Working It (31 page)

24

Ben

I opened the door to my hotel room to find a tear-streaked and sobbing Fiona.

“What happened? What’s wrong?” I guided her inside and closed the door. She crashed against my chest, burying her face in my shirt as she cried. I brought an arm around her, doing my best to comfort her.

“I had my last insemination today.” She sucked in a breath to steady herself, her eyes gazing down at the floor. “They won’t do any more on me because it’s not safe to be on those drugs for longer than twelve cycles. That was my thirteenth. I had to beg them,” she said, her voice just a small rasp.

I’d never seen her so down. “So there’s still a chance, right?”

“No. I just know this isn’t going to work. Why would it? The other twelve didn’t. Maybe God or whoever’s up there”—she looked up at the ceiling—“doesn’t want me to be a mother.”

I remained silent, unsure of how to comfort her. I was completely out of my element.

“And even if I could find a new doctor to convince to work with me and take another round of treatment, we’ll be leaving in a few weeks and you’ll be back in New York, busy with your new girlfriend, too busy to help me with my injections.”

“Hey.” I reached out for her hand. “I’ll never be too busy for you.”

She laced our fingers together. “I know. You’re too good to me.”

Unsure of what else to do, I pulled her to my chest for a hug, and Fiona nestled against my neck. After a few moments, the sobs racking her chest had quieted and her hands slid down my sides to cup my ass.

I stepped back. “Fiona,” I pleaded, my tone a weak excuse for a warning. It would be so easy to slip back into our old roles, to fall into bed together, to comfort her that way. But I realized that it never made me happy. I never could sleep for shit the times we did share a bed. That was reserved just for Emmy.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks and blinked up at me. Fiona was a beautiful woman—even with her tears. But I couldn’t do this.

“Ben . . .” She didn’t say anything else, just continued pleading with me with those intense brown eyes.

“If I could fix this, Fiona, I would. You know that.”

Recognition seemed to click for us both at the same time as our gazes snapped together and she took a step closer. “Ben, you could fix this. You could give me a baby. The most beautiful little baby.”

“Fiona . . .” I shook my head.

“Ben . . . no one has to know . . . Emmy doesn’t have to find out. . . .”

I released a frustrated sigh. Fiona had worked hard to build my career, to make me wealthy and successful over the past five years. She’d worked nonstop for me, forgone dating and relationships . . . and I couldn’t help but wonder if she hadn’t been working so hard for me, perhaps she would have settled down into marriage and kids by now.

I led her over to the bed and we each sat on the edge. I hated the hopeful look in her eyes. Growing up without my own father made me damn sure that when I did have kids someday, I wanted to raise them.

“No one will ever know,” she whispered softly.

I gave her hand a squeeze. “I’ll run you a bath. Do you want to stay here with me tonight? Watch movies? Order room service?”

She smiled weakly. “Thanks, dear. That’s brilliant. Exactly what I need.”

“No problem.” I rose from the bed, leaving her to run a bubble bath in the big Jacuzzi tub. I needed to call Emmy but settled for sending her a quick text while the tub filled.

Me: Something came up tonight. Too busy to talk. Miss you.

25

Emmy

I didn’t like going even one day without talking to Ben. So even though his text said he’d be busy, I couldn’t resist calling him a few hours later. Of course, as soon as I dialed, I wished I hadn’t.

Fiona answered his phone.

But worse than that, she said he was sleeping and she didn’t want to wake him. Then she promptly hung up on me.

I felt like murdering someone after that. I settled instead for a five-mile jog, a steaming hot shower, and then went about my day. He’d certainly have a lot to explain when he called.

• • •

The shrill tone of my cell phone woke me in the night. I fumbled to find the phone and quickly answered it to stop the ringing.

“Hello?” I croaked, my voice rough from sleep.

“Emmy, baby . . .”

“Ben?”

“I’m sorry baby. I’m sorry for everything.”

“Ben, what’s wrong?”

His long pause reminded me just how far apart we were. “I needed to hear your voice.”

His tone was somber, sad. Something was wrong. “You don’t sound well. What time is it there?”

“Six in the morning.”

He was either up early or really late from the night before. “Did you sleep okay? Why did Fiona answer your phone last night?” The memory came rushing back with resounding clarity.

“She did?”

“Yeah. She said you were asleep.”

“I must have had too much to drink and passed out. I’m sorry.”

“Ben, did something happen with Fiona?” I couldn’t shake the unmistakable feeling of panic creeping into the edges of my brain.

“You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

I swallowed the thick lump in my throat. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I wouldn’t, baby. I promise. Just trust me, okay?”

I didn’t answer, my mind abuzz with questions. There was something he wasn’t telling me but I wasn’t brave enough to ask just then.

“Okay?” he asked again.

“Yeah, Ben. I trust you. I just don’t trust Fiona.”

“I can handle Fiona. Just don’t worry, okay?”

“I miss you,” I admitted, my voice a tiny whisper.

“I miss you more. Not long now and then I’ll be home.”

I could not freakin’ wait. I hated the feeling that Fiona thought Ben and I were getting too close and had purposely created this distance between us.

26

The day Ben was due home, work dragged by at a horrible pace. I tried to focus, I did my best, but my gaze constantly wandered to the clock. Ben’s flight was due in later that morning and he’d promised to come straight into the office to see me. We were going to lunch. Unless I could talk him into taking me straight home for a midday romp between the sheets. Eating was overrated. And I’d missed him terribly.

At ten o’clock, Gunnar stopped by my desk. “Come on. Fiona wants everyone gathered in the conference room to make some big announcement.”

I looked at him curiously. Maybe she was announcing my promotion. I rose from my desk and stood a little taller in my heels. I’d done well in Paris, and I put up with all her diva demands with a smile on my face. It was paying off. “What do you think it could be? Heard any rumors?” I asked as we ventured down the hall.

Gunnar nodded, a sly smile overtaking his mouth. “Yeah. Rumor has it she’s finally pregnant.”

What?
“Fiona? Pregnant?” I couldn’t picture her as a mother. Not at all.

Gunnar’s brows pinched together. “I thought you knew Ben was helping her—giving her those fertility injections, taking her to her doctor appointments.”

Holy Mother.
All the air was sucked from my lungs but I managed to draw a small, shaky breath. “He never told me.” My voice was a harsh rasp.

“Her meds were flown in from the U.S., delivered on ice, and had to be refrigerated. I thought for sure you were coordinating all that.”

I shook my head. “No.” They’d kept it all some big, elaborate secret. I was beyond hurt. He may have said he didn’t have feelings for her, but by spending his time caring for her, his actions painted a different story.

Something about the entire situation made my scalp tingle.

Gunnar and I stood at the far end of the narrow conference room while everyone filed in. The large table in the center sat empty as everyone gathered around. It would be standing room only—and a tight squeeze. This must be some big announcement.

Fiona appeared a moment later with Ben beside her. I wanted to run to him, throw myself in his arms, but the crowded room prohibited that. He met my eyes and I sucked in a breath. He looked terrible. Tired and upset about something. Like he’d just gotten some horrible news. I’d wanted nothing more than to see him for the past three weeks, but suddenly I felt unsure. Unsure about where we stood, unsure about his distant calls these past couple of weeks. Had he changed his mind about me? About wanting a relationship?

In contrast, Fiona stood next to him looking bright eyed and bushy tailed. Whatever had been ailing her in Paris had obviously cleared up. She looked well. Happy. Happier than I’d seen her in a long time. I wondered if what Gunnar had said could be true. . . .

Before I could process all of the tangled emotions overtaking my system, Fiona cleared her throat to speak.

A hushed silence fell over the room.

“Thank you all for your work while we were away. Our lovely boy Ben killed it as usual.” She smiled fondly at him. “But the reason I wanted to assemble the group today is to share some very exciting news.” When she smiled at Ben again I was struck with an overwhelming urge to hit her in the face. With a chair. “I’m expecting a baby.”

My stomach twisted violently, turning sour as my breakfast threatened to make an appearance. If Gunnar had been right about this . . . was he also correct about Ben taking an active role? I was already uncomfortable with their relationship, but being lied to for months on end . . . I felt sick.

“Who’s the father?” someone asked from behind me.

A slow smile curled on Fiona’s mouth and her eyes met Ben’s. “Someone ever so dear to me.”

Holy shit.

She and Ben shared a look that communicated so much. They were carrying on a private conversation without exchanging a single word. It was unnerving, and even more so because I had no idea what was being said.

I elbowed my way through the crowded room and headed straight for the women’s restroom.

Tears blurred my eyes as I locked the door on the handicapped stall and slid to the floor. It was disgusting to sit on a public bathroom floor, but I had little choice. My legs weren’t working at the moment.

The entrance door flew open. “Emmy, we need to talk.” It was Ben.

Ten minutes ago I’d been so desperate to see him, to feel his arms around me. And now I felt completely devastated and unsure about everything.

I didn’t want to face him, didn’t want him to see me cry. But I needed some answers. There were signs all along. Signs I ignored. The phone calls he wouldn’t take in my presence. I wondered if they were from Fiona. That time she was in his room and he wouldn’t let me in . . . all those nights he’d been short with me on the phone when he was alone with her in Paris . . .

Still hiding in the end stall, I cleared my throat, fighting to keep the tears at bay. “Gunnar told me you’d been helping her. You lied to me.”

“I’m sorry about that, baby. So sorry. When Fiona came to me and told me about her fertility struggles she asked me not to say anything to anyone. I gave her the injections, but I swear it was harmless.”

“Ben . . . are you the father?”

He didn’t answer for several of the longest moments of my life. Eventually he slid down the wall, sinking to the floor until he was sitting across from me. I could see his feet from my view underneath the door. “Will you come out so I can talk to you?”

That was not the answer I needed. My heart thumped erratically in my chest. “Do you really think that’ll make this easier?”

He sighed deeply. “I suppose not.”

Several long seconds ticked past before I spoke again. “Tell me, Ben. The truth.” I deserved that much at least, but I held my breath, unsure if I would be able to handle his answer. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, wondering where this story was going and if it could possibly have a happy ending for me and Ben. Maybe I was being foolish hiding from him in a bathroom stall.

“Shortly after you left Paris, Fiona was devastated about the artificial inseminations not working. She’d had many rounds, and none of them took. She asked me to sleep with her.”

A tortured cry escaped my throat and I clasped a hand over my mouth to silence it.

“She was a wreck emotionally, so I told her she could spend the night in my room. I didn’t think she should be alone just then. But that’s all I was planning on—sleeping. I ordered us dinner and we watched TV and shared a few bottles of wine. I drank too much and passed out. Sometime later, I woke in the middle of the night with Fiona on top of me. She had . . . she was . . .” He hesitated. “She was riding me.”

I didn’t try to stop the cry that escaped my throat. I hung my head and wept, gulping for air. “That’s rape, Ben. You can press charges.”

“I’m not pressing charges. I invited her into my bed. We were both drunk. She was severely depressed. . . .”

I didn’t know what there was to think about. Whether they were drunk or not, that was
not
okay. I hated Fiona. She could burn in hell for all I cared. “She took advantage of you . . .” She should be punished for that.

“Emmy . . . she and I used to be lovers. That type of thing was normal—her waking me up that way. . . .”

Gross.

Oh my God . . . that could be Ben’s baby inside of her. Silent tears streamed down my cheeks. Panic gripped my heart. I wished I could plug my ears, pretend none of this was happening. Instead, I gripped my chest, pressing my palm against my heart, begging it not to falter. It thumped unevenly as pain surged inside my chest. I swear I felt the exact moment my heart broke, shattering inside me with a sharp, distinct pain.

Ben continued, “I threw her off me and cursed her out. But I’m not pressing criminal charges. She apologized and said she wasn’t thinking clearly . . . she was crazy from the wine and fertility drugs . . . and she’s been my friend for a long time, Emmy. I can’t do that to her.”

The weight of the knowledge that he didn’t want to see her punished was crushing.

“So, you’re going to be a dad.”

“Maybe. Or a sperm donor. She says I can be as involved as I want to be,” Ben added.

Holy shit. I couldn’t bear the thought that he’d be forever tied to Fiona. Hell, maybe they’d even give a real relationship a go. For the baby’s sake. I fought off a wave of nausea and suppressed a groan with my fingers pressed over my lips.