A Baby for My Billionaire Stepbrother 5 (6 page)

Anne was right. A lie of omission was still a lie, and it was bound to break up a relationship.

“I'm just... shy is all. Plus, I'm just so comfy here in bed.” I tried to sound seductive, but it sounded lame even to me.

“That's alright. I just want to take a look at all your naked selfies, and you can check out my phone whenever you want later if you don't want to do it now.”

So he was going to go straight to my pictures. I clutched my phone even tighter to my chest. “Could I delete the unattractive ones, then? I feel fat.”

James scoffed. “Allie, you weigh a buck twenty if that. Plus, I think I've proven that I find you pretty sexy no matter what you look like at this point.” He looked me up and down and his smile disappeared. “Let me see your phone.”

It was a command. His tone wasn't confrontational, but I knew he was serious. The picture was still there, waiting for him to look at. I had to try one last time. “One picture. Let me delete one picture and I'll hand it over.”

James' was super serious by now. “I can't believe this. I thought I was the one who had to prove that I wasn't a liar, but it turns out that you've had something to hide this entire time.” He pulled his hand back that had his phone in it. “I can't do this.”

Did I hear him right? “What?”

“I said, I can't do this. If you're going to complain to me about my imaginary girlfriends, yet won't accept a complete exchange of information, then it's hopeless. Either you can never trust me when we're apart, or you want complete access to my personal life without granting me the same in return. I guarantee I have a lot more to hide about my business than you have in that little phone of yours.”

I looked down, unable to look at him in the eye. I should just give him the phone now, let him see what I tried to hide. But somehow, I couldn't. My hand wouldn't release the death grip I had on the phone.

“I'm sorry, James,” was all I could say.

He scoffed. “Pack up your stuff, Allie. I was ready to give you everything, but if you can't even give me your phone, then this is over.”

I felt tears start to well in my eyes. This was the second time I was being thrown out of James' apartment, out of his life. The first time hadn't been my fault, and had been done reluctantly. This time, however, there was no one to blame but myself. Once I walked out that door, I was done. James wouldn't follow me to New York this time.

I thought one last time about handing the phone over to him, but I couldn't bring myself to. I just couldn't.

Without a word, I nodded my head. He stared at me for a moment, as if shocked that this was happening. With a shake, he stormed out of the room, closing himself in his studio. In a few moments I heard him playing his guitar. It was chaotic and violent, even more so than when I had walked in earlier today.

I turned on my phone and the picture popped up, mocking me. I could delete it now and give the phone to him, but I knew the damage was done. He would never trust me after this. Our bond that we had formed was shattered forever.

I walked around the apartment, gathering up the clothes that I had left scattered around the house. Most were in the guest room, but there were items hiding in several other rooms. I knew that I had left some clothes in the studio, but I was too sick to my stomach to try and get them. I put on another pair of jeans and a sweater that I brought instead. I felt numb the entire time that I packed up, tears occasionally dropping from my eyes but not really crying.

When I finished, I went to knock on the studio door to see what I should do about a ride to the airport. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw James' limo driver standing in the doorway.

“Have you finished packing?” he asked.

“Oh, um... Yes, but I have to get something out of the studio.”

“I apologize, but Mr. Coleman does not wish to see you. Anything that you've left in there will be sent to you by mail.” He said it with absolutely no emotion in his voice. I wondered what James had told him. I wondered how often he had to kick girls out of James' apartment.

“Oh. Of course.”

There was a pause. “So are you finished packing?” he repeated. I nodded without saying a word. “I will drive you to the airport. Waiting at the ticket counter is a plane ticket back to New York. In addition, Mr. Coleman has instructed me to provide you with anything additional that you need in order to expedite your return and make you comfortable.”

Cash and a plane ticket home. The same thing that he offered me the last time he kicked me out. I had at first refused it, then grudgingly accepted it. I was mad at him last time, but this time I was only mad at myself. I nodded my head and grabbed my luggage and purse. He handed me $200 and held the door open for me. I took one last look inside, realizing that it would be the last time I ever saw this apartment.

Just before the door closed, I heard one, last, mournful wail on that guitar before his soundproofing cut off the rest.

T
he ride to the airport was uneventful, just as the last one had been. It felt eerily similar, but more painful. My bag was my only company this time. That, and my shame.

I pulled out my phone and just stared at the picture that had cost me my relationship with my the man of my dreams. Then, I pulled up my sweater, touching my bare belly. I knew a child was growing inside of there, and I had no idea what to do about it. Everything had been turned upside down in my life these past couple weeks, and I had no idea what to do to straighten it all back out.

Soon, I'd be back in my dorm room. I wondered what I would do when I saw Nicole. Then, I thought with just a hint of disgust, I wondered if suddenly she'd be making trips to Boston. It was clear that he wanted to get with her, and now that I was out of his life, there was no reason not to.

Well, almost no reason. I'd have to murder her, of course. He might not want that on his conscience.

I pushed those jealous thoughts out of my head. I had driven James away all on my own, and whatever he did with his life from here on out was his own choice.

When we got to Logan International Airport, the limo pulled up in the drop-off zone. For a Saturday evening, the place wasn't very busy. The driver was out in an instant, and my door was held open for me before I even had a chance to grab my bag. I stepped out into the cool evening air, pulling my sweater down quickly.

The driver closed the door quickly. “Mr. Coleman finds this distasteful, but he called me and he would like you to sign a non-disclosure agreement concerning the events of the last few weeks.” He pulled out a sheaf of paper.

I felt even more sick. Three weeks ago, when he had obviously felt bad about throwing me out of his life, he had sheepishly asked that I keep quiet about it without signing a non-disclosure agreement. I had a feeling that this was the more standard way that he got rid of girls that he didn't want around anymore.

“And what if I refuse?” I asked.

The driver shrugged. “Mr. Coleman advised me that absolutely nothing adverse will happen to you if you refuse to sign it. However...” He trailed off for a moment. “Knowing what I know about the two of you, it is clear that if you were the source of certain rumors about the two of you, he would be forced to sue you for slander or libel.”

I was shocked. “Slander or libel.” I repeated back to him.

“Slander if it was spoken, libel if it was written,” he clarified.

“Even if it what I say or write is the truth.”

“Even if it's the truth. Mr. Coleman has a huge legal team as part of his tech company, and the damage that those rumors would cause to his billion dollar company would force his shareholders to act. It would be an expensive suit to defend against.” There was a pause. “Mr. Coleman has anticipated your reluctance and has authorized me to offer you one thousand dollars in order to legally guarantee your silence.”

So this was it. I was being paid off and told to never talk about this again. Whether I signed the NDA or not, my life would be ruined if I talked about my billionaire stepbrother's baby. Whether I signed the NDA or not, I was out of his life forever. Whether I signed the NDA or not, my baby could never know who his or her father was.

With a heavy sigh, I said, “If his first offer is a thousand dollars, he has authorized you to offer up to five thousand dollars. I'll cut that in half and sign it for twenty five hundred.” If I was already going to be labeled a gold digger in his mind, I might as well get paid for it. I would need it to support his child.

“Mr. Coleman actually only authorized me to offer up to two thousand dollars. He is apparently a better negotiator than you thought. However...” He trailed off just as he had the last time. “He owes you that much. He's mad right now, but I'll change his mind. If I can't, I'll cover the other five hundred myself.”

He set the sheaf of papers against the car. “This is a general NDA. For now, I'll be the witness on this contract. A more specific NDA will be mailed to your address in New York shortly. It will be up to you to have it notarized and mailed back to the address given. Include receipts for all expenses regarding this and you will be reimbursed.”

I printed my name, signed, and dated without reading a single word of it. I knew that he could have my life destroyed without this contract, but I also knew that he wouldn't without good reason. He was a good man, and I had led him to believe that I wasn't a good woman for him. I was getting what I deserved.

The driver signed and dated it. I had never heard his name before, but now I knew it. He didn't look much like an Oliver, but I knew that he was a good driver and assistant to my brother and I hoped that him sticking his neck out a little for me didn't get him in hot water.

“Thank you. Have a safe trip back to New York,” he said. With that, he turned and got back in the car quickly. He was gone before I had a chance to say anything else.

***

A
s the driver had said, there were tickets waiting for me at the counter. I would be flying coach, and the flight wasn't for two hours, but I'd be home soon and able to put this whole episode of my life behind me.

I touched my belly, knowing that I'd never be able to completely forget this turbulent month.

The line at security was short. I didn't know what kind of proof they needed that someone was pregnant, but I didn't like the look of the scanning machine. However, when I told the TSA agent I was pregnant, she let me through without a problem. A quick wand scan and I was on my way.

I found my gate quickly, then went to a nearby restaurant. I still had over an hour to burn and the only things in my stomach were a half eaten piece of pizza and James'... well, you know. The thought of his cock in my mouth gave me a moment of desire, but I quickly stifled that.
Best to just forget him as quickly as possible
, I told myself.

I ordered a spinach artichoke dip and turned on my phone. I thought about talking to Tessa, telling her something about how she was right about James or something, but I didn't know if that would violate my NDA. Better to just make up a story that could be confirmed by Anne than gripe about James to anyone. As soon as I turned on my phone, the picture of the pregnancy test greeted me again.

I just wanted it to be over with. I'd move on with my life, become a single mother, hopefully finish college. I might have to move back in with my parents, but there was always the community college that Tessa went to there in town. I'd be okay. Things would be okay.

I heard a “neeeeeerm” sound as a family walked by. A little blonde boy with a backpack on, probably about three years old, ran ahead of his parents. In his hand was a toy airplane, and he was making flying sounds as it dipped and soared through the air. He was adorable.

When he saw me looking at him, he stopped and stared at me. I knew that kids that age didn't have any social cues about politeness, so I waved and cheerfully said, “Hi!” He immediately ran back to his dad and hid behind his leg.

His dad picked him up and carried him with one arm. “Hey, don't be scared,” he said. He turned to me and waved, saying to his son, “Wave to her and say hi back.”

“Hi back” the boy said proudly, waving his plane at me. I waved again and the whole family kept walking. The boy wrapped his arms around the back of his dad's neck and looked over his shoulder at me, waving until he was a few more steps away.

My fingers went to my belly and tears welled up in my eyes. That was what I wanted. It was what I always wanted. The family experience. A strong man for my son or daughter to look up to and hide behind when they were scared by a stranger. A father who would smile and tell them not to be scared and to be polite. A husband to teach my children right from wrong. I wanted all of that.

I couldn't let it go this easily.

The picture was still up on my phone. I pressed the
“Share”
button and clicked James' phone number. Along with the picture I sent a message.

––––––––

J
ames, this is the picture that I didn't want you to see. If you still never want to see me again, I will understand. He or she might not, though.

––––––––

I
almost deleted that last sentence, thinking it sounded too much like a guilt trip. However, I wanted a response badly. I wanted him to text me back immediately, telling me that all was forgiven, that he would send Oliver to come pick me up, that we would get a test to confirm the pregnancy.

I wanted him to tell me that everything would be okay.

I stared at my phone. I wasn't too surprised when a full minute passed without a response. It would of course take him some time to process what I had sent him. I would be shocked if it didn't.

Five minutes passed. Maybe he went back to wailing on his guitar. He'd contact me any minute now.

At ten minutes, my spinach artichoke dip came. I stared at it. Before, I was hungry. Now, I couldn't eat a bite.

I almost texted him again at twenty-two minutes to ask him if he had gotten my text, but I managed to stop myself.

At twenty-eight minutes, I sent him the text asking if he had gotten my previous text. No response.