THE BILLIONAIRE'S BABY (A Secret Baby Romance) (42 page)

As the day went on, my stomach churned at the mere sight of food. The soup Ella made me caused vomiting for another fifteen minutes until I rested my head on the toilet seat and went to sleep on the cold, hard floor of the bathroom.

I woke up in the middle of the night. The bathroom was dark and cold, but a blanket was wrapped around me. I was confused for a moment; as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I slowly remembered throwing up all day. Ella must have thrown the blanket on me and possibly left me in peace in the bathroom.

I rose slowly from the floor and exited the bathroom, the place that had felt like my prison for the last few hours. The apartment was quiet, and the street outside wasn’t buzzing with traffic either. I looked at the clock: it was two in the morning.

In my room, on my bedside, Ella had placed a handful of pills and a glass of orange juice. I was parched and dehydrated and took a sip of the juice with my fingers crossed. My stomach didn’t instantly rumble as I swallowed it, and I quietly thanked my stars, finishing the entire glass in two gulps. I grabbed my coat and car keys and, trying to make as little noise as possible, left the apartment for a 24-hour pharmacy. I took a few deep breaths as I started my car, trying my very best to banish any unwanted thoughts along with the residual nausea. I soon got to the pharmacy, and the bored-looking clerk gave me a nod as I entered the shop. I had shopped here late at night a hundred times, on those nights—especially in the latter stages of her illness—when Mom would wake up at an odd hour with her cravings. I was, therefore, certain I would find what I was looking for—third row from the left aisle, next to the shelf of baby and adult diapers.

As I turned the corner absentmindedly, I crashed headfirst into the man standing in my path with his back to me.

“Sorry,” I mumbled as I rubbed my head, which had smacked into a large box of Quality Street candy on the shelf.

“Tia!” the man exclaimed, a grin on his face which emphasized his chin and put a dimple in his right cheek.

“Oh, Will, hey!” I said, flustered yet brightening. He hugged me, and for the first time in the entire day, I actually broke into a smile.

“What are you doing here at this hour?” he asked, concerned.

“Oh, nothing. We were out of milk so I thought I would pick up some,” I lied easily.

“Oh, well, it’s over there in the refrigerators.” He pointed to the opposite side of the store.

“Um, yeah.” I had a hard time coming up with something to say. “So, how are you?”

“Good, I’m good.” He wore his perpetual smile. However, as he got a closer look at me, his expression changed to worry. “You look really pale. Are you okay?”

I was breaking into a sweat. “I think I’m coming down with the flu,” I told him.

“Oh, no.” He looked even more alarmed. “If you’re here on your own, do you want me to take you home? You look like you should be in bed right now, not out shopping for milk,” he said.

“I’m fine, Will; don’t worry.” I tried to smile. “Honestly, I’ll be back home in a few minutes.”

“Uh, okay,” he consented, not entirely satisfied with my response but complying to my obvious reluctance to talk about my wellbeing. “So, I hope everything has been all right with you.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m making my way back to life,” I said, frowning at the response I offered.

“If there is anything I can do to help, you’ll let me know, right?” he said.

“Actually,” I said as a thought flashed through my mind, “there is something you could help me with.”

“Great, what is it?” He beamed.

“I’m looking for a job,” I said with some hesitation. “Anything for now, and I was wondering if there was an opening at the café?”

His smile widened. Encouraging. “Actually,” he said, “Diaz just quit—the grumpy waitress, you know? Dad only just told me today to find someone new. Your timing couldn’t be better.”

“That’s great!” I nearly shrieked, hugging him again. “I’ll look in tomorrow, then?”

“Sure,” he said, pleased. He gave off good, happy vibes all the time, which I really liked.

“I need to get home, then,” I said, looking at my phone to check the time. “Thank you so much.”

“Pleasure is all mine. See ya tomorrow,” he said, making his way to the counter with the box of Quality Street, which was the reason I had a small lump growing on my forehead. I pretended to pull a carton of milk from the closest refrigerator and put it in a cart.

As soon as Will disappeared through the doors and into the night, I dumped the cart and the milk where I stood and almost ran to the end of the third row on the left aisle.

I picked up a rectangular blue box, a Clear Blue Pregnancy Test, from the shelf in front of me without looking around.

Half an hour later, I was perched on my bathroom floor just as I had been for most of the day. My head rested in both of my hands. In front of me on the toilet seat, the blue and white stick read
pregnant
. I was fucked! Surprisingly, the shock that had filled me ended quickly. I couldn’t change it, so no point crying over it. I should have thought about it before I had unprotected sex with a billionaire in his personal soccer stadium. I was very much responsible for what had happened, and I wasn’t going to beat myself up about it now.

Tia

A few days later, I met with Will’s dad at the Moonlight Café the next day and took the waitressing job. Derrick was extremely nice to me and offered to pay me more than what he usually paid waitresses if I was having a hard time with my finances. I thanked him profusely. I needed the extra money now more than ever. Luckily, I liked the café. I had always liked it. The atmosphere was bright, warm, and cheerful, and it smelled like all of my favorite foods. This was my ultimate go-to place to ward off unnecessary thoughts; there could not be a more suitable place to work. I was assigned to Gem, the waitress in charge of teaching me the basics. Gem was an eighteen-year-old with a huge—
huge
—pair of breasts. Her blonde hair was cut frightfully short, and she wore a nose ring and lots of kohl and black eye shadow. Gem perpetually had gum in her mouth and a hands-free device in her ear. How she managed to be such a good waitress while loud indie music blasted continually in her ear, I did not know and was too afraid to ask. She rarely spoke to anyone; however, once you got past the hardened exterior, she was actually quite pleasant, and surprisingly, we soon became good friends.

Soon I settled into a routine at the café and made friends with everyone else, including Will. Gem was quick to let me know that when she had first started working there, she’d had a huge crush on him, but once they had slept together, she realized it was nothing more than a one-night stand. She seemed not to care and I had dismissed her story and thought nothing of it until I noticed Will paying a little more attention to me than before and coming to the restaurant during my shifts more often.

“Hey, Tia! What’s going on?” Will smiled at me when I walked in one day.

“Just coming in to work, like every other day,” I laughed. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on everything for Dad,” Will said. “You look nice today.”

“Um, thanks,” I had replied, grabbing a writing pad to take orders on.

“So what are you doing this weekend?” he asked in a casual tone.

“Ella and I have plans,” I lied easily. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but I obviously couldn’t date anymore. I was pregnant with another man’s baby.

“Sure, let me know when you’re free so we can hang out.”

“That’ll be nice,” I said, with no intentions of ever making myself available. I went on with my daily routine until that evening when my entire world—a world I had taken for granted—came to a standstill while I was getting latte for a customer. The door opened, and Alisha Banks stepped in, followed closely by Neal. I froze; the cup of coffee trembled in my hand, almost as if stirred to motion by the gust of evening wind that blew in as the door closed behind them.

She wore leather pants with a white silk shirt and really high heels, looking as if she had just stepped out of a soap opera. He was dressed in jeans and a casual shirt and looked so handsome that the mere sight of him caused my heart to beat so hard, it felt like it might burst out of my ribcage. His hand was on the small of her back, I noticed, as the cup of coffee in my hand trembled even harder and scalding latte splashed onto the saucer.

Before I could turn and make my escape into the kitchen, Neal looked straight at me and froze. Alisha followed his gaze, and her face contorted into a sneer.

I turned and ran into the kitchen as fast as I could without tripping and breaking my neck on the tiled floor. Gem had seen the exchange from the counter and darted in behind me. I stood holding the door to the large freezer, breathing deeply, my eyes watering in spite of myself.

“What’s happening?” she demanded, concern in her eyes. Even though we had only recently met, she was already turning out to be a true friend.

“That guy who just came in with his fiancé,” I blurted, “we went out.”

Gem’s eyes narrowed. “And?”

I don’t know what came over me; I hadn’t even told Ella yet. “I’m pregnant with his baby, and he doesn’t know,” I burst out in one breath.

Gem’s shocked expression only lasted for a split second, like she was used to hearing about her co-workers being pregnant with strange men’s babies. “But he’s the billionaire Callaway guy, isn’t he?” she asked casually.

“Yes,” I replied, my breath hitching. Everyone knew Neal.

“Hmm. I had suspected with you always running to the bathroom.” Gem pursed her lips. “You’re doing good, though.”

“And you said nothing?” I asked.

“No, it’s not my business and you know I make it a point to mind my business,” she began again after a few seconds of reflection. “I don’t want to give unsolicited advice, but I would tell him if I were you.”

“I can’t,” I said. “At least not yet. I just wasn’t expecting him to come into our café.”

“It’s a free world. He can go into any café he wants,” she said.

“I guess so. But why here?” I asked, looking around like he was going to show up behind me any minute.

“Maybe he’s looking for you?”

“I doubt that. Besides, I don’t want to see him right now,” I said.

“Are you ashamed of him seeing you as a waitress?”

I shook my head, but I wasn’t certain.
Was I ashamed?

“You have no reason to be ashamed of working hard,” Gem said in a matter-of-fact voice. “If you want to stay in here and get yourself together, I’ll serve them.”

I took another deep breath, making my best effort to pull myself together. “No,” I said finally, standing up straighter. “I’ll take care of it. He’s on my table and I’ll serve the table regardless of who’s sitting there.”

“Good,” Gem said, followed by a close-mouthed smile. This was the first time I had actually seen her smile. “But you'd better start thinking about how you’ll tell him you’re pregnant. Good luck with that.”

I emerged from the kitchen and saw Neal seated alone at a table by the window, the same table Ella and I had sat at months ago, talking about dating. I walked up to him. Although the restaurant was crowded, the only two sounds I seemed to be able to hear as I walked up to his table was the beating of my heart and the clicking of my heels on the floor.

“Good evening, sir,” I began softly, taking out my notepad and looking down at it, “what can I get you this evening?”

After a moment that lasted an eternity, he spoke. “Nothing except a chance to speak with you.”

“And for the lady that’s with you?” I asked, looking stubbornly down at my notepad.

“Nothing. She had to leave, so I’m on my own.” A stern reply. After a moment, he sighed. “I wish you would talk to me, Tia. I wish you would tell me what happened.”

My blood boiled.
What happened?
I told him I needed some time, and he got engaged to that trash in less than a month. And now he had the nerve
to show up at my place of work, with
her, and ask me what happened
.

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can get you?” I asked, my voice as cold and emotionless as I could possibly make it. He didn’t say anything. “Okay then.” I began to turn around.

He grabbed my wrist. “Tia,” he hissed, “I have a right to know why you won’t speak to me.”

I felt the blood surge hotly all the way to my head. The viciousness with which I looked at him could have burnt a hole through anything. “You have no
right. None
,”
I hissed, trying to keep my voice level and my stance controlled, so as not to attract attention. “If you had any, you lost it the day you got engaged. You are an engaged
man. Please leave me alone.”

With a force I did not recognize, I wrenched my wrist free of his grip and turned around. I could feel his gaze on my back all the way back to the kitchen doors.

I knew I meant—or wanted to mean—every word I had said to him. Except it was not the truth. I was carrying his child. He had every right to ask me what had happened. He had a right to know why I was avoiding him.