Читать книгу Having Gabriel's Baby - Kristin Morgan - Страница 8

Arriving home that evening, Joelle took a deep, steadying breath, unlocked the door to her high-rise condo and stepped inside. Her telephone was ringing and she thought she knew who it was. If there was anything she could say about her father, it was that he was persistent. Well, she wasn’t anywhere near being ready to talk to him just yet. First she needed a couple of aspirin and some sleep, then maybe she’d be ready to confront the world, again. But, for tonight, she had enough on her mind. She stood nearby while allowing her answering machine to pick up the call and listened to see if her initial suspicions were accurate.

And, sure enough, they were. Within a moment she was hearing her father’s condescending tone of voice as he demanded that she answer her telephone and talk to him. From the number of messages she saw flashing on her machine, he’d obviously been trying to reach her for days.

Yeah, well, he could try reaching her all he wanted, but she wasn’t going to listen to his tirades anymore. Not after the way he’d humiliated her in front of all his employees. After all, it wasn’t every day that a daughter, who was always faithful to her father’s wishes, found out that he was having another employee within his company spy on her work performance and report those findings back to him. This time she was through allowing him to manipulate her. He might be her father, but he didn’t have any right to dictate her life.

This time, though, he’d really hurt her. In fact, he hadn’t gone into retirement and turned over his company to her at all. He’d only made her believe that she’d finally won his respect for him to do that, when all the time he was still calling the shots from behind the scenes. Damn him, anyway. He’d made her look like a fool. Well, this was one time she wasn’t going to forgive him for it. Nor was she ever going to trust him again to be on her side. But, more importantly, now, more than ever, she was determined to show him that he was wrong about her, and that even without his so-called help, she had the intelligence and tenacity to become highly successful. As much, in fact, as any son of his would have.

She was never going to forgive him.

Never. But, enough of her father for now. At the moment she had other, more urgent things to worry about. Things like Gabriel Lafleur.

No…actually, she really didn’t want to think about him, either. The problem was, if only she could stop herself. Wasn’t it enough that first thing tomorrow morning she was going to have to contact her attorney and have him look into the matter of her last night in Acapulco? My goodness, couldn’t something, somewhere give her a simple break?

It didn’t look that way. Because, already images of Gabriel were lurking at the corners of her mind, just waiting to jump forward. One in particular, the one where he was kissing her on the elevator while going up to her room was especially haunting.

It made her stomach quiver.

Her breasts tingle.

It made her feel breathless.

She still wanted him, for heaven’s sake. Just as much as she had last night.

How could she recall every little detail of their lovemaking and yet be unable to recall leaving the cantina with him to go get married? And, yet, something in the back of her mind told her that was exactly what she had done. The question was, had they succeeded?

The tension in her neck was so great that she couldn’t take it anymore.

Slipping out of her shoes, she turned on the water in her shower and then began unbuttoning her blouse. Moments later she slipped under the warm spray and began shampooing her hair. After stepping out and blowing dry her short shag hairstyle, she dressed in a pale green soft cotton robe. She plodded her way barefoot to the beige sofa in the den, and curled up on one corner with a blanket and pillow and fell sound asleep.

At some point, the doorbell finally woke her, and it became immediately clear that her caller had already grown impatient with her and as a result had his or her finger currently glued to the chime button. Throwing back the light blanket, Joelle groaned and somehow got to her feet. Without a doubt, she knew who it was.

Still, as a security measure, she peeked through the peephole first and then opened the door. The moment she did, her father came barreling across the threshold as if he were a tyrant on a rampage—which was normal behavior for him. “Where have you been, Joelle?” he demanded, his ruddy complexion reddened with anger. “I’ve been calling for days. Didn’t you get any of my messages?”

If there was ever the slightest chance of Joelle getting rid of her headache anytime soon, it had just quickly skedaddled out of her reach. “I’ve been out of town, Father,” she said, dryly, dropping back down on the sofa and laying her pounding head back against the soft cushion. At any minute, she felt certain that her head was going to explode into a million pieces.

“That’s no excuse,” her father declared, standing over her and glaring down as if he was a mighty eagle and she, an insignificant little sparrow. His voice seemed to vibrate through her aching head like the strumming of a high-pitched guitar. “I was worried sick about you,” he continued as his hands came to rest on his hips. But, actually, from Joelle’s point of view, his arrogant pose said otherwise.

“I wish I could believe that,” she replied, listlessly, without bothering to lift her head and look at him. Instead she placed her fingertips against her temples and began massaging them.

She was still angry at her father. And hurt, too. And she had every right to be. It was time that Sylvan Ames realized that she was a real person with feelings and not just someone put on this earth for him to ridicule when the mood struck.

“Joelle, have you any idea of how embarrassed I’ve been by your sudden absence from the marketing firm? Everyone has been asking about you and I’ve had to lie to them about your whereabouts.”

Opening her eyes, Joelle lifted her head and met his stare. “Really? Well, why didn’t you just tell them the truth, that I’d resigned on the spot the day I walked out and that I’m no longer an employee of your company?”

“What kind of an idiot do you take me for, Joelle? I’m not about to tell my employees something like that. Now we both know that you just overreacted that day. I’m sure now that you’ve had time to think about how foolish you looked storming out of the office like that, you’re as anxious as I am to put the whole ugly incident behind us and get on with business as usual.” Walking briskly toward the door, her father turned just before reaching it. “In fact, be in your office by eight sharp tomorrow morning. We have a new account that needs your attention.”

“I’m sorry, Father, but that isn’t possible,” Joelle replied.

Coming to a sudden halt, her father turned and pinned her to the spot with his glare. “Joelle, I’ve had about enough of this. I want you to stop behaving like a spoiled child.”

“Don’t you mean like a silly female?”

“Yes. That, too.”

“Well, for your information, Father, I’m not behaving like either. And to prove it, I’m declining your offer of reinstatement. You see, I’ve decided that it’s time that I make it in this world on my own—without your help.”

“That’s absurd. You’ll never do it,” Sylvan Ames remarked bitterly.

Joelle sighed. “Yeah—well, neither one of us will ever know that for sure unless I try. And tha’s what I’m going to do, Father. Surely you can understand my reasons.”

Her father narrowed his eyes. “You’ll never make it without my help.”

“Maybe not. But it’s a chance I have to take.”

Smirking, her father pointed his finger at her. “You’re going to fall flat on your face. But, when you do, don’t you dare come crawling back to me. You’ve had your chance. I’ll not be sympathetic to your pleas.” Then, pivoting on his heels, he rushed out her door, slamming it behind him.

Hot tears sprang to Joelle’s eyes. “You needn’t worry, Father. I won’t come crawling,” she whispered into the extreme silence that immediately followed his departure. “Not for any reason.”

Later that night, Joelle opened herself a can of chicken soup for supper. After eating, she went to bed early with an ice pack for her throbbing head. At some point, she began dreaming of Acapulco and Gabriel and woke up the following morning halfway expecting to find her vacation lover asleep in bed beside her. But he wasn’t there, and Joelle soon found herself wishing that he was. Eventually she began to realize what she was doing to herself and vowed to put him from her thoughts, once and for all.

But, unfortunately, over the next three weeks Joelle was incapable of pulling herself so completely together that she was able to block out all thoughts of Gabriel. He crept into her mind at the weirdest times, at some of the most inappropriate moments. Sometimes she found him in her thoughts even when she was making plans for her future…plans that, truthfully, here lately, she seemed to have so little energy in trying to accomplish. It wasn’t that she was depressed, or sickly, because she wasn’t either. The drive was there. It was her get-up-and-go that wasn’t.

She was just tired all the time. And sleepy. In fact, no matter how early she went to bed at night, she couldn’t seem to get enough sleep. Lately she required an afternoon nap, just to keep going. Finally, after realizing that her condition wasn’t improving, she decided that she needed to see a doctor for a good physical and promised to make herself an appointment soon.

But by the time she did, she was quite certain that there was really something seriously wrong with her. She was beginning to wonder if maybe she had picked up some kind of intestinal virus while on vacation.

Gabriel Lafleur stood on the veranda of his large Cajun-styled plantation home, built by his ancestors over a hundred and fifty years ago. It wasn’t quite sunup yet, but he knew he should’ve already been in the cane fields out back. His hired help was already hard at work. But, instead of hurrying to join them, here he was sitting around, sipping on his last cup of coffee and acting like some lovesick fool who had all the time in the world to be thinking about her. Hell, it was planting season and he didn’t have time to be thinking about anything other than work. Acapulco was weeks ago. It was time he forgot about the woman he’d made love to while there. Heaven help him, it was what he wanted to do more than anything else in the whole world. Only there was a dumb, stubborn part of him that wasn’t cooperating with his common sense.

And that’s what ate at his gut…constantly… steadily. He didn’t even want to think about her. Or, any woman, for that matter. His ex-wife’s betrayal had cured him of that. No way would he ever trust another woman enough to make her his wife. Even he wasn’t that big a fool.

And, yet, here he was acting just like one. Joelle Ames was, without a doubt, from start to finish, from head to toe, all wrong for him. In fact, that’s what made him an even bigger fool than most. He knew she was all wrong for him.

He was an idiot. No doubt about it.

Actually, instead of standing around like some lovesick schoolboy, he should’ve been counting his lucky stars that Joelle Ames was obviously the kind of woman who had been able to put their one-night stand into its proper perspective, just as he had. Some women he knew would’ve had trouble being that open-minded.

He was surprised that he hadn’t heard something— anything—by now from her or her attorney. Under the circumstances, he had felt certain that he would have, if for no other reason than to touch base and clear the air between them one final time. In some ways, maybe he’d been wanting to hear from her.

In fact, one day last week, he’d got to thinking about her—about their night together—and almost picked up the telephone to call. But then he’d decided that maybe it was for the best if he didn’t. Certainly he didn’t want to stir up any unnecessary trouble for himself. Besides, if she wasn’t worrying about any legal problems that might result from their time spent together, then why should he?

Well, in all reality, he did have his family inheritance to worry about. The last thing he needed was for some woman he hardly knew thinking she had some legal claim to it.

But he didn’t think that Joelle Ames was that stupid.

Still and all, right now his inheritance wasn’t the biggest problem concerning him. She was his biggest problem—period.

Damn her, anyway. Why couldn’t he simply forget about her?

Suddenly renewing his strong determination to put an end to his thoughts of her—Gabriel set his cup down on the railing that surrounded the porch and headed down the steps toward the fertile fields behind his house. This was the land of his ancestors, the land his father had left him. Located on the western edge of the Atchafalaya Basin in south Louisiana, it was rich, prime soil for toiling sugar cane. But even with all the modern technology and equipment, farming was still a hard way of life. It still took his total commitment, and then some.

But he wasn’t complaining. Not really. This was his way of life; it was all he’d ever known, and it was more important to him than anything in the whole world. And it always would be.

Forever.

Therefore, his memories of Ms. Joelle Ames, citywoman personified, could just back off.

Pregnant! Joelle closed the door to her doctor’s office as she walked out and stepped into the bright light of another typical California day. She didn’t smile, or breathe deeply of the crisp, clean breeze as she normally would have. Instead she got into her car and drove straight home. Once inside, she wandered aimlessly from room to room, her nerves too fidgety for her to think of sitting down for even a moment.

Oh, God, how could something like this be happening to her? She, of all people, who as a dutiful daughter had never once forgotten her moral upbringing when dealing with the opposite sex. It wasn’t fair that she was going to have to pay such a high price for her one failure in doing so.

She was suffering from a form of shock, she knew. Her doctor’s unexpected diagnosis for her malaise had come as a real blow. Actually she supposed that she should’ve considered the possibility that she was pregnant all along. But, the truth of the matter was, she hadn’t. Or, rather, she’d had her suspicions deep, down inside but she hadn’t wanted to believe them. But now she had no choice. According to her doctor, she was four weeks pregnant with Gabriel Lafleur’s child.

It was just so difficult for her to believe.

A real life shocker.

She was absolutely terrified.

How could she, of all people, be carrying a child, when, in fact, she was the last woman on earth meant for motherhood?

Maybe her doctor had made a mistake.

No—actually, she thought a moment later, the mistake was all her doing. No one had forced her into sleeping with Gabriel Lafleur. Therefore, it was up to her to deal with the crisis that had resulted. And, needless to say, she would do it alone. Without help from anyone. Not even her father.

Especially, not her judgmental father.

Still, Joelle knew her own limitations and was terrified at the prospect of being a single mother. How would she manage to juggle her time between her career and a baby? The fact was, right now, she didn’t even have a job. But even if that wasn’t a part of the problem, her lack of knowledge about kids and motherhood was. She didn’t know an iota about what it took to be a good parent. Her mother had died soon after giving birth to her, and her strict, disciplinarian father had raised her without ever remarrying. Therefore, she’d never had a female role model in her life. Not only that, but her continuous efforts to achieve leadership in a competitive business world had long ago forced her to program out that part of her feminine nature. She had never allowed herself to feel as though she needed a husband and children to be fulfilled as a woman. All she’d ever felt she needed was to have her father’s undying respect and had known instinctively that the only way to gain it was by being totally committed to her career.

But now all that was changing.

Now she was going to have a baby.

Dear God, what in the world was she going to do with a baby?

That night, Joelle went to bed and worried herself to sleep. She dreamed of Gabriel and Acapulco and woke up feeling worse than ever.

For the next several days, Joelle thought of little else. But in the end she knew that there was only one option for her and that was to have her baby, and that’s all there was to it. Later on, in the coming months, she would deal with what was the best solution for raising her child while still maintaining a fulltime career. But for now, her mental plate was overflowing. Though her decision to have her baby had settled her emotions down somewhat, they still weren’t anywhere near normal. The truth was, she still had several immediate problems facing her. San Diego was her hometown. She knew lots of people here. Her father was the social climber of the century and worried continuously about his spotless reputation, as if he were an old mother hen. Her pregnancy was going to be an embarrassment for him—and for her, too, no doubt about it. Somehow, she was going to have to find a way to keep her delicate condition a secret from him and everyone else in San Diego, although, deep down inside, she knew that it was going to be virtually impossible. Worse, not only was her father going to be shocked and embarrassed by her pregnancy, but undoubtedly he was going to ridicule her judgment in wanting to keep her baby and she simply couldn’t deal with that kind of criticism from him right now.

Which was exactly why, she supposed, that she had automatically tossed aside any thought of telephoning Gabriel Lafleur to tell him about the baby. Like her father, she didn’t want him to think that she was needy—clinging—and expecting him to assume responsibility for her problem. After all, she still had her goal of proving to her father—and to the entire world—that she was quite capable of taking care of herself.

Besides, what good would it have done her to call Gabriel? She knew for a fact that he didn’t want a wife any more than she wanted a husband. At least, he’d said as much in Mexico, several times, in fact. And according to her attorney, Smith Jamison, thus far, he hadn’t been able to find any documented proof that she and Gabriel had gotten married on her last night in Acapulco. She had absolutely no reason in the world to think that Gabriel Lafleur wanted to hear from her, again, under any circumstances. Therefore, it was ridiculous of her to want to call him simply to appease some deep down need in her to hear his voice, again. Absolutely ridiculous.

Still and all, several nights later, in a moment of extreme weakness, when a sudden loneliness swooped down on her and the thought of carrying her child for nine long months without having anyone on her side became unbearable, Joelle found herself dialing his telephone number. Of course, she had no intention of telling him about the baby. She simply wanted to hear his voice, make small talk for a while and then hang up. That would be enough to fill the sudden emptiness in her. She was sure of it.

His telephone rang once…twice…three times.

By now, Joelle was having second thoughts about what she was doing. Maybe it would only make things worse.

Suddenly someone lifted the receiver, and Joelle stopped breathing.

“Hello,” a woman said, her distinct Cajun accent being very similar to what Joelle remembered of Gabriel’s. Only hers was more pronounced, and she sounded much older than Gabriel. Old enough, in fact, for Joelle to wonder if it was his mother. It was the only thing that kept her stomach from bottoming out at the sound of a female voice answering his telephone. After all, she was only assuming that he’d been telling her the truth in Acapulco when he’d said he was single and unattached.

Suddenly Joelle realized that there was always the possibility that the information that Gabriel Lafleur had told her about himself in Mexico was, in fact, a lie. Maybe he was married. Maybe he even had kids. The thought nearly paralyzed her and her mouth went dry.

“Who is this?” the woman asked, indignantly. “Is this some kind of a prank call? ’Cause if it is…”

Joelle swallowed. “No—this is not a prank call,” she finally said after finding her voice. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”

“Then, who’s this?”

“I—I’m Joelle Ames.”

“Are you selling somethin’? ‘Cause if you are, I ain’t buyin’.”

“Uh—no. I’m not with a telemarketing service.”

“Hmm…Is that so? Then, who do you want to speak to?”

“W-well, actually…” Joelle said, stammering her words. The woman was certainly intimidating her. “I think I may have dialed the wrong number.”

“What number did you want?” the woman asked, briskly.

“Uh…” Shaken Joelle glanced down at the telephone number Gabriel had given her. With trembling fingers, she lifted the piece of paper and read off the ten-digit number, area code included.

“Well, you got the right number,” the older woman said. “So, if it ain’t me you want, then I guess it’s Gabe.”

Gabe? Short for Gabriel. Well, at least he’d given her his correct name and telephone number. Her stomach settled down—somewhat. Hopefully everything else he’d said about himself was true, too. Otherwise, she was going to hate herself even more for what she’d done with him.

Joelle cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I did call to speak to Gabriel,” Joelle replied.

“Well, he ain’t come in from the fields just yet. I’m Big Sadie, his housekeeper. I’ll tell him you called.”

Joelle already knew she’d made a mistake in phoning him and decided that this was her last chance to pull out.

“That’s quite all right. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t even tell him anything. Please, just forget that I called. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. Goodbye.”

“Now wait a minute, cher. I think I know who you are.”

“I doubt that,” Joelle replied.

“Well, let me see, now…I bet you, you’re that woman he met on vacation.”

Joelle’s grip on the receiver tightened. “He told you about me?” she asked, in truth, awed down to her toes that Gabriel would even do such a thing.

His housekeeper smirked. “Well, that ain’t exactly how it was. See, I saw them pictures he took of you, and he said that you were his tour partner—or somethin’ like that. Anyways, I ain’t never seen Gabe take so many pictures of anyone.”

Joelle frowned to herself. Funny, but she didn’t recall Gabriel taking any snapshots of her in Acapulco. Oh—well, yeah, maybe one or two that she’d noticed. Mostly she’d seen him taking pictures of the scenery. Sometimes that scenery may have been located behind her. Therefore, if by chance she ended up in any of those snapshots, then it was purely by accident.

“Oh—look—don’t hang up,” the housekeeper said. “I think I hear Gabe comin’ in now.” A fraction of a moment later and much too soon for Joelle to have stopped her, Joelle heard when the older woman laid the receiver down and said, “It’s for you, Gabe.”

Joelle’s insides froze.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“That woman?”

“What woman?” Joelle heard Gabriel ask.

“The one in the pictures.”

“Pictures?”

“The ones from your vacation.”

“Oh—those pictures.” There was a long pause and then finally Gabriel said, “I’ll take it in my study.”

Joelle’s heart began to pound once again.

She certainly had plenty of time to hang up and even thought of doing so. But then she realized it would only make her look like an even bigger fool, so she took a couple of deep breaths and waited anxiously for him to answer. Finally she heard him say, “Hello.”

Air rushed from her lungs. “Gabriel?”

There was a momentary pause. “Yes.”

“This is Joelle. Joelle Ames…” Actually there was always the chance that he wouldn’t remember her. Or, at least, her name. The sudden thought that he might not caused something in her to shrivel up like plastic wrapping in a hot oven.

“Hello, Joelle,” he said, his tone of voice even and unemotional. “I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to hear from you, again.”

She tried swallowing down the lump in her throat.

“Look, maybe my calling you like this wasn’t such a good idea, after all,” Joelle replied. “I probably should’ve let my attorney do this.”

“But you called instead,” he said.

“Well-yes-but-”

“But, what?”

“Nothing,” Joelle replied, suddenly realizing that she was getting paranoid for nothing. Sure, if she were to tell him about the baby, he would probably freak out. But she wasn’t going to do that. She’d just called to talk to him…to hear his voice one more time. She didn’t plan to ever call him, again.

“Look,” he drawled, “I’ve been meaning to phone you. In fact, I was wondering if your attorney had turned up anything about—well, you know—about that night.”

Joelle took a deep, steadying breath. “Well, actually, that’s why I called.” Liar. “I wanted to let you know that he hasn’t been able to find anything, no documentation that we got married. No nothing. Lately he’s been saying that we might not ever know what really happened that night.”

“I see,” Gabriel replied, hesitantly. “In that case, what do you suggest we do?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “What do you think?”

“Well, it’s been well over a month now. If there is still no documentation to be found, I don’t see the point in either of us pursuing the matter. It looks to me like we obviously backed out of what we had planned when we left the cantina.”

Yeah, they’d just ended up in bed together, instead. And she had the proof of what they’d done growing inside of her.

“I think you’re probably right. I sure hope so,” Joelle said, coolly. But, in spite of her indifferent answer, her stomach sank to the floor.

“I hope so, too,” he replied. “Look, I think it’s time we just consider the whole incident dropped.”

“Sounds good to me,” Joelle said, forcing herself to sound as elated as he. “Besides, if a problem should result, I’ll have my attorney take care of it right away.”

For a long moment, Gabriel was silent. Finally, he cleared his throat. “Listen, now that I’ve had a moment to think about it, just to put both of our minds at ease, maybe we should sign some kind of an agreement, naming each other blameless for that night.”

Joelle stiffened. It wasn’t that she wanted anything from him, because she didn’t. It was the fact that he was suddenly so suspicious of her. As if he thought that she had some underlying motive in all of this. In truth, she could’ve been thinking the very same thing of him, but she wasn’t. “Look, Lafleur, let’s get one thing straight. I’m not one to cause you any problems, okay?”