGOTIATIONS had begun.

  The setting was a trendy café with reflective surfaces and hard edges. The mood was wary and exploratory. The outcome was uncertain.

  “So how would this work exactly?” Callie asked, trying very hard to be cool, calm and collected while her stomach was manufacturing butterflies in herds. “I think we should be very clear on all the details from the start, so we both know where we stand.”

  Grant nodded. “To start with, what we’re talking about here is a business deal, not a love match,” he said, gazing at her levelly across a tile-covered table.

  He’d said that before. She had no doubt he was going to say it again. Many times.

  “Yes. I understand that.”

  At least, she thought she did. When you came right down to it, she wasn’t sure she knew what a “love match” was. She wasn’t sure she even believed in them. When she’d married Ralph, she’d done it out of gratitude, not passion. She’d known right from the beginning that love had very little to do with it.

  She didn’t even think there’d been much love on Ralph’s part. There had been an obsession—but it was an obsession with control. They’d gone very quickly from being good friends to wary adversaries and she wasn’t sure how or why it had happened that way. She only knew she didn’t want that to happen here—if she decided to do this crazy thing.

  “In fact,” Grant was saying, his hands curled around a large mug of coffee, “when I first started thinking about it, as you know, marriage wasn’t really a part of the plan.”

  “Well, it is now,” she said quickly. “In fact, it’s a deal breaker.”

  He nodded. “I know. Don’t worry.” He smiled at her in a reassuring way. “I feel the same way, now that I’ve thought it through.”

  “Good.”

  She was trying hard to seem composed, but he could sense her unease and he hesitated, wanting to get this right. He’d deliberately chosen a rather noisy, modish restaurant for this meeting. He hadn’t wanted white linen tablecloths and roses, with violins in the background. Techno music and hard surfaces made a better match for their purposes. It would be best to hammer out the future guidelines for their relationship in a cool, neutral atmosphere. No emotions allowed.

  Yesterday had been a day from hell. He’d been so clumsy, practically assaulting her with his appeal that she marry him. He’d tried to explain, tried to tell her about his family heritage, and his own overwhelming need for a child. She thought at first that he was joking. Then she thought he was crazy. She’d placed a few well-aimed barbs in his hide and taken off, flinging a demand that he not ever, ever contact her again behind her as she left.

  And who could blame her? He’d done a lousy job of making his case. So he’d spent the night pacing the floor of his penthouse apartment, trying to think of a better way to approach her. He was usually good at this sort of thing. There were some who said he could charm the socks off a cat, but his natural abilities seemed to fade away when his emotions were involved so strongly.

  And that was why emotions had to be controlled, tamped down—blotted out if possible.

  When she didn’t show up for work in the morning, he knew he’d really made a mess of it. By noon, he’d been about to go out to her apartment and break down her door if he had to. And then Lynnette had looked into his office with news.

  “There’s someone here to see you,” she’d said, seeming disapproving.

  When Callie appeared in his doorway, his heart had been thumping so loud, he was afraid they could hear it in the lunchroom.

  “I’ve calmed down,” she said, looking at him warily. “And I’d like to talk things over.”

  So here they were in The ZigZag Café, surrounded by young twenty-somethings, meeting and greeting and listening to electronic music that made his teeth hurt. But they were keeping emotions out of it. Sort of.

  “I think we ought to pin down just what exactly you would expect out of this,” she said, putting down her café latte and looking like a lawyer ready to take a statement from the witness.

  “Sure. I expect—” He stopped himself, then purposely relaxed. “No, let’s put it this way. I hope for a child. With his mother attached. I hope for a warm family group. I’d like to end up with some basic emotional support, and I expect to give the same to you.”

  She nodded, biting her lip. “Like good friends?” she asked, looking skeptical.

  “Like good friends,” he agreed.

  She frowned thoughtfully. That worried her. It sounded too familiar. But she didn’t see an alternative.

  “If I agree to do this, what happens if…” She swallowed hard and avoided his bright gaze. “What happens if it doesn’t pan out?”

  He had to work hard to keep from grinning at her. He could tell she was getting closer and closer to saying “yes.” He drummed his fingers on the tile table to keep from showing what he was thinking, how excitement was growing in him, deep down.

  “We’ll negotiate an agreement to include things like that.”

  She managed to smile and tried to
make a joke. “If that happens, I suppose, like Henry the Eighth, you’ll move on and find your Anne Boleyn somewhere.”

  He smiled back. “So you’re channeling Catherine of Aragon now?”

  She shrugged. “Better a divorce than losing my head.”

  He winced. “I’m having my lawyer draw up a contract,” he said. “It will cover all contingencies.”

  “Fine. If we end up doing this, I’ll have my lawyer look it over.” As if she had one. Well, she would have one before things were finalized. “I’ll get back to you on what changes we’ll want.”

  He shook his head, studying her through narrowed eyes. “Why do you assume there will need to be changes?”

  Her smile was brittle. “Because I’m sure this would be made from your point of view. That’s only natural. But I’m bound to have my own concerns. Equal time.”

  He nodded slowly, reminding himself that he was going to have to take her thoughts into account. This wasn’t like hiring an employee, really. It was going to be more like a partnership. That gave him a momentary qualm. He did like to be in control. But then he relaxed and congratulated himself on being so perceptive—and magnanimous.

  A partnership. Of course.

  Callie seemed to be reading his mind.

  “You do understand that I couldn’t have a baby and then just hand him over to you,” she said, looking him straight in the eye. “I won’t be a surrogate mother. I’d be in this for parenthood as much as you are.”

  “Absolutely.” He frowned, trying to make out what was hidden in her eyes. “So tell me, Callie. I want to know why you’re considering this. What is it that you expect?”

  She took a deep breath. “A good father for my child. A protected situation to raise my child in.”

  “Exactly what I plan to provide.” He was having a hard time containing himself. “Callie, we can do this thing. We can have a child together. Are you starting to feel how possible this is?”

  “Maybe.” She hesitated and steeled herself. Now came the hard part. “But I’ve got to admit, there’s more. I’ve got to be totally honest with you. I really, really want a baby. It’s a desire that almost consumes me at times. But there’s another factor going into this.” Taking a deep breath, she went on. “I’m in major financial difficulties right now.”

  There. The words were out. And she felt horrible about it. She glanced quickly at his eyes. Was he radiating contempt? Was he sneering? To her surprise, it didn’t seem to be that way.

  “No problem,” he was saying, waving it away as though money was no object. “Just let me know what you need.”

  “No!” She said that a bit too loud and looked around quickly. Luckily the music had hidden her cry, but she leaned in closer. “No, really. It’s not like that. What I would want to do is to keep working as long as I possibly can.”

  “Why would you do that?” he broke in. “You don’t need to.”

  “Yes, I do. I can’t just…”

  “Callie, we’ll play it by ear. Whatever feels most comfortable for you, that’s what we’ll do.”

  She closed her eyes for a moment. He was being almost too nice about this. She didn’t deserve it. But then, he did want something from her.

  Looking at him earnestly, she quickly tried to explain her dilemma, how she desperately needed to pay for her mother-in-law’s nursing care, how she wanted to be in the position to get the best medical help possible for Tina—how she was so far in debt both goals were completely out of reach at the moment.

  “So you see, all my motives are not so pure,” she told him, chin high but bright spots in her cheeks. “If I do this with you, I have to know if you will be willing to help me financially. Purely as a loan,” she added quickly. “Believe me, I’ll pay back every penny. But if this is going to be a problem, even just a nagging thing with the potential to build…”

  Watching her, he could see how hard this was for her to ask. Didn’t she understand how laughably easy it would be for him to do this for her? No. In a flash of perception, he knew she did understand that. Still, she felt this would look like she was offering herself up for sale and she hated that.

  Hey. No problem. He could take care of something so simple, so why not do it? There would be plenty of difficult things down the road. Get rid of the small stuff.

  “Callie…” Reaching out across the table, he took her hand in his and held it. “It’s done. I’ll have my accountant call you and arrange for what you need.”

  She flushed and tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “Listen to me. It’s done. I won’t even be personally involved.” His gaze darkened. “And it’s not contingent on our plans. You can walk away and think it over and decide against marrying me, and it’s still done. Consider the matter closed.” He smiled at her doubtful look. “Now let’s get back to baby talk. What’ll we name him?”

  Her eyes stung and there was a sudden large lump in her throat. To think he could so casually wave a magic wand and take a weight off her shoulders that had been threatening to crush her. She wanted to thank him, but she couldn’t speak. And now it was she who was holding tightly to his hand.

  “Why, Grant Carver, you handsome man, you!”

  They both jumped and Grant jerked away from Callie’s hand as though it had suddenly turned white-hot. He looked up at the tall, beautiful woman who’d stopped by their table, then rose to his feet to greet her.

  “Amy. How nice to see you.”

  “Oh, Grant!”

  The woman came in for a hug and clung to him so long, he had to peel her off his chest.

  “This is Callie Stevens,” he said, looking a little grumpy and stepping back so she couldn’t do that again. “Callie, this is Amy Barnes, an old friend.”

  Amy nodded to Callie but it was obvious she only had eyes for Grant. As slender and sleek as a high fashion model, she was wearing a tight designer suit that had probably cost about as much as Callie’s car.

  “I’m here with the girls,” she said, gesturing toward where three other women who could have been her clones waited, giggling and looking coy. “We’re having lunch. Isn’t this the most adorable place? I love the music. It just makes me want to dance.” She did a little two-step to demonstrate, looking as provocative as possible. “Listen, honey, why don’t you come over and say hi to the girls? They’d love it if you did.”

  Grant looked as though he’d been asked to eat a bug. “Uh…well, you see, Ms. Stevens and I are in a kind of a meeting about something important right now. And I’m afraid—”

  “Oh.” She flashed a false smile Callie’s way. “Well, okay then. But you call me, ya hear? We need to get together and talk over old times. You know…” She moved closer and spoke in a hushed voice. “It’s Jan’s birthday next week. I think we really should—”

  “I’ll give you a call,” he said hastily. “Give my best to the girls.”

  He dropped back down into his seat as she sashayed her way across the room.

  “My wife’s best friend,” he said by way of explanation.

  She nodded, glancing surreptitiously toward the women and wondering if his wife had been one of that type as well. If so, was he going to be satisfied with a complete change of pace? He was in for a major culture shock.

  But she pushed that thought away, because adding it to her other doubts would put her brain on overload. She just didn’t have room for more. She had a big decision to make. Whatever she decided, it was going to change her life for good.

  She took a good long, penetrating look at the man sitting opposite her. Could she marry him? Could she live with him? How well did she really know him?

  Well enough, she decided. Yes, she knew a lot about him when you came right down to it. And the fact that he was impossibly attractive didn’t hurt. If he’d been a small, cramped, ugly man who had an annoying voice, would she have been able to marry him?

  Luckily she didn’t have to answer that, because no one was going to ask her.

 
“Okay,” he was saying, glancing at his watch. “I’ve got to get back to the office. You go home and think it over.”

  “How much time do I have?”

  He thought for a moment, looking at her warmly. “How about twenty-four hours?” he said. “I’ll pick you up for dinner tomorrow at five. We’ll talk it out then. Okay?”

  She nodded slowly, then frowned. “I don’t suppose you’d be up for making a list of your bad points, just so I’d have something to mull over?” she asked.

  He threw back his head and laughed. “Not on your life. It’s all good, Callie. It’s all going to be good.”

  It’s all going to be good.

  She wished she could believe that. A lifetime of bad outcomes had trained her to expect the worst. That was why she called Grant the next morning and told him she couldn’t do it.

  “I’ll be right over,” he said.

  “No,” she countered quickly. “It’s no use. I’m going out. You can’t change my mind.”

  “Why, Callie?”

  She drew in a deep breath and sighed. “There is one big fat obstacle we didn’t cover, and the more I think about it, the more I think it will doom our plans, no matter how careful we are.”

  “And that is…?”

  “Love.”

  “Love?” His voice was hoarse. “I thought we’d settled that. We’re against it.”

  “It’s all very well to say this is totally a business deal, based on mutual benefits and ruled by facts and logic. But once we’re married, we’ll be together a lot. What if one of us loses our objectivity and…” She searched for the right words. “How are we going to guarantee we can keep this on a business level?”

  He was silent for a moment. “That’s a tricky one, I’ll admit. In order to do this at all we have to have a certain affection for each other. We have to like each other.”

  “And I think we do,” she said almost reluctantly.

  “Absolutely. But neither of us wants any emotional entanglement. You don’t want a reprise of your marriage, do you?”

  “Heaven forbid.” She sighed. If only he knew how bad that had been. “But, Grant, there’s still the danger of—well, one of us starting to care too much.”