Fresh: A BWWM Secret Billionaire Romance (8 page)

W
hen the jet
came to pick me up the next morning, I was over my little pity party.

"Hello, Captain Harris."

"Hello, Miss Amelia. Enjoy your stay here in the heartland?"

I put a little smile on. "Yes, of course." He knew that something was pushing me back home early, and it wasn't deep enjoyment of my vacation. But he didn't call me out on it, and I wasn't going to say anything. Captain Harris wasn’t one for a lot of conversation.

I buckled in. I watched as Madison fell away under us. The flight home was quiet. I had nobody to talk to. It was just me, alone. I thought that I had made the right decision, but all of the regret twisting in my lower gut made me wonder…Had I really done the right thing?

Captain Harris landed at Ronald Reagan, and I didn't have to take my own suitcases. He helped me get them out of the aircraft, and I got into my own limo to go to my own house.

I called a real estate agent, and I had her find me an apartment to rent that was already available. It was nearby. I called a moving company, and they promised me express service. A truck would be there that night. I doubled their normal fee for them to work during non-business hours. I packed up my room when I got home. After a few minutes of hunting. I found a bunch of collapsible boxes in a closet downstairs. I did not enlist the housekeeper's help. I just packed everything up on my own.

I got a phone call around mid-afternoon from one of the schools where I had applied to work. After a quick phone interview, they promised to check my references. I would start next week, working part-time at first with the option of moving to a full-time position at one point.

When Dad got home from work, he saw me sitting in a huge pile of white boxes near the entrance as well as some of my furniture.

"What's going on, Meli? Are you donating a bunch of stuff to GoodWill or something?"

"No, Daddy." I took a deep breath. "I'm going to move out."

His jaw dropped. "What?"

"I'm a grown woman, Dad. You knew that you would lose your little girl eventually. You wanted me to get married. It's not like I would have stayed with you after that."

He rubbed his chin. "I didn't think of that."

I shook my head. "It's time for me to get out of the nest. I am old enough to be on my own."

"I might not fund it, you know, if you're an independent woman."

My expression did not even flicker. "Daddy, I have my own savings. I am going to get a job at a school teaching Spanish or something. I do have a degree. I don't really use it, but it’s high time for me to try something new.”

"You don't have to do this. You can live with me."

"Daddy, it's time for me to move out and be on my own. You know that Mommy would not have wanted me to stay forever. I have to become my own person, you know. I can't stay a little girl forever."

He cleared his throat and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes. I hugged him. "Oh, Daddy. I promise to come home for Sunday lunch, okay? We'll go to church together, just like we always have. It's time for me to find my own way and live in my own apartment. I need to be my own person.“

"Come home whenever you want, baby girl." He was choked up. "I can't believe you're leaving me."

I kissed my dad on the cheek. I heard a horn honking outside.

I
t was the movers
. I opened the door, and the three of us moved all the boxes out. We set up a rotation so that three of us got what we needed, loaded it onto a rolling cart, and got it into the moving van. Dad locked himself up in his office. I knew he had bourbon in there, because I used to sneak it for my friends when we were in high school. The housekeeper always kept it topped up and full. It looked like he would be depleting his supply right about now.

My moving van followed me to my new apartment. I had to type the address into my GPS in order to find it. It wasn't big, and it wasn't much. I had left behind my father's spacious, airy house for this little brown brick building. It looked like it was built during the 1950s, all straight lines, nothing like my own house.

The movers helped me move in the boxes.

"This sure is different, miss. Are you sure you don't want to turn around? There would be no charge. We could just forget that you tried to move out."

I spotted a spider spinning a web in a corner and sighed. I was afraid of spiders, but I guess that I had to deal. ”No. I'm fine here. Thank you two so much for helping me out." I tipped them $100, paid the invoice with a check, and sent them on their way.

I had only brought the things that I could handle or carry. That meant that I didn't have a bed. I had a sleeping bag back from when I was in Girl Scouts. I knew that it was a one-size-fits all deal. When I unrolled it, it was musty after years of not being used. I tried to get some of the dust out of it. It was the best that I had for now. I could go shopping for a bed soon, but for tonight this was what I had.

I rolled myself up in my sleeping bag. I missed Jimmy. I missed his big body next to mine. I wished that he and I worked out, that our relationship could have lasted. He could move here.

I thought of the way that he kept farmer's hours, and I thought of the old, lived-in home. I thought about his mother living in Chicago. No. Jimmy would not move here for me, even for love. I would not move to Wisconsin for him, even for love.

I felt like my heart was squished inside of a construction vise. I left part of me in that house in Wisconsin in Jimmy's hands. I wished that I had not had to shut him down, but what other choice did I have? I couldn't live without the things that I needed.

I cried softly, my tears streaming down my cheeks and into my ears, and I eventually fell asleep.

W
hen I woke up
, I felt much better. I stretched a little bit. I was stiff from sleeping on the wooden floor. I was glad that I was in an apartment, because the floor was heated by the people downstairs. I saw my thermostat, but I did not know how to use it. That would wait for later today. I went to my shower with my box in hand, and I took a long shower. After standing under the warm spray, I felt better. Clean. Fresh. Renewed. I could do this.

I popped and looked at my bank account. Daddy hadn't cut me off. I was still good to go.

I went shopping, but this time it wasn't for couture clothes. I put together the things that I needed for a household. Instead of buying a big bed that needed to be put together, I bought a queen-sized bed made out of foam. I had a little bed stand that didn't require a box spring. That would be much more comfortable than the decayed relic of a sleeping bag that I had used last night. I knew that I could turn my tiny apartment into a little home. I transferred half of my trust fund account into my personal account. Yeah, there might be some ramifications, but the money there could keep me afloat without a job for at least a year. The job money would be a side bonus.

I bought a bunch of groceries to go home. I didn't really know how to cook. When I went home and looked up cooking classes in my area, it was all for people who wanted to learn how to cook Cordon Bleu kind of dishes. Instead, I ordered Mark Bittman's How to Cook Everything off of Amazon in the Kindle format. I knew enough to cook my own pasta, and I poured some microwaved spaghetti sauce on top of it. There. I had cooked for myself.

I texted my dad goodnight, and I fell asleep.

I dreamed about Jimmy and the day that we played with snow. I was cold in the dream, but I was happy. We lay down in the snow together, making snow angels. He kissed me, as he had in real life, but this time he didn't stop. We got our lower halves naked, and I didn't mind the cold press of the snow around my body when his hot body was on top of mine. The snow melted to cold water around us as we made passionate love with him on top and still encased in our snow clothes.

I woke up with my arm wrapped around myself, as if I had been hugged in my sleep. I let some tears fall, and then I made myself stop. There was no use in beating myself up over what might have been. If I wanted to be a grown woman, I could sure act like one.

I made a plan to go out with my friend Amanda that night. Maybe a little fun was in order.

L
ike every night
of the last two months, I got dressed in one of my scandalous dresses, the kind that I would wear a trench coat over if I were still living at home. It was very expensive. My seamstress had told me that it was so expensive because getting the fabric to hold together when there was so little of it was more challenging than putting together a sturdy dress that had lots of cloth.

I went out with my friend Amanda, the wildest one of us. Miraculously, despite the booze and late nights, she was a glowingly gorgeous girl who attracted boys like a flower attracted bees. Our friends called her Bacon, because boys acted as if she smelled like bacon.

We went out, but somehow the dim, smoky club and the fruity drinks and the crowded seats didn't feel the same as before. I looked around at all of these people. They could have been from another planet. I had been one of them not too long ago.

Wisconsin had changed me, more than I had realized. Instead of enjoying the partying and the money thrown around everywhere, I was mildly disgusted by my own friends. They lived her, spending their parents' money, living it up, getting home after dawn. I wasn't that girl anymore.

I kissed Amanda on the cheek, and I told that I didn't feel good. She told me to text her when I got home, and I nodded. Amanda was a sweetheart, even if I didn't think that I would be coming back to her in these kinds of clubs.

I drove home and parked, and I texted Amanda. I hadn't drunk enough to be very inebriated, really. Just enough to have a whiff of alcohol about me. I rummaged around in my purse for my key.

When I got to my door, Jimmy was standing there.

M
y purse fell
to the floor, landing with a thud. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

I looked at him. My first impression was that he was a sight for sore eyes. He was much paler than he had been, and he wasn't smiling, but something inside of me twisted and was happy to see him.

Then I looked more closely at his clothes.

"Why do you have Savile Row tailoring? That suit is custom made." I could tell from the way the cloth sat around his powerful shoulders. Bespoke suits were expensive.

"Can I come in?" He dodged the question neatly. "It's been a long day."

I looked at my phone. It was after 11 PM. "Yeah, of course." I picked up my purse and unlocked my door. "Come on in."

A little bit of shame burned in my cheeks when I looked through my apartment through his eyes. There were piles of boxes, since I had not really unpacked yet. I was living out of a suitcase. I had not picked up a dresser yet, just my little bed. I was eating standing over the kitchen sink when I did eat. It wasn't ready yet, but I knew that I would make my apartment more welcoming.

I bristled a little bit. How could he ask to come inside when I was nowhere near ready?

I had let my apartment stay like this for the past two months. It was my own fault that it was so bare. It didn't feel like a home. It was just a place to keep my stuff.

"Can I get you some water? I don't really have anything else."

"Water is fine."

I got out one of my disposable clear cups, and I got him some water. He leaned against my granite counter.

"What are you doing here?" I tried not to notice the beautiful, clean lines of his body. He was hot naked. He was hot in flannel. But Jimmy Fox dressed in a suit and tie made my panties melt.

"I wanted to see you." There were dark shadows under his eyes. He stopped. "I missed you." He acted like he didn't want to. He looked like he wasn't that glad to see me.

"I missed you, too." I looked into his eyes. "Do you want to move here? I know that my apartment doesn't look like very much, but maybe we could make it work."

"No, I'm not moving here."

"I can clean it up. I mean, I just need to move around some stuff and..."

"No." Jimmy took a sip of water. "I meant it when I asked you to marry me. I came here to talk to your dad today."

My back stiffened up. This was the reason why my dad had thrown me at him. "Oh?"

"We met with his board of directors. I'm all set to take over his position. I just need to take the reins from him. He'll help me transition, then he'll retire for a while. He'll still be the chairman of the board, but his chemo won't get in the way of the business."

I felt empty inside. "Good." I couldn't care less about Dad's business. "Well, if that's all..." I brushed past him to open the door. "You can leave, then."

He put his cup of water down. "You know that is not the only reason why I came."

I glared at him, as much as I could, which, given the circumstances, was with the heat of a candle flame, not a roaring fire. "Yeah?" I quashed the little flame of hope inside of my body.

"I want to marry you."

There it was again. I felt my eyes burn with tears. All there was to me was my dad's desire to see me married to this gigantic, handsome, good-smelling man. What I wanted wasn't part of it. I'd spent half days at the school helping the English Language Learner kids. I'd gotten more and more patient. I had my own job.

"We've already..." I put a hand over my mouth. I ran for the bathroom.

Jimmy followed me in as I worshipped the porcelain god.

"Are you sick?"

I felt my eyes get moist from the humiliating experience of having him come back to me, only for him to propose to me for the sake of my father's business. "None of your business."

I stood up and rinsed my mouth out with water from the sink. I swished around a little mouthwash. I hated being vulnerable in front of him. I saw his eyes drift down to my exposed skin, the swell of my hips, and I wished that I could cover up. Too much of me was showing, and it wasn't really about the skin.

"I think that you're pregnant."

My eyes snapped up to his face. "Are you calling me fat?"

"No. I like your body. I can also tell that you've gained a little. It looks good on you."

"You are calling me fat. Get out." I tugged on his arm, pulling him towards the door.

"No." His hand came out and touched my stomach, probing it a little bit. "Can you feel it? If you had gained wait, it would be on your lower stomach. This is a little higher."

"What are you like an OBGYN now?"

"No, but I know my way around a barn. I know what pregnancy looks like. Cows don't throw up when they are pregnant, but human women do."

"Don't you think that I would know if I were pregnant?" I touched my stomach. Did it really feel like it was a little firmer up above?

I felt nauseous again. "I've drunk alcohol.”

"We need to talk to a doctor."

I locked up my apartment, and I walked down with him. 

"Ok Google, search for the nearest urgent care facility."

His phone got us to the nearest urgent care center. They took us right away, especially after he flashed his credit card. I was rummaging around in my purse for mints. My mouth still felt kind of gross. 

I sat in the exam room, and I answered the nurse's intrusive questions about my habits. I changed into a paper gown. The doctor came in. She was a woman.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I threw up, and Dopey here thought that I needed to come in."

"She's pregnant."

The doctor motioned for me to lay on the bed in the room. "Could you get up here, please?" I went to the bed, and she lifted my gown to put cold gel on my stomach.

"I used to be an OBGYN."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Lot of random hours. Working late doesn't come into it. Babies come whenever they want to come."

She got out an ultrasound machine, and she put it on my stomach. On the screen, we could see my insides in black and white.

"Congratulations. You're having a baby."

Shock ripped through my body. I was glad that I was already laying down.

"A baby?" It had been a possibility before, but this was reality right here, right now. "But I'm on birth control. Or I was."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "If you don't take your pill regularly, you can get pregnant. Surely you know that."

I flushed a little bit. "How far am I along?"

"About two months."

It had to have happened when I was in Wisconsin. I was scared. "I've been drinking a lot. Do you think it's hurt the baby?"

"How much is a lot?"

"Every night."

"Yeah, that could hurt the baby."

"I don't drink that much. It's just often, I guess. I share my drinks with Amanda. The point of going out isn't to get drunk. It's more to have fun."

"All of the studies about fetal alcohol syndrome were done with mothers who were bona fide alcoholics. Yes, alcohol can potentially harm a baby, but a few sips won't hurt the baby. If anything hurts the baby, you would have already had a miscarriage in your first trimester. Is this your first pregnancy?"

I touched my stomach, still covered in gel. "Yes."

"You need to be aware of the high probability of miscarriage here." I cradled my minuscule bump. 

"No."

"Yes. You could lose this baby. Expecting mothers need to be careful."

"I will be." I didn't want to do anything that would hurt my little one.

"Is he the father?"

Before I could answer, Jimmy blurted, "Yes, I am."

I glared at him. "It's complicated."

"Complicated, as in your relationship with this man is complicated, or complicated, as in you don't know who the father is?”

I closed my eyes and breathed in a deep breath. "I know who the father is. It's him."

"Okay, then it's the first option. Here is the phone number of my old practice. They are booked a month in advance, but tell them that Dr. Hawker sent you, and they will find a way to squeeze you in." She gave me a piece of paper, and Jimmy snatched it out of my fingers to tuck away in a pocket. "You should have someone look at you soon. I'm just an urgent care doctor. Someone with the right equipment is going to be able to help you more."

Jimmy paid as we walked out, and I went and sat in the car with my mind absolutely dazed by the idea that I was going to be a mother.