Sunny cracked open the door. “Mr. Gage is here.”
What did Harden want now? And shouldn’t he be at one of his clubs? “Show him to the library. I’ll be there in a sec.” He scrolled through his phone until he found the correct number. “It’s Julius Morgan. I need another bodyguard for a special assignment. I need him or her to shadow Calista Coleman. There’s another bodyguard shadowing her. I don’t want either of them to know they’re being watched. All her movements are to be reported live. Standard contract. I’ll pay extra if she doesn’t discover the person.” He doubted whoever shadowed Calista and Scotts would do so for long without discovery.
“To what do I owe the displeasure?” Julius asked upon entering the library. Harden had made himself comfortable with a tumbler of bourbon and a first edition of To Kill a Mockingbird.
Carefully, he placed the book back on the shelf and reclaimed his seat. “I found Lynda.”
“She isn’t lost. We knew she was in Russia with Alezandar Karpovilov. At his dacha. A source leaked he travels intermittently to his mistress across the border in Finland.”
Harden downed his drink. “Poor bastard. So, fuel the jet and let’s surprise our enemies.”
Fuck. It was tempting. But no. “Can’t.” He poured himself a bourbon and sat opposite one of his best friends.
“What do you mean you can’t?” Harden’s features bent into a scorn.
“Prior commitments.”
“Like what?” Harden demanded, sitting forward in the chair. “What’s more important than the bitch that tried to kill us!”
“Me. She tried to kill me.” Harden needed the clarification, which he took exception.
“I was in the line of fire too, asshole.” He rolled his glass in his hand.
“A place you’re well accustomed.”
“That’s beside the point. And I take back my thank you for saving my life since it wasn’t my life on the line.”
“Whining?” Julius asked. Harden didn’t whine. His brother, Colin, had beat the annoying trait out of him. There was something else egging Harden on. He was off his game, askew from his norm, which wasn’t good. “Why the need to leave the country? Finished killing everyone on your list?”
“Never when the list keeps growing.” Harden smirked.
“Then why are you jonesing?” Julius glanced at Bruno. Normally, he wouldn’t, couldn’t order Harden’s lieutenant around, this time the former boxer took the hint and left the room. “What’s eating at you?”
“What are you going on about?” Harden got defensive and looked away. Not like him at all.
“Bullshit someone who doesn’t know you as well.”
Harden grunted and rolled the tumbler between his hands. “You tell me about your new priorities, and I’ll tell you why I want to go.”
It was an easy enough trade and he had no reason to be evasive, not with Harden. “Calista’s pregnant.”
That snapped Harden’s head up. He eyed Julius for a few moments, then nodded and raised his glass. “Better you than me.”
“No truer words have ever been spoken.” Julius raised his tumbler in mock salute.
“You happy about it?”
Light filled his heart. Hope flowed in his veins. “Yeah. I am. I’m going to be a father.”
“You’re somebody’s daddy. Fucking wow, man. The first of us to fall.” Harden scrubbed his hand through his scruff. “You and Calista, huh? You signing up for the picket fence and all that shit?”
Julius’ thought process hadn’t gotten that far yet. Marriage. The word didn’t scare him as much anymore.
“Fuck! You are thinking about it. Aw hell.” Harden hung his head. “First Nasir, and now you.”
“Nasir is heading for an arranged marriage. Not the same. Now your turn. What’s eating your ass?”
Harden shrugged. “Just ready for a road trip.” Julius waited him out. It’s what he had to do with Harden. With all of them. None of them easily shared, even with those they completely trusted. “I cleaned house because I thought I was targeted. You know, because I’m always a target. Head of the Irish mob. I killed a lot of people on an assumption. A wrong assumption.”
Everyone thought Harden was a cold-hearted bastard. They weren’t wrong, but they weren’t right either. He had a heart buried under his silk shirts and Brioni suits. He had a conscience under his blond crew cut. Both didn’t often rear their heads from under the cast iron armor Harden had them encased.
“Did they deserve killing?”
“Yeah.”
“Then move on.”
“You gonna tell your son that when he arrives?”
Julius thought of the little girl he imagined on the drive home, her features no longer obscure. Now, they decidedly favored Calista with full lips and wide eyes his color, skin tone tanner than his, but lighter than her mother’s, and knew his answer. “If the need arises.”
“Good.” Harden’s cold blue eyes lost a few more degrees. “Because if you don’t, Uncle Harden will.”
Chapter Eleven
T he deep rumble of a familiar masculine laugh had Calista lurching upright in confusion. Had she dreamed it? Nope, because there it was again, followed by Laverne’s annoying half snort, half squeal she called a laugh. Both were in her house having a grand old time.
What time is it? 10:00 a.m. She never slept that late before in her entire life. Sheets tangled around her hips, it nearly took an act of Congress to untangle herself and make it to the bathroom before she had an accident. Once her bladder was empty and her teeth were brushed—her hair was a rat’s nest and required more than a comb—she slipped on a robe over her boy shorts and tank top. She paused for a hard look at her flat stomach as if she had X-ray vision and could see through skin and muscle to her hitchhiker. A wave of panic threatened to swamp her. She couldn’t deal with it, not yet.
She found them in the kitchen. Laverne at the stove flipping pancakes on one burner, a skillet of cheesy scrambled eggs on the back burner, and bacon sizzling in the cast iron skillet on another burner. Along with coffee, the combined aromas had Calista’s stomach rumbling.
But that’s not what pulled her up short. Allie—in Julius’ arms—completely enthralled with him. Her little hands were all over his face, tugging and poking. Julius winced when her chubby fingers grasped his eyebrow and yanked. When he complained with a gruff “Ouch,” she nearly tipped over giggling hysterically.
“Finally awake, huh. About time, though we didn’t miss you. Julius kept Allie quite entertained. Pull up a chair.” Laverne commanded in her usual bossy fashion. Without asking, Laverne plopped a plate stacked with two blueberry pancakes, scrambled eggs, and a handful of bacon in front of Calista. “All your favorites. Go on and dig in.”
Calista studied the plate of food. Yeah. It was everything she loved for breakfast and rarely had the time for regardless of the caloric intake. Add the heavenly aroma of fried bacon and blueberries, she braced for her stomach to boycott. Instead, her mouth watered.
Laverne deposited a plate of food in front of Julius. A four-pancake stack, two sunny side eggs, and what seemed like half a package of bacon. “Thank you, Mrs. Playne.”
“It’s Laverne, and you’re welcome.” She patted his shoulder and headed for the refrigerator.
“Are you okay?” he murmured.
Calista could be childish and pretend she had no idea what he hinted at. Pretend she didn’t have a passenger on board, which would achieve nothing. “I’m good,” she whispered.
The medication continued to work. Miracle of miracles. He smiled, relief easing the tension from his shoulders. Her heart gave an annoying flutter, not on board with her directive that Julius Morgan was persona non grata.
Her stomach rumbled, eager for her to get started. She picked up her fork and dug in. Lord, it was heaven on her tongue.
“Is something wrong with you?” Laverne eyed her on the way back to the stove after dropping Allie into a portable playpen in the corner of the room.
“Nope.” Calista tossed out hoping Laverne wouldn’t smell blood in the water and attack. Her cousin should’ve been a detective instead of a housewife.
“Good.” Laverne brought over two mugs of black coffee, one for each of them.
One whiff and Calista choked on a gag. The fork slipped from her fingers and clattered against the plate. She slapped her hand over her nose and mouth and shoved away from the table.
Julius jumped up. “What?”
All she could do was point at the mugs. Julius snatched them up and dumped the contents in the sink. He opened a window, but it wasn’t enough. Calista bolted for the door to the backyard. Bent over, hands on her knees, she gulped in a few deep breaths of NYC smog until her stomach quieted.
Note to self: NO COFFEE!
Julius stood next to her, his hand on her back, soothing her. She straightened and leaned against him. She needed the comfort of his steady heartbeat under her cheek and his arms around her. She needed him—just for this moment.
“Better?” The word rumbled from his chest.
“Yeah.” Reluctantly, she pulled away to meet his brown eyes. “Thanks.”
He cupped her face. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need. Anytime. Any place.”
She had no answer for that. None. His hand dropped from her cheek. She stepped away and headed back inside. Laverne glanced up from loading the dishwasher. “I see your stomach is still upset, huh?”
“Yeah. Still fighting that stomach bug,” Calista lied. “I’m gonna try and eat some more.” Now that the coffee was gone, her hunger returned. She sat and dug back into the lukewarm plate of food. It was still delicious. In the peripheral of her eye, she noticed Laverne drying her hands on the green checkered dish towel bought to match the linoleum of the same color. She lost interest when her cousin turned away. The crunch of a crisp piece of bacon coated in maple syrup snagged her attention.
“Well,” Laverne said, “maybe if you take your anti-morning sickness meds, it will help.” She plopped the bottle of pills delivered yesterday by courier onto the coaster where the coffee had rested, then placed her hands on her hips. Her glare landed squarely on Calista.
Caught in the lie, Calista blurted, “I found out yesterday.”
“Really.” Laverne’s head cocked to the side and she folded her arms under her breasts. “I knew last week and waited for you to catch up and pull your head out of the sand.”
“Last week!” What the— “Well why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
“I asked you if you thought you were pregnant and you hemmed and hawed and told me some bullshit about your period.” Laverne’s head bobbed and weaved like a fighter in the ring. Her attention swung to Julius. “I take it you’re the daddy and that’s why you’re here sniffing around her?”
Julius had the good sense to say two words. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You plan on kissing any other women?” He’d have to be deaf to miss the obvious threat stitched into each word.
“Now wait a minute,” he started, and Calista had to give the man credit. He realized he was in a no-win situation and reeled whatever he planned on saying back between his perfect teeth. “No, ma’am. I have no plans to kiss anyone other than Calista.”
Calista held back a snort and rolled her eyes. His lips and the rest of him weren’t getting anywhere near her.
Julius’ chair scraped against the cheap linoleum as he rose. “I’ll see myself out and let you ladies talk.”
She couldn’t call the man stupid. He picked the right time to bail and seek higher ground. Laverne had enough self-control to wait until the door closed behind Julius to explode. “I gave you the condom speech years ago. Didn’t think you needed a refresher! I swear you and Jentry are gonna give me a heart attack. Jane is the only one with any common sense out of the five of you.”
Being compared to Laverne’s daughters, all younger than her, really burned. Especially when Jentry specialized in fucking up on a regular basis. No one could compete with perfect Miss Summa Cum Laude Jane. In a lot of ways, Jane reminded Calista of Erica. They were close to the same age. Jane at twenty-two and Erica at twenty-four. Both know-it-alls.
Thinking about her half sister… “Erica showed up at the hospital like we’re besties!”
Laverne’s head cranked to the side. “What the what? Oh no she didn’.”
“Ex-fucking-actly! Suddenly, she’s all friendly, pulling the ‘we’s family’ card.”
“Humph!” Laverne pursed her lips and rolled her head. “She’s pulling that nice-nasty.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?”
“Nice-nasty. Aunt Mavis never told you about that?”
Calista shook her head. “Nope.”
“Nice-nasty is when a person is all sweet as could be to your face and nasty behind your back. You never see the betrayal coming.”
“That’s precisely what Erica is pulling.”
Laverne wagged a finger in Calista’s face, her head weaving back and forth as she spoke. “Girl, don’t be fooled. First chance she gets, she’ll stab you in the back. But, enough about that heifer. Back to you, Miss Poster Child for ‘I’m not screwing my boss.’”
Thank you for sticking the knife in and twisting. Unfortunately, Laverne wasn’t wrong. No fraternization was the rule until Julius’ bloody body had crashed into her life. Now, she was pregnant and single and terrified. “What if I can’t do this?” Calista said. “Me, someone’s mother. That’s insane. I’ve killed people. There’s blood on my hands.”
“Which has never stopped you from holding Allie.”
“It should have! You should have stopped me.”
“There is no one Allie could be safer with. I feel that way and so does her mother.”
Calista shook her head, her hair violently swinging back and forth. “I hold Allie once in a while. My child will be with me twenty-four hours a day. I can’t be trusted with an infant. No. I can’t do this.”
“Okay. You’re right. You can’t do it.”
Calista’s head whipped around as if slapped. Furious, she faced her cousin who shrugged and held up her hands in surrender.
“I agree with you. You are the wrong person to have a child.”
Instead of relief, Calista swept her arm across the table, sending the salt and pepper shakers and napkin holder clanking to the floor. A full minute ticked by before she said, “Do you really feel that way?” Her voice sounded small and wounded.
Laverne rubbed Calista’s back. “Of course not, but that’s what you wanted me to say.”
“You bitch,” Calista said with sincere conviction. Then quickly caved in on herself as fat tears rolled down her face. Damn it. She couldn’t stop fucking crying! A pair of arms circled her shoulders and pulled her into an ample bosom which made her bawl. “I’m afraid, Laverne.” She hiccupped.
“Of what, sweetheart? A little tiny baby when you’re the baddest bitch in town.”
A brittle laugh escaped Calista. “I’m terrified I’ll end up like my mother.” Alone with a child by a man who didn’t love her and wouldn’t be there for her child. “You got to admit the similarities are glaring.” She sobbed.
“So what! What if you did end up like Aunt Mavis? Not that I think you would, but what if you ended up a single parent with a wonderful child who you adore and who adores you? I think that’s a win-win situation.”
Calista dragged her sleeve across her face. “You don’t understand. From the moment I understood why my father was gone and why my mother cried herself to sleep for a year, I swore I would never, ever, end up like her. I mean it, Laverne. I won’t. I can’t.”
Laverne stroked Calista’s back, the motion soothing, easing her from the edge. “What do you want to do, Calista? Whatever it is, whatever your decision, you have my support and my presence.”
Calista stared at her cousin and her best friend. The mother of four, the grandmother of one. “Do you mean that?”
Laverne nodded and took Cali
sta’s hand. “I wouldn’t’ve said it if I didn’t mean it. It’s your decision and I’ll stand beside you no matter what it is.”
Calista threw her arms around Laverne. “Thank you! I knew I could count on you.”
“Hell or high water, I’m here for you. You have to decide what you want and what you’re gonna do. What are you going to do, Calista?”
For the first time in her life, Calista hadn’t a clue.
Chapter Twelve
One Week Later
W ho knew Calista would show exceptional skill at avoidance? She certainly didn’t. She started the week with a hair appointment. The next day she met with an architect to go over some much-needed improvements to the house. A complete gutting and upgrade. The house would move from the 1940’s floor plan to a modern open concept. He needed a month to plan. Two months for the permits, and three months for the construction. Six months barring bad weather and any other unforeseen circumstances. Wednesday, she had lunch with Laverne, her cousin insisted. It was the one day she didn’t have to babysit, and she wanted out of the house. Calista took her cousin to lunch and then took her to the dealership to pick out her new car. She put it on her new platinum card that had arrived by courier.
Thursday, she went for a run and to the gym. She hit the speed bag and the free weights. Nothing too strenuous because… Well, just because. Ravenous, she stopped for Chinese takeout and swore she glimpsed Scotts across the street, jogging by. Friday, she stayed home and alternated between the bed, the couch, and the refrigerator. Nauseous again, and this time she couldn’t blame it on coffee. Every day nausea made an appearance to varying degrees even with the medication. Nothing seemed to alleviate it. A not so subtle reminder of her hitchhiker.
She studied her body in the full-length mirror in her bedroom. Her stomach was still flat with the exception of that little lower jiggle that refused to budge because she refused to give up pancakes and fried foods. Her clothes still fit, her skinny jeans still slid over her ass, zipped and buttoned without complaint. Her nipples were sensitive. She was aware of them, especially when they rubbed the inside of her bra. She felt different. Off, somehow. To the left of center. Her internal compass askew. It would be maddening if she didn’t know the reason.
Plain and the Billionaire's Seduction (Plain Jane Series Book 3) Page 9
