Читать книгу Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant - Andrea Laurence - Страница 11
ОглавлениеThe following morning, Emma met Harper at the twenty-third-floor coffee bar before work. She’d barely slept the night before and was seriously in need of some caffeine.
“You look like hell,” Harper said, always the honest one. When they’d first met at the sorority house, Emma wasn’t quite sure what to think of her. Now she’d come to appreciate her candor. Most of the time.
“Thanks. Good morning to you, too.”
They got into line and waited to place their orders. “What’s wrong?” Harper asked.
“I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
Harper nodded and took a step forward to call out her customized coffee to the guy at the counter. Emma watched her, her brain trying to decide what she wanted to drink, but it simply refused to function like it should. She hadn’t slept. Of course, she hadn’t told Harper why.
She’d been in a nervous tizzy. Jonah Flynn. The playboy millionaire of the software world had the matching half to her tattoo. Fate had played a cruel joke. There was not a worse match on the planet for her, much less to father her child. It was just as well she’d kept her identity a secret. He most certainly would’ve been disappointed to see who she was beyond the tequila and the mask. And fatherhood for the most elusive bachelor in the five boroughs? Yeah, right.
And yet, as she lay in bed that night attempting to sleep, all she could think about was him. How he’d saved her from the creep. How a thrill of excitement had raced through her when he kissed her for the first time. She remembered his hands running over her body as though he couldn’t get enough of her. After everything with David, it had felt incredible to be desired like that. It was a feeling that could easily become addictive and that meant it was dangerous.
She’d tried to forget about that night and had been mostly successful, but her body remembered. Being in the same room, touching him and breathing in his familiar scent had brought it all back. With a vengeance. In the dark of her bedroom, she could easily recall the sensations he’d coaxed from her body. Not once, in two years with David, had she ever responded like that. It was something raw, primal.
“Ma’am?”
Emma turned to the man at the counter, who was patiently waiting on her drink order. “Hot tea,” she blurted. Although she probably needed the jolt of a black cup of coffee, she knew she wasn’t supposed to have too much caffeine. That was a cruel irony for pregnant women everywhere.
The area was as miserably crowded as any Starbucks, so when their drinks were ready, they took them and their pastries, and went on their way back to their offices.
Harper seemed quite pleased with her new work arrangement. “I can get used to having you working here. I’d finally have someone to talk to. Everyone here is pleasant and all, but most of them have their heads in the clouds or their noses in a computer.”
Emma had noticed that. Software designers were definitely different than most of the people she’d worked with. They were intensely focused, usually not even making eye contact or saying hello in the hallway. They were all on some mission, be it to fix a software bug or beat their nemesis at some video game. That or perhaps they just didn’t know how to speak to women.
“Then why do you stay?” Emma asked. “We both know you don’t need to work.”
Harper narrowed her gaze at Emma, then shrugged. “I get bored doing nothing.”
“You could always help Oliver. He might like having his sister there at the family business.”
“Oliver doesn’t need my help with anything. Besides, this place is fun. You’ll get spoiled quickly. I save so much money with the free food. I was able to drop my gym membership, too, which saved me a bundle. Now I can use that money for Louis Vuitton handbags and trips to Paris, instead. I enjoy having income I earned on my own, not because of my last name. You couldn’t get me to leave here and I hope you’ll feel the same. We do need to make some adjustments to your wardrobe, though.”
Emma looked at Harper’s khaki capris and silky, sleeveless top, then down at her conservative suit and frowned. It was her favorite. She’d always thought the dark green had complemented her coloring. “I can’t help it if everyone here dresses like college students. I refuse to assimilate. And don’t you get your heart set on me being here past a few weeks. The minute I can get out of here, I will.”
They paused at the elevator and Harper pushed the button. “Why are you so anxious to go? Is it that bad?”
It wasn’t, but staying here a moment longer than she had to was courting disaster. Emma wondered how much she should tell Harper about yesterday. Harper was one of her best friends, but she was lacking in social couth. Anything she told her would instantly be passed along to their friends Violet and Lucy, as well. From there, who knows who would find out. Emma wanted Jonah to stay in the dark about her identity for the time being and the best way to make that happen was to keep her friends out of the loop.
“I’m just not comfortable here.”
“You’re afraid of running into him.” The remark hit a little too close to home for her taste. Harper always had a way of seeing too much where Emma was concerned. It made her an excellent friend, but left Emma little privacy, even in her own head.
There was no sense in denying it. “Yes, I’ll admit it. It would be awkward, at best, to run into him. And at worst, a conflict of interest if anyone at Game Town found out. My entire report could be compromised if anyone thought I was personally involved with someone here.”
“Or it could be the most wonderful thing ever. I thought you wanted to find him. You know, for the sake of the B-A-B-Y.” She mouthed the last part silently.
Emma didn’t respond. Harper was too wrapped up in her romantic ideas to see the situation objectively and there was no sense in explaining herself any further. She just stepped onto the elevator when the doors opened and sipped her hot tea.
“You’ve already seen him!” Harper accused.
She snapped her head to the side to confirm they were alone in the elevator. “What? No, of course not.”
Harper was unconvinced by her response. “Who is it? Is he cute? What department does he work in?”
The doors opened to the twenty-fourth floor and Emma waved at her friend to be discreet as they stepped out. “Would you keep it down? I don’t want everyone to know.”
“Okay, but you’ve gotta tell me. I can keep it a secret.”
Emma eyed her with dismay. She loved her friend, but honestly... “No, you can’t.”
Harper frowned and planted a hand defiantly on her hip. “Oh, come on. Why not? I mean, it isn’t like it’s the CEO or something. Bagging Jonah would be quite gossipworthy, but anyone else is just run-of-the-mill office news. I don’t know what the big dea—”
Emma could feel the color drain from her face and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Harper halted in her tracks, forcing Emma to turn and look back at her. Her friend’s jaw had dropped open, her perpetual stream of words uncharacteristically on hold.
“Oh my God,” she finally managed.
“Shh! Harper, really. It doesn’t matter.”
“The hell it doesn’t!” Her voice dropped to a hushed whisper that was still too loud for Emma’s taste. “Jonah Flynn? Seriously?”
Emma nodded. “But he doesn’t know who I am or know anything about the baby. And I intend to keep it that way for now. You understand?”
Harper nodded, her mind visibly blown by her friend’s news. “Jonah Flynn is the hottest man I’ve ever seen in real life. He and my brother are friends, and it took everything I had not to throw myself at him every time he came to the house. I can’t believe you two... How did you not jump into his lap when you realized who he was?”
“Have we met?”
Harper frowned. “You’re right. A damn shame, though. What a prize to land. He was totally smitten with you.”
“He’s a player. I seriously doubt that.”
“If you believe the gossip, then yes, Jonah Flynn is a notorious womanizer. But that’s not the guy I’ve known over the years. And the guy you were with was willing to tattoo himself after one night together on the off chance it might reunite you someday. A playboy wouldn’t have an inch of skin unmarked if that was what he did with everyone. You were special to him. Special enough for a guy that goes through women like tissues to take serious notice.”
That was true. Emma hadn’t spied another tattoo on what she’d seen of his body, then or now. But she refused to believe there was any kind of future with him. Even if he was interested in starting something, he wanted the woman she was that night. Not regular old Emma. And she swore she’d never be that woman again. So what was the point? Telling him who she was would just torture them both and ruin the memory of that night.
And yet she had to. Or did she? Her hand dropped protectively to her belly. If Jonah rejected Emma and their child, it could scar the baby forever knowing its father didn’t want him or her. Would it be better to keep quiet? The idea was unsettling to her, but until she decided, not a word could get out. “You have to keep this a secret, Harper. No one can know. Not Violet, not Lucy, not your brother and especially not Jonah.”
“Cross my heart.” Harper sighed in disgust and Emma could see it was almost physically painful for her to say the words. “You’d better keep that tat of yours under wraps, though.”
Emma straightened her collar nervously and started back down the hallway. “I don’t make a habit of displaying my décolletage and have every intention of keeping it hidden. I’m here to do my job and get out.”
“But what about the baby?” Harper trailed behind her.
“I don’t know, Harper. What happened between us is over. Never to be repeated. Ancient history. I don’t know that the baby will change that.” Emma reached out and opened the door to her office. Sitting on her desk was a large crystal vase filled to overflowing with white lilies in full bloom. The warm scent of them was nearly overwhelming in the small space, making her happy that she was past her morning sickness. She’d never received a more beautiful bouquet of flowers in her life.
She stepped inside and plucked the card from the plastic prong. As she flipped open the envelope, she couldn’t decide if she wanted them to be from Jonah or not. His attentions, although flattering, were pointless and even dangerous if he knew who she really was. Yet her impractical, inner girl couldn’t help but wish they were from the handsome businessman.
“‘To Emma,’” she read, her stomach aflutter with nerves and excitement. “‘Welcome to FlynnSoft. I look forward to getting to know you better.’ It’s signed Jonah.”
“Ancient history, eh?” Harper said, leaning in to sniff one of the flowers. “Are you so sure about that?”
* * *
Jonah came down the hallway from the elevator, coffee in one hand, bagel in the other, and paused outside his office. There was a large and quite stunning crystal vase of white Casablanca lilies sitting on Pam’s desk. He frowned. He’d specifically ordered that type of lily for Emma because he felt they were a reflection of her: elegant, pure and refined. They didn’t make any flowers that were stuffy and aggravating.