Underfoot. Leanne Banks
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said.
Ben gave her another considering glance. “Okay. First order of business is Walker Gordon.”
Trina’s heart leapt. “You want me to fire him?”
Ben laughed. “Hell, no. The board is still partial to him even after the Brooke fiasco. There’s a point person assigned to him from marketing and we need a point person from PR. That would be you.”
She swallowed a gasp. “I thought he still needed to present a commercial before the board approved him.”
Ben shrugged. “Yeah. It better be a decent commercial. But when has Walker done anything that wasn’t stellar? As long as Bellagio has his personal attention and he’s got his game going, we’re going to go with him this time. Marc Waterson himself told me.”
She swallowed seven swear words. How was she supposed to work with Walker? If he was going to stay in Atlanta, she was going to have to tell him about Maddie.
Her expression must have revealed her lack of enthusiasm. “You don’t look happy about it. I always got the impression that you and Walker got along well.”
“We did,” she said without much conviction.
Ben wrinkled his brow. “Has something happened that I need to know—”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly, her heart racing at the lie. She prayed the color of her cheeks didn’t betray her. “I, uh—” She cleared her throat and gave a tight smile as she manufactured a reason for her response. “I just thought Bellagio would benefit from a fresh point of view. In terms of advertising.”
Ben relaxed. “I see your point, but you gotta admit Walker has always done a good job for us. So we’ll see how he handles the next campaign. And of course since you’re the point person, it will be your job to make sure it’s a success,” Ben half joked, pausing when she remained silent.
“If you think it’s going to be too much, we could turn it over to Dora.”
“Oh, no,” Trina said, feeling protective of her job, her future, her baby’s future. “I’m up for it.”
“Just because I’ll be upstairs doesn’t mean you can’t call me for anything,” he assured her.
“Thanks and congratulations,” she said, rising to her feet.
“Yeah.” He stood, too. “Don’t spread it around. Nothing’s official yet.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to you later,” Trina said and left his office, her mind whirling. This was the promotion she had been working for since she’d started at Bellagio. She’d called in favors from old schoolmates to get exposure for Bellagio. She’d worked late and sacrificed. Finally, it was within sight. The promotion was more important than ever to her now that she was in charge of Maddie’s welfare. Trina knew she could do the job. She also knew she would need support. Someone who could do her grocery shopping, occasionally prepare meals and take care of Maddie when Trina needed to work late. Her stomach twisted at that last possibility, but she didn’t dwell on it.
Walking into her office, she opened a file on her computer and made notes about requirements for the position she needed. She sucked down a cup of coffee and called Bride Magazine to confirm a mention of Bellagio shoes in the June issue. It took some extra delving, but she learned the shoe size for the fashion editor at a top women’s magazine and arranged to send her pair of Bellagio sandals.
Grabbing a Diet Coke, she started to dial marketing when her phone rang. “Trina Roberts, hello.”
One beat of silence followed. “Trina, it’s Walker.”
Her throat tightened and she took a breath to help her relax. “Walker, hello.”
“I just talked to Ben and he told me you’re going to be one of my go-to people.”
“That’s what I hear,” she said with forced cheerfulness. “What can I do for you?”
“I thought it would be good to touch base with you about the commercial and my ideas. Is a drink after work okay?”
“Let me check my schedule and I’ll get right back to you. It might be easier for me if we meet at the office earlier in the afternoon.”
“I’m stuck all day shooting this commercial.”
“Okay, then let me call you back.” She hung up, hating the fact that her hands shook. She was going to have to get hold of herself. Reviewing her options, she called Jenny Prillaman.
“Hey, girl,” Jenny said with a smile in her voice. “How’s your gorgeous baby?”
“Gorgeous and growing,” Trina said. “You offered to keep her every now and then. Any chance you could keep her for a little while this evening?”
“Oooh, hot date?” Jenny asked.
“Business.”
“Oh,” Jenny said in a disappointed tone. “I wish I could, but the wedding machine is in high gear and Marc and I have a meeting with the minister tonight.”
“That’s okay. No problem,” Trina said.
“But you have to promise that you’ll ask me again,” Jenny said.
“I promise,” Trina said, thinking Jenny had to be one of the sweetest people in the world. “But since you’re getting married soon, you may be starting on your own babies.”
“One thing at a time. Call me soon.”
“Sure thing,” Trina said and dialed the number of another friend who already had plans.
She winced as she regretfully dialed her last choice. “Mom, it’s Trina.”
“Hello, dear. I’m playing bridge.”
“Okay, I’ll keep it quick. Any chance you could pick up Maddie tonight and keep her for a little while?”
“Yes. Do you have a date?”
“No, business.”
“Oh,” her mother said, her voice full of disappointment. “I wish you would start—”
“Thanks so much, Mom. I shouldn’t be long. Just pick her up at the company day care. Kill ’em at bridge,” she said and hung up.
After work, Trina stopped by a salon close to the office and got a shampoo and blow-dry. With every sweep of the round brush, she rehearsed how to tell Walker about Maddie.
I had a baby six months ago. You’re the father.
I don’t expect anything from you.
I don’t want anything from you.
I don’t know why the contraception didn’t work. Perhaps because we were both plowed.
Why didn’t you tell me before? he would ask.
I just kinda never got around to it.
Trina rolled her eyes at herself. Lame, lame, lame. She glanced at her fingernails and wished she had time for a manicure. With Maddie-girl, she was always washing her hands after changing a diaper or before feeding or after cleaning carrots off Maddie’s face.
She was glad she’d worn black today. It made her feel less vulnerable. Exactly how was a woman supposed to dress when she told a man that she’d had his baby?
She swallowed over the bubble of panic in the back of her throat.
What could he do to her? she asked herself, trying to approach the situation rationally. He couldn’t accuse her of trying to trap him into marriage. He couldn’t accuse her of trapping him into being a real father to Maddie because she had resolved a long time ago to ask and expect nothing of him.
What if he didn’t believe her?
She clenched her jaw. That bothered her. That really bothered