MATCHMAKER (A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (14 page)

Sure enough, as they watched, he pulled out a ring box, withdrew a gold band with a tiny diamond chip, and dropped it into the woman’s champagne glass.

“Whenever I see that, I worry that someone is going to choke.”

Jenna frowned. “I hope not. What a way to kill the evening. Here she comes!”

The woman returned from the bathroom. Sterling was so glad he’d changed his plans. He’d hired a string trio to play for her, and he was pretty sure the ring for Jenna cost more than the guy at the table next to him would make in a year. Maybe two. It would have completely upstaged this couple’s special day.

Without noticing the ring, the woman reached for her champagne and took a drink. She set it down, still not seeing what was in the bottom of the glass.

Jenna reached out and took Sterling’s hand. He took it, feeling like the cheat and traitor he was. He found himself feeling wholly invested in this other couple’s future, in seeing when she would find the ring and what her reaction would be. He wondered how the man would take it if she didn’t immediately fling her arms around him and say yes.

“I hope she doesn’t choke on it,” Sterling whispered.

Jenna swatted at him. “You’re awful.”

He was awful, just not for the reasons Jenna was thinking.

The woman took another drink of champagne, and Sterling could practically see the man coming up out of his seat in anticipation. She sipped, felt something hit her lip, then looked down.

Scrutinizing her face, Sterling watched a fleeting moment of panic wash over her. Was she going to turn him down right here in front of everyone?

A string quartet came out, and to Sterling’s horror they came to his table, crowded around Jenna, and began to play the love song from
Lady and the Tramp
, which Sterling specifically requested for Jenna. Though she didn’t seem to care for real dogs, she loved that movie.

Jenna lifted her gaze to him, expectant and delighted. He shook his head, pointed at the couple the next table over. Now it was the other man’s turn to look baffled. Sterling shrugged.

“I love that song,” Jenna said. “For a second I thought you’d—”

“Nah,” Sterling said. “I’m not one for big, ostentatious public displays.”

“Says the man with the Bugatti.”

“I don’t drive it much.”

Jenna cast a wistful look over at the other couple, the woman beaming at her thoughtful fiancée and wearing her new ring. He seemed confused but very happy.

“She’s going to remember this Valentine’s Day for the rest of her life,” Jenna said.

Sterling would, too. Today was the day he’d learned he was going to be a father.

CHERISE

Sterling texted at eight the next morning, telling her he’d gotten her in that afternoon with Woodraw obstetricians, easily the most prestigious and expensive doctor in the city for all things baby.

Do you want me to go with you?

No, thank you.

You sure?

Positive. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Please do.

She shut her phone off then. Whatever else he had to say, she didn’t want to know. She wondered what he and Jenna had done. Her own night had been spent with crappy romantic comedies, all of which alternately wanted to make her sob or murder someone. She didn’t even like romantic comedies. She should have been watching horror movies, but she felt like she needed to punish herself. It worked, and the morning found her miserable. It took three tries to find someone to cover her Starbucks shift, but finally, she was on her way to the classy uptown clinic.

Sitting in the waiting room, she felt like all the other mothers-to-be. When she worked at Starbucks, she felt like she couldn’t wear any of the clothes she’d bought while working for Sterling. Here, she dressed as though she were headed to his office in an expensive business casual. She couldn’t imagine how she’d feel here in her old clothes. She hated that she’d seen this other life and hated that she liked it.

She’d spent the night before rolling over the idea of giving the baby up for adoption. They did lots of screenings for prospective parents, so the baby was guaranteed to go to a good home. She hoped it took after Sterling or it would be one more little black baby with no father whose mother couldn’t take care of it.

She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t hear her name when they called for her. The nurse had to call her a second time, and Cherise snapped her head up and headed into the office.

The doctor talked to her, did a blood test, and told her he’d be in touch within the next two weeks. Now she had to wait. He told her not to do anything differently other than to cut out any alcohol or drugs. She could do that. She could wait.

Outside the clinic, she debated texting Sterling but figured she’d just wait until the news came. No need to talk to him or to rile him up unnecessarily.

Eleven days later, the call came while she worked her shift at Starbucks. She almost didn’t answer it but glanced at the screen in her pocket because she had a feeling.

“I’m so sorry, I have to take this!”

“Cherise—” Monica was new and didn’t know what she was doing.

Cherise didn’t care and ducked into the back room. “Hello?”

“Ms. Meyer?”

“Yes, this is she.”

“I’m very sorry. I have some bad news.”

Shit. Cherise gripped the edge of the steel work table.

“Unfortunately, it looks like the test you took from the drugstore gave you a false positive.”

“A what?”

“A false positive. They’re very common. I’m sorry, Ms. Meyer. You’re not pregnant.”

Relief gushed through her, making her knees weak. “Thank you,” she said. “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“No. Are you all right? Do you have someone to talk to?”

“I do, thank you.”

She hung up with the nurse and held her phone.

False alarm,
she texted to Sterling. Then she crammed the phone into her pocket and went back to her shift at work.

It was another three weeks before Cherise heard from Sterling again. March. He’d hoped to be married this month.

The wounds he’d left started to scab over, and while everything still reminded her of him, it didn’t send her into crying jags quite so often anymore. She could see the light on the other side and knew she’d be okay. Summer term would start soon, and she could immerse herself in school.

She’d received a letter from the company that held her undergraduate loans, letting her know her balance was zero. Seeing it had taken her breath away, made her mouth go dry. She’d imagined herself living under these loans for decades. She’d already considered herself lucky her great pay gave her a leg up on paying them off.

Cherise had blocked Sterling’s number, and once, he’d come into the Starbucks where she’d worked. She’d manage to slip out back before he saw her. Sterling in a Starbucks—she never thought she’d see the day. He had someone on staff who could make him coffee when he wanted it.

She wondered what he’d think of her, working at a place like this. Well, it was just to pay the bills until she got back in school.

It shouldn’t have surprised her he was able to track down where she was living. Someone like him, she was sure, could find anyone anywhere, but when she got the knock on her door at eleven o’clock on a Tuesday night, she expected anyone but him.

After getting home from work at ten, she’d put on sweatpants and a skimpy tank top, ready for bed. She’d been reading a textbook and going after it with an orange highlighter. Because she was tired, there were orange smudges on her fingers and on the heel of her hand.

Standing out in the hall, Sterling looked like garbage. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his clothes looked rumpled and slept in.

His condition took her aback, and she didn’t know what to say. In her head, if he ever showed up on her doorstep, she would slam the door in his face. In those fantasies, though, he’d always been sharp and put together, looking debonair and handsome. Today, he stood before her, a man in pain.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“She’s dying.”

For a millisecond, she thought he meant Jenna, but then realized it was Ambrosia he spoke of. “I’m so sorry.”

“I have to call the vet to have him come, but I don’t think I can do it. Will you come with me?”

Jenna should be doing this, not Cherise. Cherise knew how Jenna felt about the dog, though. She wasn’t a pet person; she didn’t understand.

“Please,” he said to her silence. “I can’t do this alone.”

Cherise wanted to say no. Maybe this was the chance she could make him hurt the way he’d hurt her. But she thought of the dog’s big brown eyes and huge ears, how sweet the animal was, and how much Sterling loved her.

“Okay. Now?”

He nodded, and his eyes filled with tears. She never thought she’d see the day that Sterling cried. He could love. He did have a heart.

Just not for her.

She was doing this for the dog, not for him. She ducked into her bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed a zip-up sweatshirt, and followed Sterling out to his Hummer. She worried about him, upset and hurling himself around the city in this monstrous car. She got into the passenger seat, listened as the giant engine fired up, and was surprised he drove at a sedate speed. He kept his eyes on the road, his hands at ten and two, with none of the easy energy he usually exuded when they were together.

She tried to think of things to say, but nothing seemed appropriate or worthwhile so she stared at the passing lights of the city.

He pulled into the parking garage of his building and took the spot closest to the elevator. She stood by while he keyed in the code. She noticed it hadn’t changed. He trusted her to get into his home at any time. She hadn’t even wanted him to know where she lived. It wasn’t the same, though. She’d offered her heart to him, and he’d politely sidestepped it.

The elevator climbed to the 99th floor. Nearing the top, Sterling slammed the emergency stop button.

“I can’t do it.”

“You can do it.”

“I can’t go up there. Can’t see her like that. Knowing it’s the end. Jesus, I shouldn’t have even left her for this long. Maybe the vet can fix it.”

Cherise knew how much time and money he’d thrown at the dog. Making her comfortable, helping her try to regain the use of her back legs, fighting age and biology and German shepherd genes the whole time.

“Sterling, she’s tired. You know she’ll fight as long as you ask her to, but she needs to rest.”

“She doesn’t want to eat anymore.”

The statement broke Cherise’s heart. For all her limping around and moving slowly, Ambrosia always attacked her meals with gusto. The idea of the dog not eating sealed, in Cherise’s mind, that it was time to say goodbye.

“I can’t. I really can’t. And I don’t know what the alternative is.”

“Listen to me.” Cherise took his face in her hands. He wouldn’t make eye contact. She couldn’t handle seeing his eyes red with tears like this, threatening to spill over. “You’re her whole world. She trusts you to make this decision for you.”

“I can’t kill her.”

Cherise let out a long breath. “You’re not killing her. Age is killing her. We all grow old, and we all die. Think of the life you’ve given her. Can you imagine any dog who’s been as loved as she is?”

Now he met her gaze. “No.”

“Then call her vet, and make it so her life is good all the way to the end.”

“She can’t even get out to go to the bathroom. She can’t walk. At night, she cries.”

Cherise knew full well it was much easier to stand in her shoes and tell someone it was time to put his dog to sleep. It sounded like Ambrosia’s time had come days ago, but hearing that wouldn’t help Sterling.

“Let’s go see her.” Cherise reached for the emergency stop button. She waited for Sterling to nod before she pushed it.

When the elevator doors slid open to Sterling’s apartment, a sense of wrongness overcame Cherise that Ambrosia didn’t come to greet them. She lay on the couch, but still managed to perk up at the sight of her master.

Sterling fell to his knees on the floor beside her and took her in his arms. Ambrosia, like most German shepherds, was a clingy dog who liked to be by her master. Not being able to follow him around must have been agonizing to her.

Cherise gave her head a gentle pat, then went to the window while Sterling sobbed into the dog’s fur.

Where was Jenna? She should be here. Not for the dog, but for the man.

Cherise felt hot tears in her eyes and a burning at the back of her throat as she thought about the dog’s demise.

She went back to check on them, and started to cry when Ambrosia licked her hand. Sterling thrust his phone at her. “I need you to do it.”

She didn’t argue. The number was in there under vet, and Cherise did her best to adopt her rusty personal assistant persona, saying she was calling on behalf of Sterling Waters.

The woman on the other end cut her off. “Does he want me to come?”