Scandalous Box Set

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Scandalous Box Set Page 87

by Layla Valentine


  Luckily, I was usually in such an exhausted state that I’d be out before things got too intense. But that night was different. As I lay in bed, Adam at my side, my mind wouldn’t stop racing.

  The difference, this time, was that I wasn’t thinking stressful thoughts. No, for the first time in a long while, all I could think about were the positive things in my life. The father of my children was back in my life, and I felt as though a part of me that I’d previously ripped out, the hole ragged and raw, had been returned to its proper place.

  I thought about the future, what it might hold. After we returned from Rio, I’d be back in San Francisco, away from the LA apartment I’d thought I was going to make my home. I realized that I’d never even seen Adam’s place before. It was likely huge, of course, but it was probably one of those bachelor pads, all angles and coldness, that needed a woman’s touch. As much as I didn’t want to take time off from work, I decided that making the place homey and inviting for the girls would be a great way to spend my maternity time off.

  And then what? We’d be living together, raising the babies. There was still the matter of the board’s reaction to us being together, and the real chance that Adam would lose his job. But hadn’t he made his fortune striking out on his own? He had that drive, that ambition that made me realize he’d land on his feet no matter what. I was excited to be there at his side supporting him all the way.

  I’d been thrilled about the girls, but I’d also been worried as hell. Thinking about it with nothing but positive feelings was something I was going to have to accustom myself to.

  Adam was there. He was there with me and ready to be a father. And not just ready but thrilled about the idea. I’d spent the plane ride down to Rio terrified that he’d send me packing. But it had all gone better than I could’ve hoped. It was all…so freaking perfect.

  The restlessness was a touch rougher that night, a strange feeling coming over me as I made my way to the kitchenette for a glass of water. I was ready to chalk it up to my nerves still being jangled from the trip and everything after. I’d had one of the most stressful, exhilarating days of my life—of course I was going to feel a little out of sorts once it was all over.

  But as I stood there, glass of water in hand, I felt…weird. Not simply post-flight weird, or the type of weird you feel after the kind of emotionally exhausting night I’d had, but like there was something really amiss with me.

  I sipped the water, and right at the moment I was about to swallow, a tight, sharp pain rushed through my belly. I jerked forward where I stood, the glass slipping out of my hands and landing on the floor with a crash.

  “Shit!” I said.

  Before I could say or do anything else, I felt the trickle of something wet down my leg. At first I assumed it was the water that I’d spilled, but then I realized there was far too much of it for that.

  Another pain hit me, this one severe enough to cause a yelp of pain to shoot out of my mouth as I grabbed onto the kitchen counter.

  “Ahh!” I cried out as I held on.

  At the peak of the pain, Adam appeared in the doorway to the bedroom, nothing but a pair of boxer briefs on. I couldn’t even appreciate the view, my stomach hurt so badly.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Careful,” I said, gesturing to the floor. “Glass broke—”

  I stopped talking as the pain reached its crescendo.

  As it faded, Adam swept me up in his arms and away from the broken glass, and it hit me what was likely going on.

  It was happening.

  “When did you say you were due?” asked Adam, apparently of the same mind as me.

  “Two…two weeks,” I said faintly.

  “Not looking like that to me,” he said. “These girls look like they’re ready to come now.”

  Panic took hold of me, and I thanked God that Adam was there at my side.

  “Okay,” he said. “I want you to sit down and focus on your breathing. I’m going to grab you something to wear and throw some clothes on. And then we’re going to go to the hospital. Okay?”

  I stared forward in a daze, not saying anything.

  “I need you to say ‘okay,’ Isla.”

  “Oh…okay.”

  He nodded and was off. Moments later he was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, carrying in his hands some similar clothes for me. I barely had the mental presence to get dressed, but Adam was there to help me along.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said, his calm voice a total contrast to the panic I felt. “You’re not going to think about anything other than taking one step and then another. I’m going to do all the thinking for us. I’m here for you, and everything’s going to be fine. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  I was still anxious, but Adam’s even tone put me more at ease than I otherwise would’ve been.

  “Now, let’s get downstairs and grab a taxi. I don’t know the area all that well, but I know there’s a really big hospital near here. I’m sure they’ll be able to take good care of you.”

  “Okay.”

  And with that, we were off. Once down in the lobby, Adam quickly let the front desk know that we needed a cab, the staff taking one look at me and realizing how serious the situation was. Thankfully, we only had to wait a couple of minutes before the cab showed up outside.

  “Hospital!” said Adam in English.

  The driver got it and was off. Another contraction hit me as we drove.

  “I’m not going to have them in the back of this taxi, am I?” I asked. “Please tell me I’m not.”

  “Ah, cuántos minutos?” said Adam.

  I knew that was Spanish and wasn’t sure if the Portuguese-speaking driver would understand. Thankfully, he did.

  “Umm,” said the driver. “Five minutes, sir.”

  “Five,” said Adam, relief in his voice. “Can you handle five?”

  “I…I think so.”

  The taxi drove fast, whipping through the sparse early-morning traffic. It wasn’t long before I could see the hospital off in the distance, the large, low-rise building aglow with lights. There wasn’t a sweeter sight I could imagine.

  Well, maybe Adam next to me, my hand in his—that wasn’t bad either. I was so happy he was there, so relieved that I finally had someone to go through this with. But I could only feel warm and fuzzy for a moment before yet another wave of pain hit me.

  “Now,” said Adam as we approached the hospital. “I don’t know much about giving birth, but I know that the closer together the contractions are, the closer you’re getting. Can you hold out a little bit longer?”

  “Not like I have a choice,” I said, trying to maintain a sense of humor.

  “There you go,” he said with a smile.

  Before too long we were in front of the hospital ER, the driver opening the door and helping me out as Adam shoved a large handful of bills in his direction. The driver barely had a chance to say thank you before the staff noticed us. They hurried over and wasted no time getting me into a wheelchair and on my way.

  The lights of the ER were bright and disorienting, and another wave of pain ran through me as I was wheeled through. Adam still held my hand, still stayed at my side.

  “English?” asked Adam to the team of doctors. “Anyone speak English?”

  “Yes, sir,” said one of them. “And the doctor you will see can speak it too.”

  It was a major relief. Knowing that I was in good hands with people I could actually talk to made me instantly feel better about what was happening.

  Soon I was brought into a smaller room, changed out into a medical gown, and helped up onto a delivery table.

  “I’m still here,” said Adam, squeezing my hand. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  I couldn’t put into words how good it made me feel to hear him say that.

  Seconds later a white-coat-clad doctor, a short bald man with thick glasses, stepped into the room.

  “Good morning,” he said to Adam
and me in perfect English. “I’m Dr. Sousa. I’ll be delivering your baby.”

  “Babies,” said Adam. “We’re expecting twins.”

  The doctor raised his dark, bushy eyebrows in mild surprise before glancing at my enormous belly.

  “Ah,” he said with a smile. “Even better!”

  He clearly had a positive attitude, which made me feel a touch better.

  “Doctor,” I said. “I’m…I’m supposed to have them two weeks from now. Is…that bad?”

  Fear took hold in anticipation of his answer, fear that vanished the moment he shook his head in the negative.

  “Not at all,” he said. “Two weeks early is very common. Just means you’ve got a couple of kids ready to get out and see Mom and Dad.”

  “There you go,” said Adam, giving my hand another squeeze. “Nothing to worry about—don’t stress yourself out about a thing.”

  As soon as he finished, another contraction blasted through me.

  “Okay!” said Dr. Sousa. “How far apart are the contractions?”

  “They’re close,” I said. “Less than a minute, I think.”

  “Excellent,” he said. “We’ll examine you to make sure, but it looks like these kids are ready to march.”

  As nurses crowded around me, hooking me up to various monitors, Adam rushed to my side and planted a soft kiss on my already sweaty forehead.

  “I love you, Isla,” he said. “So damn much.”

  “I love you too,” I said.

  “Okay, mom-to-be,” said Dr. Sousa. “We’ve got a baby looking like she wants to come out. You ready for this?”

  “More than anything.”

  He smiled.

  “I like that attitude. Now, it’s time to start pushing.”

  The next few minutes were a blur—I had no idea how long I was pushing for, but Dr. Sousa was a kindly, gentle presence throughout. The pain intensified to a point beyond anything I’d ever experienced, but then it faded and was replaced with relief—and the crying of a baby.

  “We have menina number one!” Dr. Sousa said.

  One of the nurses gently picked up the baby, blocking her from view. As she and another nurse cleaned her up at the nearby station, I tried to stay calm, my eyes on the doctor.

  “One baby out means we’re halfway home,” he said. “You ready for a little more pushing?”

  “Yes,” I said. “So ready.”

  The process repeated again, faster this time, and after more pain and pushing that I ever would have thought I’d have been able to handle, I was rewarded with more crying, and the nurses swept baby number two away to be cleaned up and weighed.

  “When can we see them, doctor?” Adam asked, clearly just as keen to have the babies back as I was.

  “Ah, right about now, I would say,” Dr. Sousa said with a smile.

  At his words, two of the nurses returned to my bedside, each with a tiny bundle in their arms.

  Two gorgeous baby girls, looking perfect and adorable. And they were calm, calm like sleeping little angels.

  “And they’re healthy?” I asked.

  “As healthy as they come,” Dr. Sousa said.

  “Thank you so much,” Adam said. “So, so much.”

  “All in a day’s work,” he said humbly. “On that note, I’ll let you four get acquainted.”

  One more smile and he was out into the hallway. The moment he was gone, the nurses at last handed me my babies.

  I couldn’t believe it. I simply couldn’t believe it. After all of these months, after all of the stress, the pain, the fear, and everything else, I finally had my girls in my arms.

  And they were more gorgeous than I ever could’ve imagined. One had hair with a tint of red like mine, the other with her father’s dark hair. Both gazed up at me, taking in the sight of me just as I was them.

  It was possibly the most perfect, wonderful moment of my life.

  “Oh, my God,” Adam breathed. “They’re…they’re…”

  Cool, unflappable Adam was long gone at the first sight of the little ladies. He looked almost boyishly excited.

  “They’re incredible,” he said. “The most perfect things I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  As he spoke, the baby with his dark hair reached up to him. The biggest, happiest smile I’d ever seen appeared on his face.

  “You mind?” he asked softly.

  “Of course I don’t mind,” I said.

  Carefully, he scooped up one of the girls and held her close.

  Okay—maybe I was wrong. The sight of the two girls had been the most perfect image that I’d ever seen, up until I saw Adam holding his daughter.

  He was a natural, the baby snuggled up to him close and tucking her head into his chest. She had to have known, just like I did, that in his arms was a great place to be.

  “Any ideas for names?” he asked. “We can’t just call them ‘Baby One’ and ‘Baby Two’ forever.”

  “Hmm,” I said. “How about…Emma? Anna? Sophia?”

  He appeared to consider them.

  “Those are nice names, don’t get me wrong,” he said. “But I think they need something a bit more special…more unique. These are very unique girls, after all.”

  “Good point,” I said. “We’ve got a long flight home. We can table the matter until then.”

  “I like that idea,” he said.

  A thoughtful expression formed on his face.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Just thinking about that word,” he said. “‘Home.’ Home could be right here, really. Home is wherever I’m with you and the girls.”

  Tears formed in my eyes.

  Everything was how it should be.

  Everything was perfect.

  Chapter 30

  Adam

  A month later

  I stood in front of Corliss headquarters, knowing it was likely the last time I would ever see the place.

  But I was ready. Over the last month in Rio, I’d taken care of matters, dividing my time between the factory and Isla and the girls. All the while I’d known in the back of my mind what was coming, however.

  After all, I was a father, and the mother of my children was an employee. Maybe if we’d had nothing more than a dalliance, the two of us could’ve swept it under the rug. Two little girls, however—there was no hiding that.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I took it out to find a text from Sandy.

  “They’re ready for you.”

  Time to go to my execution. But I was prepared. Hell, I was even eager.

  I typed up a quick text to Isla before slipping my phone back into my pocket, taking a deep breath, and heading inside.

  A wry smile formed on my lips as I passed the portraits in the lobby, my eyes lingering on the one of me. I wondered how long they’d leave it there. Would it be down before the end of the day, maybe tossed into one of the dumpsters in back along with the rest of the garbage?

  Maybe I could sneak it out, I thought. Might look nice in the new house.

  I allowed myself a laugh at the idea of coming home jobless, a giant portrait of myself barely tucked under my arm. Isla would have to see the humor in something like that.

  I stopped in my office, taking in the sights for the last time. I was going to miss it. Really, it was a hell of an office. But as I took a look around, I realized how sterile and empty it was. Then I realized why—not a single picture of the girls.

  The board was waiting for me, so I didn’t linger long. I left, and after a short walk that seemed to take forever, I was at the doors of the board room.

  There, I paused. Not because I was nervous, but because the gravity of what I was about to do was sinking in. I was going to get fired. No two ways about it. And more than that, I was going to change the course of Corliss Enterprises forever.

  No small thing. But I was ready.

  “Come in, Adam,” spoke Edward after I rapped on the door.

  His voice was as even and calm as ever, but I could sense deep
down that there was something more to it. And if that was how he felt, he was right.

  I opened the doors and strode into the place like I owned it. The entire board was there, Edward at the head of the table as usual. Bernard was there, and it was easy to tell by the expression on his face that he was very eager to hear about what had gone down in Rio.

  Boy, was he in for a surprise. Thinking about how he wanted to shutter the plant and put thousands of people out of a job for a quick buck, I couldn’t help but grin at the news I was about to drop on him.

  I stepped into the room, every pair of eyes there burning a hole in me. My phone buzzed again in my pocket. I quickly took it out and saw a text from Isla.

  “Here.”

  “Now,” I typed back.

  “Something more important to attend to?” asked Edward.

  He was right, but I wasn’t ready to drop that piece of news just yet.

  I smiled, letting them all know I was ready to begin.

  “I’m ready,” I said.

  “Well, Adam,” said Edward. “We’re all surprised to see you back from Rio so soon. We were anticipating you taking at least six weeks with that particular project.”

  “Not necessary,” I said. “Once I realized what needed to be done, it was simply a matter of doing it. And I’m very pleased with the results.”

  “Waste of time if you ask me,” said Bernard Pyke, disdain in his voice. “Sending the CEO on a vacation to give pep talks or something. At your salary you should be living in this office.”

  “Not going to happen,” I said.

  I knew that Isla would be arriving at any moment. That soft knock at the door would be my cue that it was all about to go down.

  “As you all know, I’ve been feverishly at work making changes at the Rio plant. When I first arrived the situation was dire. Production was down, morale was low, and the plant was being run more like a sweatshop than a place we could be proud of.”

 

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