Just One Night, Part 1

  “Nonsense. You’re acting as a woman on the duff. I’ve read all about it.”

  “You have?” She allows me to lead her towards the bedroom. “When?”

  “Last night. You slept the slumber of the dead while I spent some time online.” I won’t tell her it was until four in the morning because then she’ll know the state of panic I’m in. I must appear strong for her.

  She pauses, her hand falling from mine in the corridor. “You did that? For me?”

  I shake my head, worried being too kind will send her into a puddle of tears. “Certainly not. I did it for myself. I’m to manage a lobotomized, pregnant female and a new partnership at the same time. Must be on my toes, you know.”

  She laughs, thank the stars above.

  “You’re crazy, you know that?” she says, letting me take her by the hand again.

  “I have come to the same conclusion.” We enter the bedroom and I sit down next to her on the bed. “Yet I don’t find that nearly as distressing as I might have a month ago.”

  “Why is that?” She looks up at me with glistening eyes.

  I shrug. “I cannot say. Normally my life has always been very predictable. I’ve planned it from start to finish. But ever since I met you, everything has gone sixes and sevens.”

  “That sounds bad,” she says.

  “It does sound bad, I admit, but in reality, it isn’t.” I stare at the floor trying to determine the best way to explain myself.

  “I get it.”

  “You do?” I look at her, wondering if she’s having me on.

  “Yes. It’s the same for me.”

  “Pray tell.” Perhaps if she can put it into words I’ll finally be able to understand it myself.

  She snorts. “I’m not saying anything.” She looks down at her watch. “I have to get dressed.”

  “Dressed? Don’t be silly. You have to sleep, preferably naked.”

  She lifts a brow at me. “You honestly think that I’m going to get naked with you right now?”

  I can’t think of what to say to that. Does this mean I’m in the sex dungeon? I certainly hope not.

  She stands and moves to her closet. “I have to find my white dress.”

  My face blanches. Does she mean to insist we marry? How do I feel about that?

  Looking over her shoulder at me, she laughs when she catches my expression. “It’s not that bad is it?”

  “Iiii … umm …” There is no right way to answer this question. I’m stalled out in a panic for fear that I will send her into a mad tailspin of hormonally charged emotion.

  “It’s just brunch,” she says, walking into the closet.

  “Brunch?” Her words and expressions are starting to fall into place.

  She sticks her head out of the closet. “Yeah, brunch. What did you think I was talking about?”

  “Right! Brunch!” I stand. “Yes, it’s terrible. Awful. A drag of epic proportions. I don’t recommend that you go.”

  She laughs and comes out with a white dress on a hanger. “We’re going. Better get your white on.”

  “Certainly not. I’m not a hospital orderly in a mental institution. I never wear all white. It’s ridiculous.”

  She puts the dress up to her front and looks at me. “Are you saying I look ridiculous?”

  I back away towards the hallway. “Never. No. Not in one million years would I ever say such a thing.”

  “Are you running away?” she asks, humor turning her lips up and making that dimple come out to mock me.

  “Madness.” It’s all I can get out before my feet are taking me down the hall and into the kitchen. I pour myself a large glass of orange juice and contemplate the current situation I’ve found myself in as I gulp it down.

  I’m going to be a father. I’m living with a woman I’ve met less than a month ago, the mother of my child. And I’m going to a brunch where the woman who tried to blackmail me for sex will be hanging on my father’s arm. A second glass of juice goes down just as easily. I only wish it were full of vodka.

  “I found you a white shirt and light slacks!” Jennifer says from the bedroom. She sounds too happy to be denied.

  I set my glass down on the countertop and sigh. My feet carry me to the bedroom as I pull my shirt over my head. That I will do as she asks is a foregone conclusion. All of my internet research has at least taught me one thing: one upsets a pregnant woman at his peril. And today, I do not feel like upsetting the delicate balance that is her good spirits measured against deepest sadness.

  So much for just one night. Funnily enough, that thought does not fill me with regret or sadness as one might expect. Rather, it brings on a warmth that fills me from head to toe.

  I must be coming down with the lurgi.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Jennifer

  I CAN’T REMEMBER THE LAST time I was so nervous. Even though I was invited by Frank himself, I still feel like an intruder in a place I don’t belong. It doesn’t help that the house is a huge mansion, and a real, live British butler answered the door.

  Mia texts me to ask what I’m doing, but I ignore her message and put my phone in my purse. I’ll deal with her later. She doesn’t know any of my latest news, and I can just picture her blowing up with pure Mia-energy when I start telling her everything that’s happened. I need to prepare myself for that, maybe have a valium ready for her.

  William holds my hand and leans into to whisper in my ear. “Don’t worry so much, darling. I’m here.”

  His words bring me a sense of peace. My hands are still sweating, but at least my heartbeats slow down a little.

  “I know. Thanks.” I squeeze his hand gently a couple times to let him know I appreciate his efforts. I can’t believe I’m actually pregnant and having a baby with this man! His family is going to hate me for screwing up his life like this. I hate me for screwing my life up like this.

  Well, okay … part of me does. The other part is secretly thrilled that I’m going to be a mother. It’s a very tiny piece of me, but it’s in there somewhere. Every once in a while I stop and realize that I have a life growing inside me and my heart does a triple flip. Then I push the thought away because it’s just too scary to deal with right now, and my pulse goes back to normal. At this rate, I’ll have a heart attack by the time I’m four weeks pregnant.

  We step through some large sliding glass doors onto a terrace that has a light breeze flowing across it. Large potted palms stand on all the corners and tall columns make me feel like I’m in a Greek temple. There’s a dining table set with white linens and china. There are three empty places.

  “William! Good to see you, son!” Frank stands, holding his arms out low, too low for an embrace.

  William takes one and shakes it and then lets it go. “Father.” He nods and gestures with one arm out towards his father and the other one resting on my lower back. “You remember Jennifer.”

  “How could I forget?” he says, taking me into a hug. “The better half of Stratford & Moorehouse.”

  I smile, feeling more than welcome, despite the frigid b-word sending off cold waves from a chair next to Frank’s. Ingrid is here and dressed in a white suit that looks more appropriate for a lunch with the Queen of England than brunch here. It makes me feel silly and underdressed. I wish I could hide behind William, but he’s already moved on. He stands at the chair next to his father, pulling it out for me.

  “Mimosa?” Frank asks, gesturing to champagne and orange juice on a small side table.

  “No thanks,” I say, realizing that now I have to avoid both the champagne and the caffeine I know is waiting in the teapot in the butler’s hand.

  I take my seat and William pushes it in behind me before sitting himself down. The butler comes over and pours us cups of tea. I wave the pot away before he can finish filling mine, but William takes his cup and immediately starts drinking it. He winces at the first sip, but then drinks some more, winking at me over the rim.

  Ingrid smiles, and it makes me go in
stantly cold. She’s staring at William like she wants to take a bite out of him. Or maybe I’m just imagining things. I’ll never forget that she is the reason William and I almost walked away from each other. Even though I’m sitting here dealing with an unplanned, single-mother pregnancy, I’m still absolutely sure that would have been a mistake to never see him again.

  “How was your drive over?” asks Frank.

  “Very nice, thank you,” I say, letting his words draw me away from the darkness that is Ingrid.

  “Uneventful,” William says, drinking more of his tea. When he pulls the cup away, he smacks his lips a couple times and then takes another sip.

  “Something wrong?” I whisper, leaning towards him.

  “My mouth is suddenly very dry,” he says, sounding confused. “Must be the orange juice I had at your apartment.” He takes the teapot from the butler and pours himself another cup, drinking it without even stopping to wait for it to cool. When he’s done he drinks the small amount that made it into my cup before I could stop the butler from pouring more.

  I’m distracted from watching him by the sound of the terrace door sliding open behind us. Turning around, I see Edward stepping through wearing the obligatory white outfit. He’s even more in line with Frank’s rules than William, since his shorts are white too. William settled on khaki pants to wear with the white shirt I gave him.

  Edward walks over as William gulps down the rest of his tea. When Edward is next to the table, William stands and takes him in a strong hug and squeezes him.

  Edward pats his brother on the back. “Someone had an extra shot of espresso this morning,” he says, his expression bemused.

  William releases Edward from the hug and stands ramrod straight. “Good morning, brother.” He takes him by the upper arms and shakes him a little.

  Frank leans over and whispers in my ear. “Is he on medication?”

  I shake my head and say in a low tone, “I don’t think so.” I’ve never seen William so animated. He’s like a completely different person. Is it being around his family doing this to him, or is it Ingrid’s presence? Or me being pregnant around them? He must be freaking out inside, even though outside he’s been very cool about the whole thing. I feel like I’m on another planet right now, everything’s so messed up.

  “Sit, sit,” Frank says, motioning with his hands but looking at me. “Tell us all about your new adventure. I’ve been waiting to hear more since yesterday.”

  I swallow hard, wondering which adventure he’s talking about. I’ve had way too many lately to know where to start.

  “Yes, do tell,” says Ingrid, sounding bored out of her mind.

  I can’t even look at her. I’m liable to throw a fork into her eyeball if I so much as see a smirk coming from her direction. I have enough pressure on me right now, I don’t need her crazy ass messing with me too.

  “Sorry for not returning your calls,” William says, taking his seat again. “We were quite busy with … things.” He places his hand on mine on the table, giving me a brief smile.

  I don’t know what to say or do. William is acting so kooky, like he’s suddenly high on drugs.

  “Things?” says Edward, also sitting down. “Sounds mysterious. Have anything to do with the improvement to your chin?” He points at William’s face, to the large scratch that the twat monster gave him when she fought with him at my apartment. I don’t remember any of it, but William filled me in while we waited for my discharge papers to be completed.

  William touches his scab. “Oh, this? No. Well, perhaps it does relate to some degree.”

  My eyes bulge out at him and I kick him under the table. He’s not going to tell them what happened is he? Ack! As if I don’t feel enough like a bumpkin in my sundress, now he’s going to tell them I get in chick fights?

  Frank leans in, squinting to see William’s face. “What happened, then? Did she crack you already?” He looks at me and winks.

  “No, actually, I was attacked and assaulted at the hands of an enraged woman who is not Jennifer.”

  My face starts to burn red. I feel so trashy having gotten in a chick fight with Hank’s mistress. William is ignoring the kicks I’m giving him under the table. He’s too far away to nudge with my elbow, which is probably good because at this point I’d probably crack one of his ribs.

  “Attacked?” Edward says. “Are you serious?” He looks at me. “Is he serious?”

  My face feels like it’s on fire and my stomach starts to churn. “Maybe a little. It’s not a big deal, really.”

  “Well I for one would love to hear the story,” Ingrid says, suddenly sounding interested.

  Bitch. Of course she’s excited now. There’s violence involved. I wouldn’t be surprised if she wore a spiked bra with the metal parts turned to the inside.

  William takes my napkin from my plate.

  I open my mouth to tell him he has the wrong one when he snaps it open and places it gently in my lap. Everyone watches in stunned silence as he makes sure it’s perfectly straight. I finally have to slap his hands away to get him to stop.

  He turns his attention to his own napkin, oblivious to everyone staring at him.

  “Brother, are you feeling okay?” Edward asks, leaning in to look at William’s face.

  “Right as rain. And you?” He looks up at Edward, and for the first time I notice his cheeks are flushed. He has two bright red spots at his cheekbones.

  “Your pupils are severely dilated,” Edward says.

  “Did we mention that Jennifer is pregnant?” William says, like he’s announcing the weather or something equally minor. He’s breathing rapidly. “On the duff. And I’m the father. I hope you will all be as thrilled as we are with the news.”

  “Is this some kind of joke?” Frank says, kind of loudly, sitting back in his chair and frowning.

  I take my napkin from my lap and put it on the table, leaning over to look at William closer. “Are you all right?” I ask, concern for my own issues going to the back burner as I see the crazed yet worried look on his face. Edward was right; William’s pupils are huge.

  “It’s possible … I might feel a bit piqued, actually.” William uses his napkin to wipe a bead of sweat off his forehead.

  Edward stands at the side of his brother’s chair. “Up you go. Time to walk it off.” He takes William by the arm and forces him to get on his feet.

  “Right,” William says, sounding a little lost. “We’ll just take a little promenade around the garden.” Two steps later and he’s falling against his brother’s side, limp.

  Edward catches him in time to keep him from crashing all the way to the ground.

  I jump to my feet, throwing my chair out behind me as Frank runs over to help them. “What’s wrong?!” I shout. “What’s wrong with him?!”

  “Lie him down on the chaise lounge,” Frank says, grunting under the weight of his son. William’s legs have collapsed under him and his head is lolling to the side.

  I want to help but I’m frozen, trembling all over. “What’s going on?” I ask in a whisper. I watch as William is laid down on the long chair and his family stands over him slapping him on the face. He’s not responding.

  “Are you going to call nine-one-one or should I?” Ingrid asks in a bored tone, sitting in her seat, acting like it’s no big deal that William just passed out cold.

  I pull out my phone and dial the three numbers, my fingers shaking the whole time.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  William

  “YOU TWO ARE STARTING TO become regulars in here,” says Gladys, smiling as she feels for the pulse at my wrist.

  “He got jealous with all the attention I had when I was in here,” Jennifer says, I believe attempting to make a joke of the fact that I acted as a woman wearing a corset laced up too tight on a hot summer’s day.

  She’s told me that my father and Edward are waiting in a room down the hall, but I have no desire to see them. I’ve cocked-up the news of Jennifer’s delicate condition, a
nd there’s no way to undo the damage. I feel guilty being happy over this temporary reprieve I’m enjoying in this hospital bed.

  “The doctor will be in shortly. She’s just next door,” Gladys says in a conspiratorial whisper, like it’s a big secret that she’s around.

  “Good. Then we can get to the bottom of this nightmare and go home.” I stare at the ceiling, irritated that I cannot get up and walk out of here on my own recognizance. I’m still wearing the ridiculous brunch clothes, but they are better than the horrid hospital gown someone asked me to put on when I arrived. A very satisfying pallor came over the complexion of the nurse who I sent away with a glare. As if I’d ever be caught dead in such a thing.

  Jennifer shows no sign of being distressed on my behalf. She keeps looking at me and smiling as if she approves.

  “What are you so happy about?” I ask, snappishly.

  “I prefer you this way to the way you were at brunch. Seeing you act so strangely and then go all dead-guy limp was awful.”

  “Yes, well, I’m glad I missed it.”

  Jennifer leans in and whispers into my ear. “I didn’t realize how much I love your dry sense of humor and alpha male thing until it was suddenly gone.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I refuse to be coddled, even though her words are like a balm over my injured ego. Alpha male? I’ll show her an alpha male. Just get me out of this place and we’ll see about that. I’ll make her pregnant twice in one go.

  She takes my hand. I don’t push her away, but I’m not yet ready to go soft on her. I let her do the work of twining our fingers together.

  “You okay?” she asks when the nurse is gone.

  “Jammy. Just jammy.”

  “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” She’s giving me that look of pity again. It makes me positively peeved at myself.

  “I’ll bet you’re feeling nothing but regret right now, aren’t you?”

  She frowns. “Because we missed the brunch?”

  I stare at her for a long time, attempting to control my temper. After all this, she’s taking the piss. Or perhaps she’s not. I cannot tell. My head is still a little … fuzzy. “Are you taking the piss?” I finally ask.