Knocked-Up Cinderella

by Julie Hammerle

  “Physically.” I touched her sternum. “I’ll definitely be here mentally, believe me. But I have to go to Tokyo”—I rolled my eyes—“again. The good news is that I’m only going there for Fumetsu to sign the papers. I’ll be back in a few days.”

  Her face softened. “Okay, then. When you get back, we’ll do this again.”

  “And again and again and again.” I kissed her cheek. “And in the meantime, we can text like teenagers in love.”

  “Maybe chat while watching a movie together like that one night?”

  “Definitely,” I said. “Then I’ll be back by next weekend, and we can pick up exactly where we left off.”

  …

  Erin

  “So, we’re all set then, sponsor wise?” I rested my elbows on my desk. Maria Minnesota sat across from me. Katie had once again perched on the couch near the window, taking notes.

  “I think we’re on track,” Maria said. Normally I didn’t get all insecure around other women, but Maria the travel blogger was the exception. She was always super nice, but also incredibly put together, and I felt like Grimace the McDonald’s character around her—all bloated and purple and shapeless.

  “Fantastic.” I closed my folder. Meeting adjourned. I needed her to leave so I could hop in my car and grab a burger at the nearest drive-thru. When I saw Dana earlier this week, on Monday, she told me my iron was low, so I took that as a license to stop at Wendy’s every chance I got.

  “I just wanted to say…” Maria, not taking the hint that her cue to leave had come and gone, remained in her seat. In fact, she’d uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, like she was prepared to spend another hour here, chatting. “Ian told me about the baby. I think it’s great that you’re doing the whole parenting thing on your own.”

  I smiled at the mention of Ian and instinctively checked my watch. Nope. Still no message from him. He’d sent me a quick one to let me know he’d arrived in Tokyo and that he’d call me later, but that was two days ago. “Thanks.” I avoided Katie’s gaze. I’d told her about Ian and me hooking up again, and she’d bombarded me with six hundred questions I had no answers to: “What does this mean? Are you together together? Are you moving out?” I’d said nothing had been decided, and that we’d talk when he was back in town this weekend.

  Still, every time she caught me checking my phone, I noticed the look of pity on her face.

  “You’re smart to keep things with Ian platonic,” Maria said. “He’s god-awful at intimacy.”

  I nodded slowly. How was the gorgeous head of our school fund-raiser so well-acquainted with Ian’s intimacy level?

  She rolled her big brown eyes. “We used to date. Ish. For exactly one minute. Full disclosure.”

  I probably looked like a frog catching flies. Thankfully, Katie—my muscle—was there to speak for me. She got up, stepped over to the desk, folded her toned arms, and said, “Well, now Ian and Erin are dating.” Katie narrowed her eyes at me in a question. “Ish?”

  “You’re actually together?” she asked.

  “It’s a work in progress,” I said, my finger itching to touch my watch again, just to see if maybe, maybe I’d missed the pulse from a new text. “We haven’t defined things yet.”

  Maria chuckled. “Don’t worry.” She leaned across the desk like we were coconspirators now, like we both had the exact same relationship-experience with Ian Donovan, like I wasn’t the one sitting here all pregnant with his child. “He’ll define things for you.”

  Her words landed like a thud in my bones. But I was the one who’d originally put the kibosh on the possibility of romance between us. I was the one who’d shot him down every time he wanted to get together. And, heck, I’d been the one to reinitiate physical contact at the Academy on Friday night.

  But now here I was checking my phone every five seconds, waiting for him to call.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Maria said. “I’m happy for you.” She widened her eyes, and I believed her. This wasn’t a malicious conversation. It was a sisterhood chat. “It’s just, I know what he was like during the time we were dating.”

  Katie cracked her knuckles. “You said you and Ian only dated for a second.” She gestured toward me. “Things are different between him and Erin. There’s a baby involved.”

  “I know,” Maria said. “And I’m sure he’s trying. He probably thinks he’s putting in a real effort. But Ian sucks at letting people in. It goes ‘job’”—she raised her hand above her head—“‘buddies’”—she lowered her hand a fraction of an inch—“and ‘everybody else’”—she bent over, dropping her hand to the floor.

  “Erin’s at buddy level.” Katie winked at me in support. “At least.”

  I shook my head. I didn’t need her defending me, not if she was going to start referring to me as Ian’s “buddy.” I felt like even less than that at this point. People texted their pals, at least. He’d gone radio silent on me.

  But it had only been three days. A long weekend, basically. He was probably working hard in Tokyo, and we’d talk all about it when he came back on Saturday. I would not start reading more into this that I needed to.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Maria said. “Things are totally different. You’re having a kid!” She shot me a gigantic, thousand-watt smile.

  “We are!” I raised my arms in feigned enthusiasm. We were having a kid, which meant it wasn’t just me Ian was ignoring right now. Before we hooked up on Friday night, Ian had texted me all the time. But now…nothing. It was hard not to draw the correlation. Especially since this situation couldn’t be more clichéd if it tried. I stood, signaling the end of the meeting. I had to go home and curl up in a ball for a while.

  “Thanks, Maria,” I said. “We’ll be in touch as the Gala gets closer.”

  After she left, Katie turned to me. “You about ready to get burgers?”

  “I’m ready to go,” I said. “But no food. I’ve lost my appetite.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ian

  I saw the light at the end of the tunnel.

  Fumetsu Enterprises was ready to sign with me on the dotted line, so all I had to do was bring them the contract to sign and talk logistics. I’d be back home to Erin in no time, as promised.

  For the first time in months, I could imagine taking a break, putting in shorter hours, traveling less. We still had a month before James would make his debut. Maybe Erin and I could babymoon up in Wisconsin for a weekend or something.

  But as soon as I saw Isamu, my friend and main contact at Fumetsu, waiting for me at the airport, I knew something was wrong.

  Shoulders hunched, I made my way over to him. “Uh-oh,” I said.

  He held out his hand and I shook it, before making a cursory bow. “There’s a problem,” he told me.

  “I’m a problem solver,” I said.

  “This problem flew in from Chicago six days ago.”

  “Who?” I asked. As far as I knew, Fumetsu was a well-kept secret. I’d been quietly courting them for months, waiting for the time they’d be ready to grow their business. I hadn’t told anyone about the company, and Scott and Tommy hadn’t, either.

  “West Town Ventures?” Fumetsu said.

  “Who the fuck?” I’d never heard of these people. They had to be new, out of their depths. I’d take care of them in short order.

  “Hotel first?” Fumetsu said.

  I desperately needed a shower, but it’d have to wait. “No time,” I said. “Take me to the office.”

  Isamu gave me the skinny on the ride over from the airport. Another VC group had flown in from the states a week ago. They were a little hungrier and frankly, a little younger than my company. They were prepared to offer things my DOC Group couldn’t handle.

  I stared out the window blankly, watching buildings fly by in a blur as I synthesized the information. I hadn’t come here prepared for a fight. I’d flown here with a golden novelty pen to sign some contracts. But I’d give Fumetsu whatever they wanted. I had invested too
much time, money, and sweat into this to relinquish the deal to some new company that had decided to swoop in out of nowhere. I would turn on the charm and prove to Fumetsu that their first decision had been the correct one. They should and would sign with me, as planned.

  Because I was Ian Fucking Donovan.

  When Isamu and I stepped off the elevator and into the warehouse office of Fumetsu Enterprises, a trio of millennials in business suits greeted us. A young woman with a silver asymmetrical bob walked over to me, hand extended. “Hi, Ian,” she said. “I’m glad we could finally meet. I’m Liz Barton.”

  “Oh…hey…” That rang a bell. I racked my brain. Liz…Barton…

  “Remember?” She fixed the cuff on her slate-gray power suit. “I went to Loyola Academy and wanted to talk shop with a fellow Rambler. You had your assistant blow me off the first time, and then you never returned my calls?” She smiled like the cat that had caught the canary. “I did some research to find out what you were working on, and my colleagues and I decided Fumetsu Enterprises was perfect for us.” She grinned at Isamu and his colleagues. “And it appears Fumetsu thinks we might be for them, too.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” I said.

  This Liz person pissed me the hell off, but game had to respect game. I’d done the same thing back when I was starting out. Tommy and I had found out about a solar energy start-up in Indiana, and we courted the shit out of them, pulling their business away from an older Chicago VC firm. It’d been our first major score.

  But the old dudes I’d beaten out were past their prime. I was still young and hungry. I’d show Liz and her pals what real skill looked like.

  Liz gestured toward her colleagues. “These are my partners, Luisa Roca and Ja Kimberly.”

  We shook hands, and honestly, maybe it was the jet lag, but I couldn’t tell if Ja—tall, bald, and muscular in a long black skirt kind of situation—was a man or a woman, and then I beat myself up for thinking in such old-person binary terms. Ja was Ja, and I, in my polo shirt and khakis, was a relic. I adapted quickly. “Nice to meet you,” I told them without missing a beat.

  We all stood in the middle of the office in a sort of lopsided oval—Liz’s people and the Fumetsu folks. No one moved. They were waiting for big, swinging dick, Ian Fucking Donovan, to show up and take the floor. Liz’s group had already shown their hand to Fumetsu, and it was my turn now.

  I straightened my shoulders, marched over to a desk, and set my briefcase on top. “This is cute,” I said, “and I’m glad you’ve all had a chance to talk and get to know each other, and that Liz, Ja, and Luisa had a chance to practice their pitch, but I’m here with the contracts.” I opened my bag and rummaged around for the papers Tommy had prepared for me. “DOC is prepared to offer you—”

  I paused as something fell out of my bag and Liz started laughing.

  “Wow, Ian,” she said. “Rumor had it you were into some kinky stuff, but this…?”

  Holding my breath, I looked to the floor. Lying there was a tube of nipple cream Tommy had given to me to celebrate my impending fatherhood (and because Susie had said it was a lifesaver). Written across the package in bright yellow letters were the words “BOOBIE BUTTER.”

  I snatched it off the floor and shoved it back into my bag.

  Ja leaned over and whispered something in Liz’s ear. Liz’s eyes bugged out. “Really?” She turned to the rest of us. “Ja says that their sister used Boobie Butter when she nursed Ja’s niece. Ian, do you have a kid?”

  “No,” I said.

  “No.” Liz folded her arms. “You don’t have a kid, but you’re carrying around balm for chapped nipples?”

  “Well.” The entire Fumetsu team watched me. I registered the disappointment on Isamu’s face. He’d brought me here on the promise that I was a single-minded business person, that nothing—nothing—would get in the way of my dedication to his company. “No, I don’t have a kid,” I said. “Well, not yet. I have one on the way.”

  Grinning, Liz turned to Isamu. “He’s on the daddy track. It was like I told you before he got here. The guys from DOC are past their prime. You need fresh, new blood to take you into the future. That’s what we’re prepared to offer you. We’re young, hungry, and ready to dedicate our lives to the success of your business.”

  Well, so was I. Always had been, always would be. I shoved the contracts back into my bag. Liz would not beat me at my own game. “First of all, let’s not underrate experience. You’d be taking a huge risk with Liz’s company. My partners and I have been doing this for almost two decades. We are the past, present, and future. Second of all, nothing matters more to me than my job.” A pang of guilt stabbed my gut, but I straightened my shoulders. I had been tasked with completing this deal for Tommy and Scott, and I would not let my best friends down. “Nothing. Isamu, you know that. You know me. If you sign with us and you need something, anything, I will drop whatever I’m doing in a heartbeat and be on the next plane to Tokyo.”

  Liz addressed Isamu directly. “We can station someone here permanently, or at least until we get things off the ground.”

  “We can do that, too,” I said. Fuck if I knew how we’d manage that, but we would. I would. Whatever it took to sign this deal, I’d agree to it. We’d work out the details later. “We’re prepared to give you whatever you need.”

  “Sure you are,” Liz said, sarcastically, “as long as it doesn’t interfere with nap time.”

  I spoke to the members of Fumetsu Enterprises. “I meant it when I said you’re my number one priority. It’s what I’ve told you all along, and it’s the truth. Yes, I’m having a child. That changes nothing. I’m still the same guy who’s shown you for months that I’m ready to turn your company into the powerhouse it deserves to be.”

  Isamu conferred with his partners. “We’re going to have to think on this. We’ll have our decision in the morning.”

  …

  Ian

  When I got back to the hotel, I texted Tommy right away. “Give me anything you have on Liz Barton’s VC group in Chicago. They’re here in Tokyo, trying to make a play for Fumetsu.”

  Shit. I hadn’t yet talked to Erin. I sent her a quick message that said, “I’m here. Talk later.” I couldn’t even fathom what time it was in Chicago right now. She could be at work or asleep. And, anyway, I needed to decompress. I pulled off the clothes I’d been wearing since the plane, showered, changed, and headed down to the hotel bar for a quick drink before bed. I’d give Erin a call when I got back to the room.

  The bar was nearly empty, save for Liz Barton sitting on a stool, staring at some baseball game on the screen in front of her. I could’ve just ignored her, booked it out of there; but, like it or not, she was my competition now. If we were going to operate in the same space in Chicago, it was important I keep her on my radar.

  “Still awake?” she asked as I slid onto the stool next to her.

  “For now,” I said.

  “No one would blame you if you bowed out.”

  “I’d blame me.” I held up my drink in salute. “So, Loyola, huh? Where’d you go to grade school?”

  “I.C.”

  I grinned. “City girl.”

  “Yeah, and you and your buddies are all trust-fund babies from Glenfield Academy.”

  “That’s not quite the truth,” I said, “but if it helps you sleep at night.” This woman could dish it out, and I respected her for it. It had to be the good old Jesuit education.

  “I’ve put everything I have into this business,” she said.

  I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t think I have? I’m forty. This has been my entire life since I graduated college.”

  “Mine, too.”

  “And you’re what?” I leaned back, assessing her. The dyed gray hair made her look older, honestly. Why was this a trend, and when would it die? “Thirty?” I would’ve guessed thirty-five, but I decided to age her down, just in case.

  “Twenty-seven.”

  I chuckled. “So, for
five whole years you’ve been busting the pavement and breaking down doors.” My phone buzzed, and I checked it. Tommy had returned my text. He said, “Liz’s portfolio is flimsy at best. They’re short on capital, too. Honestly, I think they’re bluffing about their ability to play ball here. Offer Isamu another two mil and see what happens.” I stared at my phone. Checkmate. Game over. She had no clue, but I was about to knock her out like Glass Joe in the first round of Mike Tyson’s Punch Out.

  A game she had probably never played because she hadn’t been born yet.

  I hesitated to land the final punch.

  Why? This was an easy one. I’d been courting Fumetsu for months. The reward for all my hard work sat right in front of me.

  But I’d just agreed to give Isamu everything he wanted. I’d promised one of us—Tommy, Scott, or I—would move to Tokyo to babysit the launch of the unbreakable cell phone. And, I had to be honest, the only one of us in any position at all to do that was me.

  “Who’s on the phone?” Liz asked. “Baby mama? You gotta go home and be a dad?” She made the universal sign for “whipped.”

  “Nah.” I stared at Tommy’s text. “My business partner.”

  “Is he doing the right thing and telling you to come home?” Liz downed her scotch. “You should listen to him. My partners and I have this deal by the balls. We can offer Fumetsu so much more than you can.”

  She was kind of right, wasn’t she? We had the money, but Liz, Ja, and Luisa had the drive.

  What was I fucking saying? I was going soft, that was what. The “Finish him” screen had come up on my Mortal Kombat game; all I had to do was deliver the final blow and be the Ian Fucking Donovan everyone expected to show up. Liz would have to learn the hard way—like I did—that this business wasn’t for the faint of heart, that no one would hold her hand and tell her it’d all be okay. “Oh, really?” I said. “You can offer Fumetsu more than us? Can you offer them two million dollars more?”

  “What?” Liz’s face had gone white.

  I showed her my phone. “Can you give them more money? Because I don’t think you can.”