Unsaid

  At first, Blake thought she was nuts, but soon realized she’d never experienced her own big ceremony when she married Eddie. Therefore, it made sense why she insisted on the upcoming St. Patrick’s Cathedral ceremony, followed by a formal dinner reception at The Plaza Hotel.

  He recalled many instances growing up where he’d witnessed Birdie living vicariously through her daughter. At school dances, Lex was often overdressed, like a doll on display.

  “We need to do more for her,” Miguel finally said. “Blake and I will take turns watching the baby.”

  “Huh?” He had never babysat before. He wanted to, but the little bugger sort of scared him. Even more since the divorce because he’d let go of the idea of ever having kids. He didn’t want to parent solo.

  “Sí.” Miguel leaned forward, getting more into the conversation as Vive and Birdie listened. “Lex should go part-time at Easton.” His reasoning: the brand was established, it was time for her to take a backseat and enjoy her family.

  “No way.” Taddy shook her head.

  “Massimo has been begging Lex to cut back,” Blake said.

  Miguel had grown close to Massimo since she introduced her fiancé to the group. Blake liked that Miguel was a guy’s guy. He himself was more of the girl’s gay husband.

  “At her own company?” Taddy huffed as if they’d stated the impossible.

  Blake had watched the two women grow their businesses over the years. It took all the get-up-and-go they had to launch their enterprises, and twice as much energy to grow and maintain them.

  “We’ll do whatever she needs.” Miguel’s voice grew louder. “I know Massimo refuses to have outside help. He only wants the family and us around.” He wasn’t used to anyone in the group challenging him, not even Taddy.

  Blake appreciated the respect everyone gave Miguel. It made him more attractive to him.

  Birdie wiped her eyes. “I told them to get a nanny. I can’t be there all the time.”

  The night’s stress obviously overwhelmed her. She’d buried Eddie four years before and helped Lex with Easton as well, while climbing her way out of bankruptcy. And like Vive, she also struggled with her addictions. The year was supposed to go smoothly. No more drama.

  Taddy came up and kneeled beside her. “Blake and I will help you with the responsibilities at Easton.”

  She played hardball, but Blake knew better. Deep down inside, she was a softy and would give her left arm for her best friend.

  “Thank you.” She patted her hand for understanding.

  He watched Birdie argue with Taddy a lot over the years, especially since she owned a large portion of the Easton business, but in the end, they always seemed to work it out.

  “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” Vive blurted out loud. “You’re all talking about Lex as if she’s an invalid. She’ll do whatever the hell she wants. She always has.”

  “Right, she’s gonna be fine.” He’d been telling himself that for a few hours now, but hoped by saying it out loud everyone would believe it. He’d never known her to even have the flu. At the Avon Porter Academy, it was Taddy who was always in the infirmary, maybe a cry for her parent’s attention. But their fashionista was sorta of made out of steel. “Do you guys remember in the tenth grade when Lex fractured her arm?”

  “I sure do. Our Bionic Girl played through the entire softball game, then turned to the coach and said, ‘I think my arm is busted.’” Vive gave a little laugh. “She’s such a sport.”

  Birdie smiled as tears fell down her cheeks. “My daughter sure is lucky to have you guys.”

  “Lex is lucky to have you, too.” Taddy pulled her in tight as she sobbed. “We all are.”

  “Principessa.”

  Lex heard Masi whisper in her ear. His warm hand grabbed at hers as she started to wake up and open her eyes.

  Caressing her hands, he said, “Ti amo.”

  “I love you, too.”

  On the hospital bed, tucked under the covers, the mattress felt thinner to her than their bed at home. Shit, it felt as if she were on the hardwood floor. She estimated three hours or so must’ve passed. Earlier, blood was drawn. She must’ve dozed off as they waited on the results.

  “You want him, sì?” Massimo held up their son.

  Eyes wide, Massimo Junior smiled.

  “Please.” She sat up and reached for him. “He needs to be fed.”

  Her son felt heavier in her arms than she remembered. Massimo Junior, Massimo the second, or ‘M2’ as they’d nicknamed him, was growing up fast.

  Lex uncovered her right breast from the cotton gown. “Hi, baby,” she cooed as he took her nipple and began to suck. She winced and closed her eyes for a minute, trying to get comfortable with the sensation. “Where is the doctor?”

  Massimo got to his feet and poked his head out the doorway. “Taddy and your mom appear to have stopped shouting at one another.”

  Her best friend had ridden with her in the ambulance. She’d demanded of the hospital administrator that Lex get the top private floor—a wing reserved for dignitaries and celebrities, which she would become very soon. And being the daughter to Eddie and Birdie Easton made her a celebrity, even though she never thought of herself as such. She hated to receive any special treatment.

  “Who’s still here?”

  “Everyone but Thor. He took Jemma to get a bite to eat.”

  “Blake and Miguel?”

  “Sì, with Vive, Taddy and your madre.”

  “Send them all home.” She loved her friends and it was sweet that they’d come, but she felt fine and didn’t want to make them worry.

  “They aren’t going to leave ‘til the doctor tells us what’s going on.” Massimo had grown to love Lex’s friends as much as she did.

  “I’m fine. I’m tired is all.” She let M2’s head rest against her arm. Once his little belly filled with her milk, he’d doze off leaving his mouth open. It was the cutest thing.

  “Lex, you’re not fine. You can’t keep going on like this.”

  Oh, God. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She tried to keep calm and her voice low. Embracing M2 kept her from getting too worked up when Massimo started in on her.

  “Principessa, you’re doing too much.”

  “Then why do I feel as though…it’s not enough?” There weren’t enough hours in the day to get her punch lists done.

  “You need to stay at home and be with our son.”

  Shit, there it was. What every new mother who also has a career hates to hear. “I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom. We’ve gone over this a zillion times. I run my company and co-manage yours.” They’d merged Girasoli Garments, his company, with hers a while back. Together, they ranked as the second-largest apparel manufacturer in the world.

  “M2 needs you.”

  “He has me. He comes to work with me. I’m at home with him as much as any other mother can be. Just because we have money doesn’t mean I don’t have to work.”

  “You don’t have to work, Lex.”

  “Work is who I am.” She hated when Massimo did this. He made her feel guilty for having a desire to have a career. “Don’t be so Italian.”

  “Don’t be so American.” He never let her get away with sassy talk. She loved that about him. He’d kept her on her toes from the minute they’d met. He was also the greatest lover in bed. But right then, she wanted to punch him.

  “We should’ve waited to start a family. But no, you insisted against birth control.” She hadn’t been sexually active much before she’d met Massimo. Hungry for his touch, she’d fallen passionately into their lovemaking without thinking clearly.

  “We have a beautiful son.”

  “That we do.”

  Lex’d only wanted one child. Massimo had wanted a dozen. They’d agreed on three kids, and then her tubes would be tied. She didn’t think she’d get pregnant after their first romantic weekend together.

  “Miss Easton.” Dr. Reed Cedar greeted them as he came in the room.
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  The doctor had been with the family for years. Ever since her father broke his back, Dr. Cedar had been a part of their life. Back in the late ‘90’s at Madison Square Gardens, Eddie had jumped out into the audience, expecting the crowd to catch him.

  They didn’t.

  Her father hadn’t realized during his Eddie’s Gone Mad World Tour, while his fans loved him, most were high. Too stoned on marijuana to realize the flying object coming at them was real, let alone in need of being caught. When he broke his back, he was taken to Empire General and cared for by Dr. Cedar.

  “We have some of the test results back.”

  “What is it?” Lex covered herself, sat up, and took her son over her shoulder. M2’s body warm against hers. Rubbing his lower back, she burped him.

  “Congratulations, you’re pregnant.”

  “Meraviglioso.” Massimo clapped his hands together, making a loud noise in the room as if he’d won another round. “I knew it.”

  “No.” So soon? She didn’t think it was possible, but realized she hadn’t gotten her period in God knew when.

  Not again. Damn you, Masi.

  “About eight weeks.” Dr. Reed stepped closer to the edge of the bed. “Your blood pressure is high, but manageable, and your iron is low. Everything else checks out fine. I’ll have the nurse get you started on the vitamins.”

  “Two years of my life is going to be spent knocked up? I don’t believe this.”

  “Bella.” Arms wide, her husband-to-be came at her for a hug.

  “Get away from me.”

  His eyes glassed up as he grinned. “This is incredible.” Massimo kissed M2 on the forehead. “Our bambino will have a brother or sister.”

  “Good, then you can carry the baby the rest of the way. I quit.”

  He rolled his brown eyes and laughed.

  “Lex, I see from the OBGYN notes your first pregnancy was difficult.”

  “Two days of labor with no effin’ epidural is not difficult. It was Hell.” She’d tried to go natural. The editors at Marie Claire and Harper’s had persuaded her to. It was the right thing to do, they said. Wrong.

  She didn’t want to be judged as a new mother by the cliques on the Upper East Side. Labor was all those ladies could talk about. How they delivered, what method they used, who their doctor was. The delivery chatter was worse than keeping up with the Jones’ pretentious fashion labels. But once the epidural window of opportunity had closed, she realized she’d made a mistake. A painful one.

  “Lex, mio amore.”

  “It’s torture…I haven’t recovered from the first delivery. I was actually contemplating having a surrogate carry the rest of our kids. Christ, I’m almost thirty. My body can’t handle this.”

  “We don’t have to do it like last time.” Dr. Reed didn’t seem fazed by her surrogacy confession. What was wrong with having someone else carry her baby? Over the years, if stars like Sarah Jessica Parker and Grace Hightower could pull it off without Manhattan’s society getting all righteous, she could do it, too. Granted, she was a little younger than them, by a decade or two.

  “I want you to knock me out and take the kid from my belly. Let’s schedule a C-section for when the time comes.”

  “Basta!” Massimo glared at her.

  She knew she was being ridiculous, but...

  “Our staff will make your pregnancy a joyful one, for you and your family,” Dr. Reed tried to reassure her.

  “Joyful as in painless?”

  The doctor deadpanned and eyed Massimo with a questionable look on his face.

  “I’m serious.” Lex inhaled the sweet smell of her son’s nape as she hugged him close. Did she want another baby? Yes. Just not so soon. Unwed, she’d never gotten to be a wife, not yet. M2 had come so fast. And she couldn’t forget her business. In its own right, Easton Essentials was similar to having another baby. A four-year-old business, which required constant care and looking after. Another baby was on the way. Could she do it all?

  “Miss Easton, you may go home tonight. We’ll set up your next appointment in a few weeks. You’ll need bed rest tomorrow.” Dr. Reed shook their hands, again congratulating them. He left the room, whistling one of her father’s songs.

  One day in bed isn’t so bad. “Masi, will you please get my clothes.”

  “Sì.” He had that ‘I’ll take care of you’ look in his eyes. The one he’d had for her throughout her first pregnancy. It was part adoration, pity and fear.

  “Let’s go.”

  Sitting up, she put her feet on the floor. She’d have to get the extra bedroom ready, the one Jemma, Rocco and Luigi were going to stay in that week, and block out her schedule six months down the line. They were going to have another child. But first, there was a little thing called a wedding they had to take care of.

  Dirty Birdie

  Midtown

  Nestled ten floors up from New York City’s exclusive shopping strip was the Exhale Bliss Spa on Fifth Avenue. Voted by Allure magazine as the best urban retreat, Blake had no idea the sprawling space of tranquility was so exquisite. Sure, he’d heard about the place, who hadn’t? But he didn’t take time for pampering, not like this. As he talked about the previous night to Thor and Vive, he wished Lex was with them today. She’d probably enjoy this.

  Of course, she was pregnant. They’d been foolish to think it was anything otherwise. He was excited for Massimo, M2, Birdie, and her. Their royal family was doubling. But why did her good news make him feel even more alone?

  Lex would always be a part of his life. So would Massimo and their children; he knew that. Nevertheless, he couldn’t help but wish he was the one starting a family. Instead, he was coming off a divorce, and at some spa getting a manscape makeover to prepare his body for some sexual fantasy he knew would never happen. But he enjoyed his time with Vive and Thor, and they were putting him in better spirits.

  “Why am I anxious about getting sugared?” Blake asked Thor who sipped loudly on a mimosa next to him.

  Vive had downed three, maybe four, champagne flutes already. Opting for no orange juice, she was also in a great mood. “You’re nervous ’cause we’re wearing bleached cotton.” Her slipper flopped to the floor as she crossed her legs and rolled up one of the long sleeves on her robe. “Seriously, this shit itches. They need to call our Lex and have her design their spa wear in cashmere.”

  “We’re gettin’ naked in a few, Viveca. They could dress us in organic barbwire for all I care. Geez!” Robe open, Thor didn’t bother covering up. He let everything hang out.

  From the end of the hall came a hot Asian man. Standing at about five-ten, he had almond-shaped eyes, which spoke of seduction. His jacked body exuded sex.

  “Mr. Edwards, ready for your pedicure?”

  A southern accent. What an alluring combination.

  “Why, hello there, Mr. Kim Lee. It’s good to see you again.” His friend stood.

  “Close your robe,” Blake sassed.

  “Mind your business.” Gingerly, Thor tied himself at the waist, but only after a lasso-style swing and spin, which gave everyone in the ‘quiet room’ a peep show. “Have fun, you two. I wanna see cum in your hair, Vive, or on your face, Blake, when I get back.” He winked and was off down the hall following Mr. Kim Lee.

  “Cum is good for the hair, thank you very much!” Vive shouted. She didn’t miss a beat.

  “Funny.” Blake sat up. “So, that’s the famous pedicurist you girls rave about. He’s cute.”

  “Mr. Kim Lee is hawt. He does this razor action on the soles of my feet. I’m all ballerina-iffic when he’s done. We love him.” On the sofa, she scooted over, looping her right arm around his as she drank more champagne. “After sugaring, you’ll feel like a shiny new penny.” Her head rested against his shoulder.

  “Love the sound of that.” He inhaled her scent. Vive always smelled expensive.

  “If I haven’t told you lately, I’m proud of you.”

  “You are? Why?” He couldn’t imagine
.

  “No one knows better than me what it’s like to bury your past.” She blinked. “See, you may never get over Diego. And that’s okay, Blake. But you will move on. I promise. A step at a time, one day after the next, you’ll carry forward.”

  She might be three sheets to the wind most of the time, but the girl had a big heart.

  “How did you move on after San?” he asked, remembering Vive’s first and only love, Sanderloo Konjik.

  Sanderloo had attended the Connecticut Military Academy a few miles down the road from Avon Porter. He’d been accepted into West Point for college, when he was killed. Blake had blocked out of his mind the events which led up to his death. They were horrible. But he’d never forget Vive had always loved Sanderloo, enough to carry his baby to term and give the infant up for adoption.

  “I drink. That’s how I move on.” She squeezed his arm, tight. She rarely spoke about him, but he could tell Sanderloo was always on her mind.

  Two tall, masculine figures came from the hall.

  “Here they are.” Excitement rang in Vive’s voice.

  Hans and Franz-type hunks in tight T-shirts with fitted pants approached. The black-haired one, whose arms reminded Blake of Popeye, referenced the clipboard.

  “Miss Farnworth?”

  “That’s me.” She raised her hand and giggled, girlishly.

  “You’ve booked the four-handed massage. I’m Dar and this is Weber. We’re your massage therapists for today.”

  “Allow me.” Weber extended his hand, helping Vive up as she thanked them flirtatiously.

  “My assistant, Bari, a little blonde, annoying thing, raves about you two. Says you’re orgasmic.” She covered her mouth as if she’d let a secret slip. “I mean, Bari says you two are the best at working out muscle tension.”

  “Bari, the former Miss Mississippi?” Dar asked.

  “That’s her.”

  She turned back to Blake and whispered in his ear to relax and go with the flow. Like Thor moments before, Vive toddled off with a spring of sudden excitement in her step.