by Emma Roberts
“Phoebe Mason,” she said with a grin. “And she’s surprisingly good. I have her doing hair and makeup and small-time jobs.”
I stared at her, my lips pursed in fury. “You let her join up? Why in the hell would you do that?”
The woman who’d tried to blackmail Logan into marriage was now sleeping in the halls of Hustler Headquarters? Unacceptable.
Heather pursed her lips right back at me. “You signed the company over to me, remember? I get to make decisions. Besides, she’s an asset.”
Deciding that silence was the better part of valor, I stabbed at the quarter slice of an heirloom tomato on my plate and held in a cutting response.
Heather popped her fork into her mouth and made an exaggerated moan. “Can I just move the Hustlers to Paris, please? I’d kill to eat like this every day.”
“Don’t taunt the pregnant woman, Heather,” I retorted. “It won’t end well. I don’t care that you’re my friend. There’s only so far the bonds of sisterhood stretch.”
She chuckled and finished off the last of her salad with relish. She glanced out at the bustling Paris street and rested a hand over mine. “Are you happy, Mina?”
“I am.” And I could say so with a completely straight face, no lies required. No careful avoidance of my feelings, as had always been before. Somewhere in my heart of hearts, I’d always known I needed Logan to be happy. We were connected at the soul. It wasn’t always easy, but it was right.
Heather and I had spent most of the evening catching up, and the sun was beginning to set over the Paris skyline. It was almost time to let her go back to her hotel room, before her flight left tomorrow morning. No matter how happy my little life was, I missed her. I missed my girls.
Sighing, I stood along with Heather, gearing up the strength to say goodbye and waddle out to a cab, when it happened.
A gush of warm liquid ran down my legs, soaking through my skirt and wetting my shoes. I stared in shock as it pooled beneath me on the floor.
Heather glanced back when I didn’t immediately join her, and gaped. “Oh my God, Mina. Did you just...?”
“My water just broke,” I confirmed in a horrified whisper.
I’d been having cramps in my back all day long, but I’d written them off as Braxton Hicks. I’d been having the same contractions since the start of the third trimester, but the doctor had assured me they were nothing to worry about. Just a practice run before the real thing. But now, the real thing was here.
“Call Logan,” I panted. “Please.”
“Screw that, I’m calling an ambulance. Then I’ll call Logan.”
I didn’t argue with her. I clutched the table with white-knuckled hands. Now that my water had broken, the pain seemed infinitely worse.
It took seven long minutes for an ambulance to arrive and another ten to get to the hospital. Heather had been allowed to ride beside me, and I clutched her hand for dear life. But I needed Logan.
Heather fished her cell phone from her pocket as it rang, and pressed it to her ear as I was transferred from the ambulance and onto a gurney. “She’s headed to maternity right now. Her water broke during dinner. Get your ass down here right now!”
It wasn’t long before I was in a room and a doctor was poking and prodding me.
“Your baby is crowning,” he informed me. “I’m going to need you to start pushing.”
“Pushing? No! I can’t. My husband isn’t here yet!”
The doctor fixed me with a steady look, his gray eyes seeming to chastise me, even from the foot of the bed. “This baby is coming whether you like it or not. It will be less traumatic for you both if you do as I say.”
“I’m here,” Heather assured me, gripping my hand in hers. “C’mon, Mina. Let’s do this. Logan will get here soon.”
I wracked my brain to remember the breathing patterns that we’d been taught in class, and inhaled an exhaled as I bore down for the first time.
Even with the IV pain medication I’d been hooked up to, the searing pain was possibly the worst thing I’d ever felt. Forget being choked out in Morocco. Piece of cake. Punched in the face by one of my employees? I’d take that in a heartbeat. It felt like someone was trying to pry me open. And they were.
Logan burst into the room, almost bowling over one of the nurses to get to me. His face was pale and he was shaking. It was the most uncomposed I’d seen him since he’d rescued me from the traffickers, eight months ago.
Heather obligingly rounded the bed so he could take my hand. She slid hers into the other and continued her litany. “You can do this! Just one more.”
The worst pressure I’d ever experienced in my life seemed to coalesce between my legs. I let out a short scream of protest and did what my body demanded, bearing down with all my might. Then, the pain was gone and the nurses were scrambling.
There was a flurry of motion, and I got a glimpse of Logan’s triumphant expression. A flash of silver scissors, and then a small weight was plopped down onto my chest.
A tiny, dazed baby with bright blue eyes stared up at me. Even through the muck still coating her, I could tell she had her daddy’s dark hair, but it was my determined expression that she wore as she blinked back at me out of that tiny, beautiful face.
The nurses whisked her away and weighed her, cleaned her, and swaddled her in a baby blanket before she was returned to me. For those few minutes, my arms felt achingly empty.
“Do you have a name?” a nurse asked once the baby had suckled and nestled down on my chest to sleep.
“Heather,” I said, glancing up at my friend with a smile. She beamed back at me. “Heather Julia Farraday.”
It only seemed fair that my daughter should be named after my two best friends. One who’d stood by me through the worst, and the one who’d lifted me out of my old life and given me a new one.
I glanced up at Logan. “Is that alright? Would you rather name her Katherine, after your sister?”
He beamed down at me, brushing one finger over the baby’s downy head. “Heather sounds perfect.” He kissed my temple. “You did great.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Yes, you could have. But I’m glad you didn’t have to. I’m so grateful we found each other again.”
And so was I. I couldn’t imagine how empty my life would be without Logan and my baby girl in it. And I owed everything to the woman who’d tried to ruin me forever.
Life could be funny sometimes, especially when your greatest enemy became the love of your life, the reason for existing, and the father of your child.
“Me too, Logan,” I whispered. “Me too.”
The End
Thank you so much for reading Saved By The Enemy! I hope you love Logan and Mina.
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