by Maya Blake
Then had come the bracing, inevitable acceptance that I wasn’t the victim of lingering flu, or a stomach bug that only attacked in the morning, but that, yes, I was capable of conceiving immaculately.
Shock.
Disbelief.
A brief spurt of searing anger at Neo Xenakis and his lies.
Followed by that ever-present tug of despair. That feeling of unworthiness. That cruel little reminder that my own blueprint was flawed.
But even while despair lodged a heavy stone in my chest there also came a quiet, even more bewildering...elation. Even though I was twenty-five, working jobs that paid a pittance and on the brink of homelessness with a mother who’d promised me, when I finally broke down and begged her to seek help, to combat her growing gambling addiction but had since regressed—as evidenced by the online betting pages I’d spotted on her phone yesterday.
That crushing list of failings was what had overwhelmed me last night. Made me pretend to be asleep when my mother entered the bedroom we shared.
Elation should be the farthest emotion on my reality spectrum.
A hysterical thought flitted across my mind. Perhaps I should have taken a gamble on myself. I’d be wildly wealthy and down one less problem by now. Because, despite all the odds against it, I’d fallen pregnant with Neo Xenakis’s baby after one utterly misguided folly.
A baby...
Sweet heaven...
I can’t father children...
The lie had dripped so smoothly, so convincingly from his lips. And I’d believed him. Had even hurt for him. When all he’d been doing was cruelly toying with my emotions.
Had he seen my feverish desire to stay anchored, connected, for just a little while, and viciously exploited it as some sort of payback? Did the man I’d given myself to, in an act I suspected had involved more than just the physical, bear traits of the father who’d so callously rejected me...?
‘Sadie, dear, are you sure you’re all right? You’ve gone as white as a ghost.’
I swallowed the encroaching nausea and a bubble of lurking panic, thankful that my mother hadn’t noticed that on top of my pseudo-flu I was also plagued by bouts of vomiting.
‘I’m not sick, Mum. Really,’ I said, infusing as much warmth into my voice as possible.
‘Okay, well...if you’re sure. I’m going back to bed. Have a good day at work.’
She left the kitchen after sliding a comforting hand down my back. Absurdly, the gesture made my eyes prickle.
I blinked the tears away, forced myself to revisit the subject that filled me with equal parts anger and dread: relaying the news to Neo.
His last tersely worded warning before tossing me out of his penthouse still lingered, two months on. And I believed he’d meant what he’d said.
Then, of course.
But in light of this life-changing news...
I wouldn’t know until I tried. Again.
My initial attempts to contact Neo had met a brick wall, with a few snooty receptionists even threatening to block my number if I kept trying to reach their illustrious boss. Apparently Neo had issued word that I was persona non grata.
Initially aggrieved by the realisation, I’d stopped trying to reach him for all of three days, before accepting that this reality wasn’t going to go away.
Neo needed to learn of his child’s existence sooner rather than later. And answer a few pointed questions in the process...
Since returning to his building and risking arrest or worse was out of the question, I ventured onto social media—only to discover that the Xenakis family were embroiled in the kind of publicity that drove the tabloids wild.
Apparently, in the last few weeks, Neo’s older brother Axios had returned from a brief trip abroad with his young wife in tow. A wife whose previous absence had been highly conspicuous, fuelling all kinds of scandalous speculation.
Now, not only had the young Mrs Xenakis returned from her mysterious absence without explanation, she’d apparently given birth while she was away. The reunited family had asked for privacy, but already several shots of a baby boy, Andreos Xenakis, had been leaked to the media. He was a gorgeous baby, who bore all the strong characteristics of possessing the Xenakis DNA.
How was Neo taking the news? And, the more important question, how would he take my news?
It was only eight o’clock. My temp job didn’t start until ten. That gave me a little time to attempt to reach Neo again.
Distaste at the thought of stalking him online lingered as I powered up my laptop. The first headline I found made my stomach drop.
Xenakis Aeronautics Soars to New Heights in the Far East.
Exhaling shakily, I read the article, calming down when I saw it focused mostly on Axios Xenakis and his spearheading of the airline conglomerate’s global expansion. Neo would be taking over the European arm of the company, starting with relocating to Athens with immediate effect.
The article was two weeks old. Which meant Neo might now be even further out of reach.
Suppressing the strong bite of despondency, I scribbled down the numbers of the Athens office, shut down the laptop and rushed to the bathroom just in time to heave.
A quick shower and a judiciously nibbled slice of dry toast later, I picked up my bag and headed for the door—only to pause when my mother called out.
‘Oh, Sadie, when you can, do you think you can buy me some data for my phone? I seem to have run out.’
Desolation deadened my feet. The urge to tell her that I was barely holding it together emotionally and financially, never mind providing a conduit for her addiction, tripped on the edge of my tongue. But I was woefully ill-equipped for a replay of the inevitable tears and depression that had dogged Martha Preston’s life since her husband’s cruel desertion. As much as I wanted to dish out tough love, I could barely hold myself together, and nor could I afford to lose another job because I was late.
Vowing to tackle the subject again that evening, I shut the door behind me.
The morning trundled by in the tedium of filing and answering phones.
After using the first minutes of my late lunch break to calm my nerves, I dialled the number I’d saved.
One minute later I hung up, my ears ringing after a crisp, accented voice informed me that while Mr Xenakis was indeed at his office in Athens, he did not accept unsolicited calls.
No amount of pleading had shifted the receptionist’s stance.
In the middle of the busy London park, I gritted my teeth and resisted the urge to scream. Or dissolve into helpless tears. Instead, on a desperate urge, I called up the web page of a budget airline, my heart racing when I saw a same-day return flight to Athens.
It would put further strain on my tight bank balance, and would require even more ruthless financial rationing, but the temp agency had no placement for me tomorrow and I had nothing planned for the weekend besides tormenting myself with the many ways my failed childhood might affect my baby...
Without stopping to debate the wisdom of it, I booked the ticket.
Regardless of his reasons for stating a blatant untruth, I owed Neo the news that he was going to be a father. Just as he’d deserved to know of my mistake at the Phoenix Clinic.
Would he think it was another unforgivable mistake?
Would he walk away even sooner than my father had?
It didn’t matter.
No. It matters. It’s why you won’t stop shaking.
I smothered the voice, shrugging mentally. For good or ill, I was going to beard the formidable lion that was Neo Xenakis in his den one more time.
But this time, I was suitably armed with what to expect.
The seat of the Xenakis airline empire was housed in a sprawling ten-storey building that took up a whole city block in the centre of Athens. Security was twice as tight as in London, but this tim
e I didn’t linger outside. The brief, succinct note I’d hastily written in the taxi ride and shoved into an envelope trembled in my hand as I approached the ultramodern reception desk.
Before the efficient-looking receptionist could voice the disdain lurking in her eyes, I held out the envelope. ‘It’s essential that Mr Xenakis sees this immediately.’
Whatever expression she read on my face halted her answer. Rising, she took the note and walked away.
I retreated to the nearest set of expensive club chairs, arranged to maximise the appreciation of the stunning marble-floored, three-storey atrium that formed the welcoming entry into the world of Xenakis Aeronautics, the words of the note echoing in my head:
Mr Xenakis,
I’m downstairs in your lobby.
It’s in your interest to give me ten minutes of your time.
I’m certain you’ll regret it if you don’t.
Sadie
Bold words, which would either grant me an audience or fritter away the mercy he’d shown me by not asking Wendell to break out the handcuffs that day in London.
I looked up to see Wendell heading my way, as if summoned by my thought. My heart dropped, but I refused to look away.
‘If you’re here to throw me out, you should know that I’ll simply turn around and come straight back. Maybe you should tell your boss that?’
His expression didn’t change. ‘Mr Xenakis will see you now.’
I swallowed my surprise and followed him.
This time, knowing the calibre of the man who waited behind another set of imposing doors, I tightened my gut, sure I could mitigate the effect.
I was wrong.
Being on his home turf had heaped another layer of magnificent appeal upon a man who already held more than his fair share. In the sunlight that filtered through wide, rectangular windows, his dark hair gleamed. A skin-skimming stubble highlighted his strong jaw, and with that sexy dimple in his chin it was impossible to stop the flare of heat that attacked my body, robbing me of vital breath for precious seconds.
The matching jacket to his tailored grey trousers hung on a hook in the far corner of his office, leaving him in a pristine white shirt that moulded his broad shoulders and powerful biceps.
Terrified I was already losing the fight for composure, I hurried to speak. To get this over with.
‘Thank you for seeing me, Mr Xenakis.’
Eyes that had been conducting a slow, thorough scrutiny of me rose to fix on my face. ‘Miss Preston.’ His voice was grave. ‘I’m beginning to think you have some sort of death wish. Or do you simply relish testing my patience?’
‘Neither. Believe me, this is the last place I want to be.’
His arrogant head cocked. ‘I sense the inevitable but coming,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘Although I have no earthly idea what it could be.’
Despite his words, he narrowed his eyes, as if he fully suspected a scam. Or worse.
Say it. Just say it and leave.
I sucked in a breath that went nowhere near replenishing my lungs or giving me the courage I craved. ‘I’m pregnant. The baby is yours. I thought you should know.’
Deathly silence echoed in the vast office. Then he inhaled sharply, the white-hot sound sizzling across the large room.
‘Christos, you do have a death wish,’ he breathed in sizzling disbelief, and his face, unlike last time, when there’d been shock and bleak despair, was a picture of complete and utter fury.
‘I don’t, I assure you. But—’
‘Then you’ve taken complete leave of your senses. Because that can be the only viable explanation for this—’ He stopped abruptly, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.
For one mad moment I wanted to say yes. That only a peculiar strain of madness would explain why I couldn’t look away from his face, why I couldn’t quite catch my breath in his presence.
‘The door is behind you. Use it right now or I won’t be held responsible for my actions.’
It was a hushed entreaty, perhaps even a final attempt at civility for a man hanging by a thread.
Considering I’d jumped on a plane with little hope of being granted even this audience, I was surprised I’d got this far. But complete dismissal wasn’t what I’d expected.
The urge to linger, to make him believe, if only for the sake of telling my baby someday that I’d tried, fired through me—along with the question that still demanded an answer. The question about his false statement, the consequences of which had certainly taken me by surprise.
But Neo’s face was turning even more ashen, his chest rising and falling in rapid shudders as he remained frozen in place.
‘Why?’ The question was ragged, torn from his soul.
‘Excuse me?’
He prowled forward several steps, granting me a better look at his face. And there it was. That look of desolation.
‘Why would you do this? Did someone put you up to it? As a joke, perhaps?’ he asked from between whitened lips. ‘Or a bet?’
‘We don’t move in the same circles, Mr Xenakis. Nor am I friendly with anyone who would deliberately cause someone distress with such a prank.’
‘Then tell me why?’
There was a tinge of desperation in his question. Of bewilderment.
‘Because it’s the truth!’
He jerked forward again, his throat moving as his eyes drilled into me. ‘No, it’s not. As I told you in London, I’m incapable of fathering children. Three years ago the best doctors in the world delivered that staggering news. And do you know what I did?’
Numb, I shook my head, my anger at his lies dissipating in the face of the searing emotion in his eyes.
‘I found a set of doctors with better credentials than the original set. Guess what? They arrived at the same conclusion. So now do you see how what you’re saying is impossible?’
Why?
Where?
How?
Questions flashed through my brain even while I accepted that this wasn’t the time or place.
I licked lips gone dry with growing anxiety. ‘I can’t speak to your experience. All I can tell you is my truth.’
If anything, his fury grew. ‘Does this truth involve a lapsed memory on your part?’
I shook my head. ‘I’m sorry—you’ve lost me.’
His jaw turned to steel. ‘You wouldn’t be the first woman to find herself in this situation and devise a plan to pass another man’s child off as—’
‘Don’t you dare finish that sentence!’
‘Because it’s much closer to this “truth” you seek to ram down my throat?’
‘Because it’s most definitely guaranteed to get you slapped! And while we’re throwing accusations around, what about what you said to me?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘You assured me I had nothing to worry about. You said I couldn’t get pregnant! That it was impossible.’
‘And I have a file of medical reports to back that up. What do you have?’ he snarled.
‘I have that immaculate conception you wished for, apparently. Because three pregnancy tests last week and a trip to the doctor confirms that I’m carrying a baby. Your baby!’
He shook his head, started to speak.
I held up my hand. ‘It’s fine if you don’t want to believe me. I don’t care.’
‘You do care or you wouldn’t be here. Or be crying,’ he grated.
Belatedly, I registered the dampness on my cheek. Hating myself for that weakness, I dashed my hand across my cheek. Only to feel more tears spilling.
‘It must be a side effect of being repeatedly labelled a liar. Or... I don’t know... Pregnancy hormones. But, no matter what, this was the right thing to do. And now it’s done.’
There—you’ve said your piece. Now leave.
> But my feet refused to move.
His eyes narrowed with laser focus. ‘If there truly is a baby, does the news distress you that much?’
‘Yes! You lulled me into a false sense of security, made me think I had the flu when I’m pregnant!’
He went a little pale, his movements jerky as he closed the gap between us. ‘And what would you have done if I’d told you two months ago that there was this possibility, hmm? Considered your options without me in the picture, perhaps?’
‘Watch your tone, Mr Xenakis. The last thing you should be doing is lounging on that lofty perch and looking down your nose at me. What happened between us was consensual. What happened with the condom was unfortunate. You do not have the right to question my character. Considering the way we parted, do you really think I would be here, right now, if that was my intention?’
He seemed lost for words even as his gaze scoured my face, dissecting my words.
‘You said yourself you only verified the pregnancy a week ago. That means you’re about two months along. It’s not too late for other options. Maybe that’s your plan? To leverage those options?’
His insult sank in, sharp as a stiletto blade. ‘God, you can’t help yourself, can you?’ I realised I’d screamed the words only after they came out.
He frowned. ‘Calm yourself, Sadie.’
‘If you want me to calm down, then stop upsetting me—Neo!’
He sucked in a deep breath, then another. Then he whirled around, dragging his fingers through his hair. Swift strides put the width of the room between us and I watched him stare out of the window at the Friday afternoon traffic, tension riding his shoulders.
Walking out through the door should’ve been easy, but again that stubborn need to have him believe me held me rooted to the spot.
So when he abruptly grated, ‘Perhaps we should discuss this further. Take a seat. Please,’ I glared at his back for all of half a second before stumbling over to one of the twin plush sofas positioned tastefully at one side of his office.
