A Pregnancy Scandal (10 page)

Nonetheless, he'd started this showdown. And his points were still valid.

“I'm not talking about giving up your career. Just take it easy until the babies are born and maybe then stay home for six months? I don't know, just thinking out loud.”

It was a compromise. He'd like to say she should consider being a stay-at-home mom. Twins were a huge responsibility. Plus, he worried about her. She should be resting, not pushing herself to the point of exhaustion.

With Gina, this conversation never would have happened. His first wife had talked for hours upon hours about how she couldn't wait to be a mother, couldn't wait to raise their children. She'd had no job outside of being his wife, and he'd never realized how that had translated into making his life easier. He had no practice at resolving marital disagreements because Gina had never disagreed with him.

“Keep thinking,” Alex shot back, and one tear spilled down her face. “I'm going to work. You do your thing and maybe I'll see you later. Don't worry about me. I was taking care of myself just fine before you came along. Which means I can call a taxi on my own, too.”

With that, she flounced off as she angrily dashed the tear away, leaving Phillip with a burn in his chest, no plus one and no explanation for why he wanted to punch the wall. Or maybe he should just punch himself. It would probably hurt less than being responsible for making Alex cry.

* * *

Phillip slunk to his car, but instead of directing Randy to drive home, he asked to be taken to his grandfather's house. Max Edgewood was the only person on earth who would give Phillip a warm welcome no matter what. And honestly, he needed a friendly face right now.

Amelia, his grandfather's maid, answered the door the moment Phillip knocked. Randy had called ahead as he drove so Max would be expecting visitors. The older Phillip's grandfather grew, the less he got out of bed, but for some reason, he refused to receive visitors while laid up. So there was a process to get the elderly man dressed and into his wheelchair so he could be taken to the ground floor by elevator.

As expected, Max sat in the formal parlor with a wide smile on his face and an oxygen tank hooked to the back of his chair. “There's my favorite grandson.”

“Last time I checked, I was your only grandson. You uncover a long-lost relative I don't know about?”

It was an old, beloved routine, but it warmed up the cold place in Phillip's gut that had formed when his wife stormed off. Because her husband had hurt her over his own conflicted emotions.

“Never,” his grandfather announced imperiously. “In my day, we didn't lose track of our family, even without the benefit of Facebook and thingamajigs that beep and vibrate and who knows what all.”

“Still not a fan of cell phones?” Phillip let his face fall in mock disappointment. “Too bad. I bought you one for your birthday.”

“Well, that's a horse of a different color. A man cannot in good conscience refuse a thoughtful gift. Give it here.” Max nodded and held out his hand.

“Ha. Your birthday isn't for two months. Don't you try to con your way into an early present because it won't work. But I might have something else...”

He drew it out as long as possible because he knew Max well and the man could not stand to be left hanging. He'd instantly become a dog fighting over a prized bone. It was one of the qualities that had made him such a great senator.

His grandfather scowled without any real heat. “Don't toy with me. I taught you those tricks, boy.”

With a smile, Phillip handed over the ultrasound pictures he'd tucked into his wallet yesterday. Max glanced at them, then back up at Phillip quizzically. Then the light dawned. His eyes went wide as he stared at the pictures. “Two?” he whispered. “You're giving me two great-grandchildren?”

“Only because you're the best grandfather in the world,” Phillip confirmed as Max laughed out loud, drawing the attention of Amelia and Nancy, his full-time nurse, both of whom rushed into the room to see what was happening.

“Look at this, ladies. I'm gonna be a great-grandpa times two.”

Amelia and Nancy oohed and aahed over the ultrasound photos, but you could only look at blobs for so long. They congratulated Phillip and drifted back to their posts.

“You should have brought your lovely new wife by,” Max suggested and waggled his bushy brows. “I haven't even met her yet.”

Guilt crowded into Phillip's chest, and there hadn't been that much room in the first place with all the other stuff going on inside. His grandfather couldn't travel and hadn't been able to make the wedding, and then Phillip had been so busy commuting back and forth before and after that he hadn't made the time.

All just excuses in the end and not the real reason. If anyone would see his marriage as a sham, it would be Max, and Phillip hadn't wanted to answer any pointed questions about the nature of the agreement between him and his wife. Not in front of the one person who would instantly clue in on how it
looked
like Phillip had moved on...but really hadn't.

“Next time,” he said instead.

If there was a next time. The fight he'd just had with Alex came rushing back, and it must have registered on his face because Max narrowed his gaze far too shrewdly for someone with cataracts.

“Trouble in paradise already?”

Phillip scrubbed his face. “She's working twelve, fourteen hours a day. I don't think it's good for her or the babies, and I guess trying to talk to her about it was the wrong move. She got pretty upset and stormed off.”

“Take it from me. I'm an old widower but marriage hasn't changed in sixty years. You're wrong, no matter what. Apologize and make it good,” Max advised and then shushed Phillip as he started to speak. “No, really. You're wrong. Trust me.”

“So, I'm supposed to be okay with the fact that she's working so much?” Phillip frowned. “I can't accept that.”

“Oh, I didn't say I agreed with her. I said you're wrong. You can spin that with her however you want. You handled it wrong. You were wrong to upset her. You misunderstood the question and gave the wrong answer. Whatever works to make her feel like she's understood and being heard. That's what women really want.”

Phillip raised a brow. “You never gave me that advice when I was married to Gina.”

“Gina was a sweet lady and you were so in love with her.” Max smiled craftily. “But you were her whole world. She didn't have a life outside of Phillip Edgewood, United States senator. This new marriage is not the same. You have to give more because Alexandra is older than Gina was when you married her. More set in her ways. Less pliable. You don't want a pliable woman anyway, son. You married this one because she's totally different from Gina. Admit it.”

Yes.

Shock shut Phillip's mouth so he couldn't say it out loud, but he was pretty sure he didn't have to. Of course Alex wasn't anything like Gina, but he'd been so busy following the rules to keep his new wife at arm's length that he hadn't stopped to examine
why
he'd been so attracted to someone so unlike his first wife.

He'd like to claim he'd done it deliberately, so he could guarantee he'd never fall for Alex. But that was the reason he'd married her, not the reason he was so attracted to her. That, he couldn't control. At all. Alex made him feel things he'd never felt for any woman before, and being the mother of his children had a lot to do with it. He could pretend all day long that was all it was—a fondness for the woman bearing his twins. But that wasn't all it was. No amount of guilt or pretending could change that.

“How did you get to be so smart, anyway?”

“Don't be grouchy just because I'm right.” Max put a soothing gnarled hand on Phillip's shoulder and paused as his voice dissolved into a phlegmy coughing fit. When he'd recovered, he asked, “Now, what's really going on? You didn't have a fight about her working too hard because I'm pretty sure a woman who founded her own company always works a lot of hours.”

That was what he got for telling his grandfather so much detail about the woman he'd married. Phillip's shoulders slumped as he recalled that Alex had said something very similar. “Yeah. It's kind of a mess.”

The whole story poured out before Phillip even registered opening his mouth. How he didn't want to be in love again. Too painful. Much easier to go into a marriage without expectations. He needed a wife. Alex hadn't wanted to get married but he'd talked her into it.

Maybe
guilted
her into it was a better description.

Max nodded here and there but didn't interrupt. When Phillip finished talking, his heart felt ten pounds lighter. Who would have thought confession would be so good for his soul?

“I thought for sure that a marriage based on a mutual agreement would work.” Phillip stared at his wedding ring. White gold instead of yellow because he hadn't wanted it to be the same as the first one. “But I have no idea how to handle things with Alex. Did I make a mistake, Grandpa?”

Fear seized his lungs, and he couldn't breathe. If he had made a mistake, that meant he had to make it right. That meant losing Alex. And his babies. He couldn't.

Max worked his lips, his gaze distant and thoughtful. “Here's the thing, son. Marriage isn't about how much you love someone or what
you
need. It's about how much you're willing to give. How well you're meeting
her
needs. Doesn't matter why you got married. Only whether you're willing to do the work.”

His grandfather's advice ringing in his ears, Phillip flashed back to all the events since Alex had announced she was pregnant. She hadn't wanted to get married. He'd convinced her. She hadn't wanted to be a politician's wife. He'd blown that off and told her she'd be great. She hadn't wanted to be alone in the house when he wasn't there. He'd tried to take away her one refuge—numbers.

She'd done all the hard work thus far.

All this time, he'd thought he was being unfair to Alex because he'd sworn to withhold love from her, and it had blinded him to all the other imbalances going on. Instead of throwing his weight around, he should be bowing and scraping and treating her like royalty. He had to fix things or he would lose his plus one due to his own idiocy. Make that his plus three.

He'd assumed the learning curve would be steeper for Alex because she'd never been married before. But he hadn't realized that it would be a totally different ball game for him too the second time. Because he'd married a different woman. For different reasons.

“What should I do?” Phillip murmured.

“You already know the answer to that.” Max nodded once for emphasis and started coughing again.

Phillip had overtaxed his grandpa with his own foolishness. It was way past time to leave. And his grandfather was right. There was no mystery here. He had to admit he was wrong and start working as hard on his marriage as Alex was. Easy. Look how brilliant she'd been at the ribbon cutting. Had he even thanked her? He couldn't remember.

He stood and rubbed Max's shoulder. “I should go. I need to talk to my wife and let you rest. Okay if I bring her by sometime?”

“Of course. How else would I get a chance to steal her away from you?”

Phillip grinned. “Ha. You can try, old man, but you will not succeed.”

“Bring it on,” Max called out as Phillip left, a new plan already forming in his mind.

Back to Basics had been a great start but he needed something bigger: the Give Back Plan, which included making sure Alex got what she needed in this relationship. As long as he stuck to the rules, he could afford to be a lot more emotionally supportive.

Nine

A
lex pivoted, but her stomach didn't look any less flat from that angle than it had from the left side. The mirror had to be broken. When was she going to start showing? Three months pregnant was a third of the way there.

She wanted to see some physical change, some hint of the miracle going on inside. Something that would prove she hadn't done the babies any harm by continuing to nurture her career as well as the twins.

Because at least half the reason she was still upset about the fight with Phillip a day later had to do with guilt. What if he was right? What if something terrible happened because she refused to listen to him? Morning sickness was a giant flashing warning, her body's way of saying
slow down
. And she hadn't been heeding the message.

At least all her clothes still fit. Shopping was not high on her list of pleasurable activities and she was kind of banking on Trinity and Cass picking out all her maternity clothes when the time came.

She glanced up as Phillip appeared in the mirror behind her.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

He'd come home last night with a dozen roses and a sweet apology. She'd accepted both. But hadn't forgiven or forgotten the reason they'd had a fight. Mostly because she'd got exactly what she deserved after filling in the
if only
blank. She'd let herself start to hope, just a tiny bit and
bam
...they'd got into an argument because she'd forgotten the rules. They were partners, not lovers who supported each other no matter what. No second chances, period, end of story. Hoping for something more? That had been the biggest in a long line of mistakes.

No more mistakes. If she screwed up, her kids would be fatherless, just like she'd been. That was not happening. This marriage was strictly designed to ensure her family didn't suffer because of her own selfishness.

So things between her and Phillip were...strained, for lack of a better word. Of course, they hadn't been married but a little over a week. Maybe this was normal for them.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” she allowed and slicked on a coating of Harper's Crushed Blush lipstick, which she'd had for a year without using it all.

They'd been invited to a party at Phillip's parents' house, which she sorely did not want to attend but couldn't think of a good excuse for skipping. The question of her working through her pregnancy had not been broached again, but neither was it resolved, and the last thing she wanted to do was spend time faking her enthusiasm for the Edgewood clan.

But this was her role in the marriage. It was a fair trade for giving her babies a father. She just wished she didn't have to keep reminding herself that she was getting a good deal out of this.

Phillip had abracadabra-ed another dress from her closet that she'd never seen, and part of her wanted to hate it. But she didn't. It was a beautiful off-white wrap dress with a long skirt that reminded her of something Marilyn Monroe would wear.

She put it on. It fit. She looked spectacular in it. What was there to hate?

But she couldn't help feeling like a trophy wife.
Her.
Alexandra Meer...er, Edgewood. Her husband wanted to trot her out like a show pony, provided she had the right saddle. Coupled with everything else, especially the seesaw of emotions she constantly rode, it was too much.

They drove to the party in silence, though Phillip kept shooting her glances like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure how it would be received. Smart man.

The senior Edgewoods lived a short distance away in a newer part of Preston Hollow. New being relative; Phillip's house had been built in 1938. The Edgewoods' sprawling property rivaled their son's in elegance and beauty but clearly had a more modern design.

Randy opened the door and the Edgewoods' butler helped Alex from the car. Phillip put his hand on her back to escort her up the stairs. It was a simple gesture, but his touch burned through her.

Okay, that might be the sole physical response she couldn't chalk up to anything more than the pregnancy. Why did her body respond so quickly and ferociously when all Phillip had done was absently touch her? It was maddening.

The party was in full swing. People thronged the expansive grounds at the rear of the Edgewood property, all seemingly in a festive mood.

Alex pasted on a smile and greeted people she vaguely remembered from the wedding. She'd been so sick that day. She'd barely registered much of anything, let alone people's names.

Today, the swirl in her stomach had everything to do with uncertainty and a strong desire to not say anything that would raise eyebrows. Mostly that meant she had to keep her mouth shut and let Phillip do all the talking. Easy. He was a born charmer.

To her shock, he didn't park in the middle of a group and start chatting as he usually did. With barely a nod to those who called out to him, Phillip swept her past the knots of people and ushered her straight to a nearly empty gazebo overlooking the pool, pointing her to a wicker love seat. “This is your spot. Relax and I'll bring you a drink. Ginger ale?”

“Um...sure?” A bit off-kilter, she watched him thread back to the bar set up on the south end of the pool and accept a clear plastic cup from the uniformed bartender.

Phillip didn't stop to talk to one single person as he rushed her drink to her waiting hand.

“What else can I get you? Something to eat?” he asked.

“What's going on?” she blurted out. “Why are we here if you're not going to work the crowd?”

He sat on the love seat next to her, his gaze riveted to her face and not scanning the crowd for someone he needed to speak to. She was it, and oh, how she felt it deep inside.

“Because it's a party and I thought it was important that we have fun. Together. We don't do that.”

“No, not as a rule.” Or rather, because of the rules. They didn't have a relationship where they had
fun
. Did they? “Out of sheer curiosity, what would be the definition of
fun
?”

He smiled, and it washed over her with unexpected force. Like it had the night of another party. “A drink. Maybe I tell you a joke and you laugh. We talk about our favorite TV shows from when we were in third grade and perhaps a few interesting people happen by who join in on the conversation. Maybe we'll all weigh in on whether our parents let us watch
Blossom
or thought we were too young.”

She couldn't help it. The laugh came out on its own.

“Hey,” he protested. “I didn't tell you the joke yet.”

“I was like seven when
Blossom
went off the air. I only cared about dolls and ponies and kitty cats, if I recall.”

His grin widened and she forgot about the rest of the party. “Then you were definitely too young. Our kids won't be allowed to watch anything questionable until they turn twenty-one.”

Our kids.
It had such an intimate ring to it. She wanted to gather the feeling close and hold on to it. And that was enough to spring her guard back into place. “Really, you don't have to hang out with me. You should go network.”

He waved off her comment. “I can do that anytime. I have to go back to Washington Sunday night and I want to spend time with you while I can.”

Tenderness spread through his expression, and that was so lovely, she forgot why she wasn't supposed to let her heart squish when he looked at her.

A noise behind her alerted her to the presence of someone else, and reluctantly, she tore her gaze from her husband to see his mother clambering up the steps to the gazebo.

“Here's where you've spirited off my daughter-in-law to,” Mrs. Edgewood exclaimed and swatted her son on the arm as she sank into the adjacent wicker armchair. “Whew, I was starting to think I'd never sit down. Thank you for picking such a great place to hide.”

Guilt reared its ugly head, driving Alex to protest. “Oh, we're not hid—”

“You're welcome,” Phillip interjected smoothly over Alex's hasty response. “This is the best seat in the house for people watching.”

Alex gave him the side-eye. Had he just admitted to his mother that he was avoiding people at his mother's own party? That was the kind of faux pas Alex usually made and had sworn to never make again.

But his mother laughed. “You used to come here all the time during parties when you were younger, Phillip. Remember? The adult ones you weren't invited to because they went on past your bedtime. You didn't think I knew, but Nana always kept me in the loop.”

“Nana was my nanny,” Phillip explained as an aside to Alex, still grinning fondly at his mother. “She had a real name but I couldn't pronounce it, so she was Nana until the day she left our employ. Little did I know she was a big tattletale about my nocturnal activities.”

“Siobhan,” Mrs. Edgewood supplied easily. “I could say it fine, but forget spelling it. Oh, she was a dear thing. We tag-teamed everything, from scraped knees to driving you to and from St. Mark's. His school,” she explained to Alex.

Fascinated, Alex watched the exchange between Phillip and his mom. They had a bond that reminded her of the closeness she shared with her own mother, but different. Sure, Alex loved her mom, but their relationship had a lot of other things bound up in it: guilt and shame for the things she'd put her mother through. A sense of obligation. Her mother didn't have anyone else, had never remarried or even dated much after Alex's father left, so Alex was all she had.

And her mother had been instrumental in pulling Alex from the pit of self-destruction. She'd probably be dead or in jail right now without her mother. It made sense that Alex would remain mindful of the debt she owed.

The interaction between Phillip and his mother was totally different. They loved each other for no other reason than by virtue of being family. Not due to any rules or obligation. Just because. You could see it in their expressions, in the relaxed way they were with each other, in the tones of their voices.

Love didn't look like that in Alex's world. Never had. Her own father had left their family without a backward glance. So was it any wonder she'd never believed love existed?

Or had that belief been something she'd invented to avoid the question of
why
no one loved her like that?

“Alex, when you're ready to hire a nanny, if you want my help interviewing you just let me know.” Mrs. Edgewood patted Alex's arm to punctuate that statement.

Stunned, Alex stared at Phillip's mother. Nanny? She hadn't even thought that far ahead, but of course she would need one. It wasn't like she could work sixty or seventy hours a week and raise two babies, especially not with a husband who commuted back and forth to Washington.

“That's very kind, Mrs. Edgewood.”

“Oh, please don't call me Mrs. Edgewood. That just aged me twenty years. And I didn't need any help getting older.” She shook her head with a laugh. “I'm Connie and we're family.”

Tears pricked at Alex's eyes. Stupid pregnancy hormones. Why would Mrs. Edgewood say something like that? Alex wasn't family, not really. Not the kind she'd meant, like someone you loved for no reason other than because you wanted to. Her son certainly didn't.

But obviously he had the capacity for it. He'd loved Gina. Was there something fundamentally wrong with Alex that caused people to shy away from loving her?

A tear worked loose and slid down her face. Mortified, she swiped at it and then shrugged. It wasn't like she could hide it from the woman watching her so closely. “Thank you, Connie. I think that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a long time.”

“Then you're hanging out with the wrong people.” Glaring at her son with pointed barbs as if to include him in the category of
wrong people
, Connie smoothed a hand over Alex's shoulder. “You're the only daughter I've got. Let's make it count.”

Oh, wow. That had not been anything like the reception she'd been braced for. There was an authenticity implied in the woman's statement that Alex craved all at once. Her relationship with Phillip might not be based on love but the one with Connie could be. There were no rules about that. If she wanted advice about hiring a nanny, who better to ask than a woman who'd married a politician, the same as Alex had?

They could be friends in an otherwise confusing Edgewood world. Somehow, the simple sentiment of being labeled Connie's daughter enclosed Alex in a big bubble of belonging, and now that she was inside it, she couldn't stand for it to burst.

“Okay.” Alex nodded and another tear splashed to her lap. When had she started wanting so much more than rules to live by? Rules were the only thing that made sense and never changed. They kept you safe and free from consequences.

When had she started wanting to be loved?

Phillip's arm came around Alex and he pulled her close in wordless comfort. His touch warmed her, and it had nothing to do with sex. The moment swelled through her, fueled by the emotions already in play.

“You should be saying nice things to your wife all the time,” his mother scolded. “Alex is the mother of your children. That automatically makes her worthy of being showered with all sorts of pretty words.”

“I agree,” Phillip said wryly. “But none of the stuff I'd like to say is fit for mixed company.”

“Well, then, I'll leave you to your pillow talk.” His mother didn't even blush, a trick Alex would like to learn because
her
cheeks had certainly prickled with heat at the blatant sexual innuendo. Connie stood and smiled at Alex. “Thank you for bringing light back into my son's life. His father and I worried he'd never get to this point after Gina passed. You're more of a blessing than you could ever know.”

Connie sailed out of the gazebo, leaving Alex in a big puddle of confusion about what had just happened. Had she done that—brought some cheer into the life of a widower? Somehow she hadn't thought of him as grieving. And as revelations went, it was rather huge.