The Pitch: City Love 2, page 30
Christa nodded, her blue eyes filled with sympathy.
“I want Paul to be with me because he loves me, not out of duty to a child he doesn’t even want.” I sniffed and swiped some tears away with my hand. “So I’ll do it alone if I have to.”
Confusion crossed Christa’s face. “You don’t need to. You love Paul and he loves you – ”
“But if he can’t love this child, then I’ll leave.”
“You just need to give him time,” Christa said again.
“How much time does someone need? I knew, Christa. Even in the doctor’s office, I knew I wanted this baby. I couldn’t fathom – still can’t fathom – how I’m going to make it work, how Grounded Marketing will keep running, but I knew.”
“That’s because this is an unexpected miracle for you, Maddy. It’s totally different for Paul.”
“Exactly.”
“You can’t blame him for being shocked.”
“I’m not blaming him for being shocked. I’m shocked by his honesty,” I said numbly.
“And he’d just watched the woman he loves collapse in the middle of a crowded bar!” Christa leaned forward, her blue eyes heated. “Then he discovers you’re pregnant! Give the guy a break.”
“I am,” I replied. “I’m going to give him the break he deserves.”
Christa shook her head at me. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m going to allow him to walk. I’ll take full responsibility for this child, he doesn’t even need to be involved if he doesn’t want to.”
“This isn’t a business deal, Madeleine! And do you think it might be a good idea to actually have a proper conversation with him first before you decide on his behalf?”
Christa rarely used my full name. It was a sign of how exasperated she was, but I didn’t care. I finally felt as though I was starting to make sense of the situation. “He’s told me all I need to know, and I need to prepare myself.”
“He loves you!”
“And I love him, but that’s not always enough.”
Christa actually growled in frustration at me. “Those pregnancy hormones are doing seriously weird things to your brain – ”
“My brain is fine.”
“Well, to your emotions then.”
“The only thing the pregnancy hormones have done to my brain is to make me realize something extremely important.”
Christa sighed. “And what’s that?”
“As much as I love Paul, I love this baby more.”
Chapter 41
Paul called just after midday on Saturday, not long after Christa had left.
“How are you?” he asked. I could hear the boys in the background. It sounded like Noah was annoying Jack.
I wondered if “you” included the baby. “Better.”
“Do you need anything? I’m with the boys, but we could drop around and bring you some lunch. Do you need any other supplies?”
The thought of playing happy families with him and his boys right now was more than I could bear. “No. Thanks. I’ve got food here and I’m just going to rest. I’ll probably have a nap.”
“Did you want to come here for dinner, then? I can pick you up.”
“I don’t really feel like going anywhere this weekend.”
There was a beat of silence at the other end. “Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”
“Okay.” I bit my lip. There were so many words on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason I couldn’t find the courage to speak them. Not after the hospital on Friday night.
I thought I heard him sigh, but I could have been imagining it. “I’ll call you on Monday.”
I stared at the phone for a long time after he’d hung up.
*
Monday morning I was at work bright and early. I’d rested all weekend and was starting to feel more like myself again – more like the pregnant version of myself anyway. Thankfully there’d been no more bleeding. I was now sporting an impressive multi-colored bruise on my forehead though. Concealer was my best friend.
I’d discovered long ago when I was recovering from the tumultuous break up with Chris that distraction was therapeutic. I threw myself into work with a ferocity that had my mother watching me carefully from her desk all day. We spoke little, just the necessary conversations, until four pm when she knocked on my door. This was her signal that she wanted to talk.
I waved her in, my eyes still on the creative brief I was in the middle of approving.
She cleared her throat and I looked up.
“The campaign is live, you know.” She was referring to the ACB account.
“I know. I’ve neglected a lot of other things in the meantime. I’m just trying to catch up.”
“It looks like you’re trying to neglect other things as well.”
“Oh?”
“Paul’s been calling all day.” There was an undercurrent of disapproval in her voice.
“I’ll talk to him tonight. I’m busy.”
Paul had called my mobile several times and I hadn’t answered. He’d then called my mother directly, which just pissed me right off. She might be my PA, but that wasn’t the point.
“He’s worried about you. After your fall on Friday night.”
I’d told my mother about the fall. There was no way I could fully hide the evidence, no matter the amount of concealer I applied. Naturally I’d left out the bit about being pregnant and I’d sworn everyone else to secrecy. Max hadn’t liked it, but he liked it better when I was being nice to him.
“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I repeated.
“Is everything alright?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
My mother’s lips pressed themselves into a long thin line. “He’s a good man, Madeleine.”
Why did everyone have to keep reminding me of that? “I know.”
She sighed. “Have it your way. I just hope he’s also a patient man.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
My mother gave me a long look. “You know exactly what it means.”
“No, actually, I don’t.”
“You have very high standards, my dear. Often that means you push people away.”
I arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize high standards were such a bad thing.”
“They’re not, but it’s clear he’s done something to have fallen short of those standards. Is it really a deal breaker? Or can you perhaps try to compromise?”
I almost laughed, but managed to catch myself. “It’s a deal breaker.”
“Oh, Madeleine.” The disappointment in her voice was evident. “Sometimes I think you prefer to be alone.”
“Mother.”
“I also think you deliberately keep your standards high to protect yourself. That way you don’t have to let anyone in.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Which was my polite way of telling her to leave.
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Ask yourself this: is the price of protection more important than the chance of happiness with a man who loves you?”
“You can leave now. And please close the door on your way out.”
She shook her head, then did as I requested, leaving me alone in the silence of my office.
*
Despite my best efforts to distract myself, by six o’clock I was tired enough to call it a day. Old school Madeleine would have worked until at least nine in a vicious frenzy of activity, but I was learning pregnant Madeleine was a different story. I shut down my computer and started gathering my things. I was so busy fantasizing about a lazy evening on the couch watching mindless television that I didn’t notice Paul.
“How long are you going to keep avoiding me?”
I looked up, startled, to find his tall form leaning against the door. I swallowed, his presence hitting me harder than I could have anticipated. He was wearing one of his navy business suits and he’d loosened the tie. His hair was a little scruffy, but somehow it only added to his appeal. A vision of him playing the guitar on Friday night popped into my mind.
Damn it. It was so much easier to avoid him when he wasn’t in the same room as me. Having him here made the dull ache I’d been doing a very good job of pushing away, resurface.
“I’m not avoiding you,” I replied. “I’ve just been busy.”
Paul raised his eyebrows, a flicker of heat flaring in his eyes. “I got that.”
I didn’t say anything. I busied myself with collecting my things again.
“Come and have dinner with me.”
“I’m tired.”
Although I wasn’t looking at him, I heard him approach my desk. “It wasn’t a request.”
“Really? That’s nice. What about the boys?”
“They’re with their grandparents tonight.”
I didn’t reply. Instead, I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door. Paul grabbed my arm as I swept past.
“Madeleine.”
I made a show of staring at his hand, which was tightly gripping my arm. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was firm. He released me.
“We need to talk,” he said softly.
“What about?”
Genuine anger flared in his eyes this time. “You know what about.”
“You’ve made your feelings pretty clear on the subject.” I gave him a hard look and started for the elevators.
I heard him swear under his breath and he followed closely behind. I was conscious of a few sets of curious eyes belonging to several of my staff as we crossed the open plan area of Grounded Marketing.
Paul waited until we were alone in the elevator before speaking again. “I was in shock on Friday night.”
I nodded, staring at the display as it counted down the floors to the ground level.
“I’m not going to walk away from you, or the child you’re carrying.”
“I didn’t expect you would.”
Confusion crossed Paul’s tired features, but I didn’t allow myself to feel sorry for him.
“Then why are you being so cold?” he asked.
The anger I’d been working hard to clamp down on, reared. I swung around to face him. “Because I’m not an obligation to be met.”
“How could you even think that?”
“Then tell me you want this child,” I demanded.
Paul opened his mouth to speak at the same time the elevator dinged for the ground floor. His momentary hesitation was the only answer I required. I stalked from the elevator. I dodged between the other people in the building foyer, my heels echoing loudly.
Paul caught up as I waited at a set of infuriatingly slow pedestrian traffic lights. He took my elbow, more gently this time, and leaned down close to speak directly in my ear.
“I’m not going to leave you.”
I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, the pedestrian light was flashing green. I shook free of Paul’s grasp and turned to look at him. “But you don’t really want this child. So I’m leaving you.”
I stepped quickly into the street, disappearing into the crowd of evening commuters, leaving Paul standing open-mouthed on the footpath.
Chapter 42
Later that week I sat in a pleasant waiting area with Christa and Scarlett. There was a large bookshelf filled with an array of books and a wooden coffee table piled high with magazines. A collection of colorful toddler toys sat in the corner.
“Jordan?” Scarlett asked.
Christa shook her head. “No way. Too overused. Besides, you should really stay away from boys’ names starting with ‘J’.”
I gave Christa a curious look. “Why is that?”
“Ask any teacher. Boys starting with ‘J’ are troublemakers. Steer clear.”
I had no idea where she’d acquired this knowledge, or when she’d become such an expert on naming children. “I’m having a girl anyway.”
“How could you possibly know that?” Christa asked.
“Mother’s intuition,” Scarlett answered for me. The corner of her mouth twitched as she looked at the book currently open in front of her. “Here you go. How about Skylar?”
Christa made a face reminiscent of a bad smell. “She’d have to have a lisp.”
Scarlett chuckled. “How about Autumn?”
“I’m not naming my child after a season,” I informed them. “Besides, I’ve already decided what I’m going to call her.”
Scarlett rolled her eyes and muttered ‘typical’ under her breath.
“What is it?” asked Christa eagerly.
“Ava.”
Christa’s expression turned thoughtful. Scarlett grunted.
I looked at Scarlett. “What? You have a problem with that Aunty Scarlett?”
She shrugged. “No. It’s very Madeleine of you, that’s all.”
“I like it,” Christa announced.
“You can call your daughter Autumn when you have one,” I told Scarlett.
She closed the book with a loud thud, clearly giving up on trying to convince me to choose a more creative name.
“Madeleine Spencer?”
A middle-aged woman dressed neatly in a navy skirt and pale blue shirt stood in the doorway of the waiting room.
I stood and smiled. Christa and Scarlett stood too.
“They’ll be joining me,” I told the woman.
She nodded. If she was curious as to why two women were accompanying me to my ultrasound she didn’t say it. Then again, she’d probably seen it all.
We followed her down the hallway.
*
Later, the three of us sat in a small coffee shop not far from my office. The morning sun was already blistering and I was thankful for the low awnings protecting us from the February glare.
“It’s a shame you have to wait until your nineteen week scan to find out the gender,” Christa commented.
“Yeah, I want to see your face when they tell you it’s going to be a boy,” Scarlett said.
I hid a grin. “It’s going to be a girl.”
“We’ll see,” said Scarlett.
“Is that a bet, then? What are the terms?”
“Laughing myself senseless when you discover you’re having a boy called Ava.”
“Deal.”
The mood was celebratory. The ultrasound imaging had been amazing and even though my baby was barely thirteen weeks, we’d been able to see her tiny body in great detail. Minute arms and legs were already moving and kicking inside me, and it had left me speechless.
“You could have warned me part of the ultrasound was going to be internal,” Scarlett added.
I waved a hand at her. “When you’ve experienced a decade of my issues, that’s nothing.”
“God, imagine that’s what you did all day,” Scarlett mused. “Sticking a giant plastic – ”
Christa cleared her throat. “I’m so happy for you. And it’s wonderful that everything is perfectly okay.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Despite the week I’d had, I couldn’t hide my bright smile. “It’s such a relief.”
“I can’t wait to meet little Ava.” Christa beamed back at me.
“I know what you mean, although I’m thankful I’ve still got a lot of time to get ready,” I replied.
“Will you tell your parents now?” Scarlett asked.
I took a sip of my tea. It didn’t taste as good as coffee, but after seeing the little person moving inside me, I didn’t care. “Yeah, I’ll tell them tonight.”
“They’re going to be elated. Especially your mother,” Christa said. “Do you think she’ll put pressure on you about Paul?”
I stiffened. “Probably.”
The three of us went silent for a minute. Paul had been calling me all week, ever since I’d left him standing in the city on Monday night.
“You’re really going to leave him?” Christa asked me softly.
“I already have. He’s just got to come to terms with it.”
Scarlett swore, surprising both of us. “You’re being an idiot.”
“Oh?” I set my cup down and observed Scarlett’s dark expression with as much distance as I could manage.
“Yes! You could at least try to make things work. Then if they don’t, you leave him.”
I frowned. “Interesting advice coming from someone who doesn’t believe in relationships.”
“The difference is you were in a relationship to start with. Come on, Christa, back me up here.”
Christa looked uncomfortably at me, but remained silent.
“Alright then,” I said. “What do you think?”
“I think for as long as he loves you, you need to give it a chance.”
“He loves me, not the baby.”
“That’s some killer mother instinct you’ve got there, tiger,” Scarlett commented.
I ignored her and took another sip of my tea.
“Why aren’t you prepared to give him a chance?” Christa asked.
I sighed and put my cup down. “Paul spent weeks avoiding me when we first met, despite the fact he was interested in me.”
“That was because he thought he was too old for you,” Christa said.
“And because he thought a younger woman would want a family. Once I convinced him the age gap wasn’t an issue, it was only when he discovered I couldn’t have children that he really allowed himself to commit to me.”
Christa twisted a napkin distractedly. “People can change their minds.”
“He’d be changing his mind because he loves me, not this child,” I said softly.
“Isn’t that enough to start with?” Christa asked.
“Not for me.”
“But you still love him!”
I felt like the conversation was going around in circles. “Yes, I do. But how long will that love last if he can’t give me what this child needs?”
Christa’s face fell. “I just wish you’d try.”
We fell silent again, watching the city traffic breeze past us. To my surprise, Scarlett reached over and placed a hand on my arm.
“We’ll stand by you,” she said.
Christa nodded. “Yes. Just because I don’t agree with you, doesn’t change that. I’m here for you.”
*
As expected, my mother and father were elated by the news of my pregnancy. Unfortunately it only took my mother about two seconds to get over the shock before she started in on me about Paul. In the end it actually hadn’t been my mother I’d had to convince. My father had practically thrown himself at the phone, threatening to get Paul on the line and demand that he “man up.”
