Page 20 of CEO's Baby Scandal
“Are you okay?” a soft voice asked me along with a knock on the stall door. I sat on the toilet but hadn’t even pulled my pants down, so I opened it up and saw a waitress there with compassion in her eyes.
“I’m pregnant, and my boyfriend just told me he didn’t see himself having a family.” I sobbed louder. It felt good to get it off my chest.
“Oh, honey.” She crouched in front of me. “Listen, you can do this. It’s not the end of the world. Okay? I’m a single mom and I’m killing it. There are so many opportunities in Chicago.” She rested her hand on my knee, but her words were not so comforting. It was further proof that I’d made a mistake.
“Thank you.” I grabbed some toilet paper and blew my nose. “I think I should just go back to the table. I appreciate your listening.”
“Sure, no problem, hun.”
I took a few minutes to wash my face and reapply my mascara before heading back to the table. Daniel wasn’t there, so I sat alone and ate another slice of pizza I’d probably regret later on. When he returned, presumably from the bathroom or from paying the check, he looked concerned.
“Are you okay, Emily? I’ve been asking what’s wrong all day and you just aren’t talking to me. It's clearly more than just my being your boss or what coworkers will say.”
“I… Uh, I’m sorry Daniel. I got a call from my mom this week and it just really upset me. Okay? It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“You’ve been crying again. I worry about that.” He reached for my face and cupped my cheek. I was comforted by his gesture, but my heart was still really sad.
“I’m okay, really.”
“Well, you’re down, and I don’t want to take you home to sit alone while you’re down. You can come to my place. I’ll show you around, and we can have a drink or just sit on the patio and talk.”
“Work tomorrow… How will I be ready? I have no clothes at your house.” I hesitated. The way he had pressured me to drink earlier made me very uncomfortable. I liked a glass of wine orspirits as much as anyone else, but not while pregnant. I loved this little life inside me more than life itself. There was no way I was caving to that peer pressure, and he would wonder why. “Maybe tonight isn't a good night.”
“Nonsense. It’s a perfect night. I’ll have the driver bring you home to change before work, and it will be fine.”
His insistence that he protect and watch over me was sweet. I nodded. “Okay, I’ll go.” I rose with him as he dropped a few bills on the table as a tip. If he pressured me to drink, I’d just have to tell him. Besides, his home was a much better place to have that argument than a restaurant. It was inevitable, anyway…
14
DANIEL
Ilet Emily in, waving the maid off at the door. She gawked upward at the large crystal chandelier hanging in the foyer, her mouth hanging open. At first I chuckled at her reaction, the way she ran her fingers along the picture frames of the French paintings hanging on the wall, but then doubt began to creep in as I remembered my mom’s accusations against Emily’s character. I observed her for a moment, pondering.
“God, Dan, these things are worth millions of dollars.” She rushed over to a small stand with a vase sitting on it. It was a one-of-a-kind Émille Gallé straight out of Paris that I had imported to match the paintings. She started to pick it up, but I interrupted, taking it from her hands carefully.
“Some things are better left untouched.”
Her eyes went wide. “It’s expensive?”
“Everything in this house is expensive.” I set the vase back on the stand and hooked my arm around her waist. “Let’s go see about that drink.”
Emily stiffened when I mentioned a drink, which she previously refused, but I guided her toward my den anyway. She glanced over her shoulder at the vase and walked with me as I flipped on lights along the way.
“I’d show you around the entire place, but the staff is probably mostly asleep by now. We can just entertain ourselves for a while.” I smirked at her, hoping she understood my meaning. The way her cheeks flushed indicated she understood.
“You have very expensive taste.”
“I do, but it’s because I want for nothing. I don’t work because I have to. I work because I enjoy working. I love doing my job.” I flicked on the light in my den and let her in. She gasped at the wall of books, shelves stretching floor to twelve-foot ceiling. My collection of classics and certain first editions were organized in order of monetary value, with the most expensive to replace being safely stored in sealed plastic on the top shelf. Though my first editionGatsbywas front and center on a shelf just below eye height. Emily was immediately drawn to it, touching the glass enclosure gently. The exact reason I had that particular one in a case. Everyone loved to touch it, and since Emily was a book lover, I didn’t mind fingerprints on the glass.
“You have aGatsby?” Her eyes wide, she looked back at me, a half-grin curling her lips.
“I do, but you can’t touch it. Books that old have to be stored in very careful conditions so they don’t get damaged.”
“Of course they do.” She leaned in and cocked her head, presumably so she could read the spine. “I’ve never seen a first edition. How much was it?”
There it was again, the mention of something’s price. Maybe it was because we were so different, or maybe it was because I had only really entertained women of a much wealthier status, but Emily seemed both alluring and alarming in the same breath. Mother could very well have been right about her being a gold digger, but I didn’t want to believe it, so I chose to believe the former. She wasn’t used to being surrounded by such pricey things.
I poured myself a glass of bourbon and downed it in one swallow, not even bothering to ask her if she wanted a drink. After her previous reactions, I knew what her answer would be. “Well, the copy I have has a smudge on page one hundred twenty-three, but I paid two hundred fifty thousand for it.” I set the glass on the liquor cabinet and joined her by the books. “You are a fan?”