Prince Charming's Child. Jennifer Greene
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morning.”
He heard voices chattering from the outer office, drawers slamming, Wilma’s throaty laughter. The staff was leaving for the day. So could he. She was obviously asking to be left alone. Only she really looked like a puff of wind could keel her over—and if he left, there’d be nobody in the office to even know she was in trouble.
“I take it whatever happened was personal, not business.”
“Yes. Which is exactly what I meant—it’s not your worry.”
“And you were gone for a couple hours this afternoon.” Wheels start clicking in his head. “You had a doc or dentist appointment? Heard some upsetting health news? Or something in a different direction, like your place was vandalized, or something happened to someone in your family—?”
“Good grief. I didn’t meant to give you the impression there was anything so dire. I was gone for a doctor’s appointment, that’s all. I’m fine, I’m telling you—or will be by tomorrow. It’s just right at this minute, I admit I’m not at my best—”
He received the m.y.o.b. message loud and clear. But her hands were shaky, her voice warbly and that priceless skin was too damn ghostly white. His boss wasn’t always cool in a crisis, but he’d never seen her near shambles. “So what’d the doc say to upset you?”
“Mitch. This just isn’t an appropriate conversation. There is absolutely nothing that should worry you or any of the team. Or the business.”
“Screw the business. We talking tumor, heart, cancer—?”
“Holy spit. Nothing like that.” As if his rapid-fire questions had finally nagged her over the edge, she blurted out, “I’m pregnant.”
Pregnant.
He couldn’t be the first man who’d been stunned silent by that particular word, but these circumstances were a tad unusual. His heart quit beating altogether, then seemed to change its mind and start slamming nonstop at a racehorse pace. He wasn’t positive he could budge from that blue silk chair if there’d been a fire.
“Damnation, Landers. I never meant to tell you that.” Nicole never used his last name unless she was ticked off with him—which, come to think of it, happened a couple times a week. But not for something like this. She pushed a hand through her hair in a gesture of impatience. “Since I opened my big mouth, I’m afraid I’m stuck saying a little more. First, I’d appreciate your not saying anything to the rest of the staff. It isn’t a matter of keeping a secret. The pregnancy will be obvious before long. But I just found this out, and I’d like some time to think about what I’m going to do and how I’m going to tell other people before being put on the spot.”
“Don’t be silly. You tell me a confidence, I’d take it to the grave.” He wanted to say something more, but there seemed to be a lump in his throat about the size of Alaska. Not to mention that his heart was pounding so loud in his ears that he could barely think.
She pushed out of her chair again. Up down, up down, like a yo-yo. But he understood. When anxiety was chasing your tail, the inclination was to try and outrun it by staying in motion. She paced over to the window and stared down at the pounding surf below, then yanked the shades to block the view. “I’m afraid there’s a little more to this. In this day and age, there’s nothing that odd about a thirty-two-year-old woman choosing to have a baby without a husband in sight. I mean, a woman can choose the best time for her in terms of biology and health. There’s no stigma about being a single parent anymore. And If I could just sell that story to the staff, I don’t think anyone would blink twice. Unfortunately, there’s no possibility of my selling that fib. Because of the circumstances, the real truth is going to come out whether I want it to or not.”
“You’re saying there’s some complication...like you don’t want the baby?”
“Oh, I want the baby.” Instinctively she pressed a hand on her heart. “I didn’t plan for this right now, and for sure I haven’t had two seconds to make plans about how I’m going to cope. But the baby...I’ll find a way. Whatever I have to do. It wasn’t really finding out I was pregnant that threw me into shock. It was the shame.”
“Shame?”
Again she sighed. Again she raked a hand through her hair, paced away from the window, and leaned back against her tall pecan credenza. “Mitch, I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
He knew. She never admitted any private problem to the staff. She had an unbending code about what bosses should and shouldn’t do around employees—and that had always applied doublefold to him. The lump in his throat seemed to be growing to the size of the Northwest Territories. She wasn’t talking by choice, but because she was too shook up to hold it in. “Just spill the rest of it. You’ve gone this far. Get the rest off your chest.”
She whispered, “I don’t know who the father is. How could there be a worse shame than that? And that isn’t even the worst of it.”
Through a mouth dryer than an abandoned well, Mitch said, “So, okay. Let’s hear the worst.”
She gestured wildly with her hands. “I don’t remember. Sleeping with anyone. It’s been years since I was involved—the business took so much time to build up. I just didn’t go out. And there were other reasons that I never...” She clipped off that thought, and zoomed in another direction. “The thing is, it had to have happened the night of the Christmas party. There was no other possible time.”
“The Christmas party,” he echoed.
She seemed to assume something from his change in expression, because she swiftly nodded. “Yes. I know. That means it was someone here. One of the team. That’s what I meant about not being able to lie—someone here unquestionably knows the truth. And on top of everything else, that it could be one of our team makes me guilty of sexual harassment—”
“What?” Hell, the woman kept lobbing grenades at him. He couldn’t keep track what direction she was going to come from next.
“Come on, Mitch. I’m the employer. That puts me in a power position in terms of the law—and that really kills me, because I thought I was always so careful about that. But what it means is that I put one of the guys in a terrible position. Everything’s my fault. I had no right...”
“Wait a minute, wait a minute—” The lump in his throat had grown to the size of a couple of continents now, but he had to get past it. She was beating herself up right and left.
But he couldn’t get a word in. She was way too wound up to even acknowledge the interruption. “...and not being able to remember makes it so unforgivable. The problem was the champagne—and I don’t mean that like an excuse. There is no excuse for drinking when I know it goes straight to my head. But the champagne apparently fogged my memory. And that’s one of the critical things I just don’t know how to deal with—coming to work, facing you all, what I should say about the pregnancy when someone here obviously knows what happened. You’re going to laugh, but I thought it might be you. For two seconds.”
“Me?”
“I know. Really impossible.” She rolled her eyes to the ceiling, at least for that second showing an honest spark of humor. “You and I rub against each other like a snake and a mongoose. Maybe that’s why I suddenly spilled all this—not that I meant to vent on you, Mitch—but because I was so sure you have no interest in me that way. And that’s one of the things that’s confused me. Why the man never said anything. And no one has. All I can think is that he must really have felt put on the spot and regret that night really badly—”
“Hey, I don’t think you should just assume that. There could be all kinds of reasons why he kept quiet.”
“Well, whatever the reasons, I have to figure out who it is.” She was back to pacing again, hips swinging, hands in constant motion. “First I thought...John. Like out of kindness, because he’s still having a rough time getting on his feet after that divorce. Maybe he turned to me