Page 17 of CEO's Baby Scandal

“I’m pregnant.” There was a little life growing inside me, one that Daniel and I created together. It was a living, breathing miracle and I was a part of it. Every fear that had just gone through my head for the past twenty minutes was gone, replaced with joy I couldn’t express.

So what if it was happening earlier than I had planned, or in an unexpected way? I was going to be a mother, and I wasinstantly in love with the little boy or girl I was carrying. I wept for a solid ten minutes, clutching that test stick. I didn't know how I would tell anyone the news. Their reactions would be exactly as I feared, but I had to remain confident.

I wiped my eyes and tossed the test stick into the trash. First things first, I had to find out if Daniel even wanted children.

12

DANIEL

Iglanced at my watch. It was nearly quitting time and my day had been nothing but meetings and calls for hours. I was exhausted and hungry. I strolled past Jill’s new desk. She was happily typing away at her computer like always. “How’s the new job? I hear you hired a new assistant for Olivia.”

Her face lit up and she looked up at me. “Yes, sir. Jeffrey starts tomorrow with Olivia. He’ll be a great fit for our team.”

“Good, good. I’m glad things are working out for you.” I tapped my fingers on the corner of her desk and moved on. I was glad to have Emily to myself now and that the subsequent shifts in personnel had been positive for everyone.

After stopping off at the men’s room to relieve my bladder, I headed to my office. Emily was not at her desk as I expected her to be, but the door to my office was ajar. I always left it shut, so I knew Emily had to be in there working. It had become somewhat of a mutual workspace, shared because she did so much for me now that she needed more room to work.

As I walked in, I noticed the files and papers she had spread across the area rug. There were at least a dozen stacks of paper. She hovered there, placing copies of the sheets of paper in her hand onto the top of each pile.

“Collating? You know the copier will do that for you?”

“Yes, I know.” She was brusque, leaning over the stacks without looking up. It wasn’t like her to be abrupt with me, so I figured something was wrong.

I walked around her, careful not to step on any of her work, and pulled up a chair so I could sit and talk with her. She was busily sorting her paperwork, and I wondered why she hadn’t just used the copier, but I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to upset her.

“How has your day been?”

She glanced up at me as I asked but refocused on her work. “Fine.” I hadn't spoken to her much, but I didn't figure that was a reason for her to be this upset with me. We had a lot of days where communication was minimal and I found it challenging to carve out time during my workday to spend with her.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No, you did nothing wrong. Okay?”

I sat and watched her collating all the files for at least twenty minutes. Her shoulders were tense, and her brow was furrowed. If I didn't know better, I would have thought she was upset with me, but she had told me that she wasn't upset with me, so that left me very confused. When she had all of her sheets distributed to the appropriate piles, she took each stack and stapled them. Then she stacked them all together.

As she pushed herself off the ground to stand, she gave me a great view of her ass. That skirt she wore fit her like a glove, and I couldn’t resist saying, “Wow, your ass is incredible in that skirt. How about you come over here and sit on my lap and let me help you relax?”

“Look, D, I don’t have time for this today.” She dropped the papers on my desk. “The documents for your four o’clock tomorrow are here. You can check them out, but I did exactly what you said to do.”

Emily turned to face me, and I noticed her sullen expression. It appeared there were tears in her eyes, though I didn’t want to pry. “Are you okay?”

“I said, yes, I’m okay.”

I stood and walked over to her. “You don’t look okay.” I reached for her, but she moved away, heading toward the couch. There was another stack of papers there that she picked up.

“Look, I just don’t want to talk about it.” She curled her hair around her ear and walked back to my desk, and this time, I didn’t let her avoid my grasp.

“I care about you, Em. Look, something is wrong. Talk to me.”

She looked down as if she was ashamed or afraid of talking to me, and I felt saddened that she would ever feel those emotions around me. Our relationship wasn’t conventional, though, and I had been very busy and distracted. Even our lunches together had been crowded out by meetings for the past week.

“Look, can we talk?” she asked. She wrung her hands, and I nodded.

“Of course we can talk. Let’s sit.” I gestured toward the couch, and she walked with me and sat down. Her shoulders drooped. I could tell she’d been crying too. As close as I was, I saw the streaks through her makeup, long ago dried but still visible up close. “Tell me what’s on your mind.”

Emily sighed and said, “Well, I think if we’re going to have a relationship, we need to make it official, you know?” She looked up at me with a hopeful expression. “I think just having lunch together when you’re not busy and sex over your desk—it’s not enough. I want more, D. I want to date you and have dinner. I want to see your house, and invite you to my apartment. I want to introduce you to my parents at some point, and I want to have sex in a bed. Not on a couch, or across a desk, or on a throw rug.”

I wagged my eyebrows, remembering the sex over my desk. “That was pretty hot sex, though. You have to admit it.”