Читать книгу Celebration's Baby - Nancy Thompson Robards - Страница 8

Chapter Two

“I’m pregnant, Aiden.”

Aiden Woods sat at Bia’s kitchen table across from her, weighing his words before he spoke. He was inclined to make a joke—something about not being ready to be a father or that pregnancy was impossible since they’d never had sex.

Ha-ha?

Nope. Not funny.

For once in his life the filter of good sense kicked in before he stuck his foot in his mouth. Besides, one look at Bia’s ashen face told him she wasn’t joking.

“B?”

She didn’t sleep around. So he had a pretty good idea who the father was. Hugh Newman, the bastard. He wouldn’t wish the guy on anyone, much less someone he cared about.

“Are you sure?” The question sounded absurd to his own ears. But what else was he supposed to say? I’m sorry? Tough break? Princess, I tried to warn you that Hugh Newman was a horse’s ass with a pretty face, but did you listen? No, you didn’t.

“Yes, I’m quite sure. Three pregnancy tests don’t lie.” Her eyes welled up with tears.

Damn. Not the tears. Aiden fumbled for a minute. Then he reached across the table and took her hand. As the waterworks began to roll, she held on like he was her life preserver.

“God, I am so stupid, Aiden. How could I have gotten myself into this mess? How could I have let this happen?”

“Hey, hey, it’s going to be okay.” He got up and went around to her side of the table and slid onto the built-in banquette, putting his arm around her. She cried on his shoulder for a solid five minutes.

When Bia had called him at nine-thirty that morning asking if he was free, if he could get away because she needed to talk to him about something important, he’d left the taping of Catering to Dallas, the reality television show that he produced, in the capable hands of the show’s director, Miles Mercer, and met Bia. No wonder she hadn’t wanted to meet him for coffee at the diner as he’d initially suggested. She wasn’t a drama queen, so when she’d asked—and Bia never asked, not something like this—he knew it was important, but he’d never imagined a bomb like this.

Damn.

“Does Hugh know?” he asked, handing her a paper napkin from the holder on the table.

Bia wiped her eyes.

“No. You’re the only person I’ve told. Well, you know and Maya LeBlanc guessed.”

“Who is Maya LeBlanc?”

“She owns the new chocolate shop that’s opening downtown. When I interviewed her yesterday, she took one look at me and asked me if I was pregnant.”

Aiden squinted at her. “How the hell did she guess something like that?”

“I wasn’t feeling well. I had a sinking spell and almost passed out. She must’ve put two and two together. Really, it wasn’t such a stretch. Kind of personal of her to ask, but she did. Of course, that was after we’d been talking about her being highly intuitive. Maybe she was trying to prove a point about her intuition. I don’t know.”

“Did she guess who the father is?”

Bia flinched. “Absolutely not.” She wrung her hands. “Well, sort of. But I didn’t confirm that she was right. Come to think of it, though, I didn’t even confirm that I was pregnant.”

“But she knew it was Hugh? What is this woman, psychic or something?”

Bia inclined her head to the side and pierced him with impatient eyes. “If you think about it, after all the press Hugh and I got, that isn’t such a stretch.”

“Is she the one who tipped off the press back in March?”

Bia blinked. “Maya? I can’t imagine that she would do something like that. I mean, what would she stand to gain?”

Aiden shrugged. “Someone tipped them off. We don’t know who. It sure seems like she’s fishing.”

“Well, if the press finds out that I’m pregnant, we’ll know who told them.”

Aiden nodded. “When are you going to tell Hugh?”

Bia took a deep breath, held it for a minute and then let it out audibly. She propped her elbow on the table and rested her forehead in her palms.

“You’re going to tell him, aren’t you?”

She didn’t look up.

“Bia, you have to tell him.”

“I don’t have to do anything, Aiden. I can’t even think right now. My head feels like it is about to explode.”

“I understand,” Aiden said. “But he’s the father. He deserves to know.”

She gave a little growl. “I didn’t ask you to come here to lecture me.”

That was his cue to back off. A woman he’d gone out with a couple of times had told him that sometimes women didn’t want men to solve their problems; they just wanted them to listen. Seemed kind of ridiculous when a perfectly good solution to the problem was right there in front of them.

“I get that, but come on, B. If I got a woman pregnant, I’d want to know. It’s as much his child as it is yours.”

She rolled her eyes, which looked emerald green through the tears.

“You and Hugh Newman are two completely different animals, Aiden. I didn’t tell you this, but—” She grimaced and shook her head as if she could take back the bait.

“You didn’t tell me what?”

She grabbed another napkin and blew her nose. “This is so embarrassing....” She closed her eyes for a moment, as if gathering her courage. “In the midst of the media frenzy, when the press was going crazy, making me out to be some sort of mystery girlfriend, Hugh’s people offered to pay me to keep quiet.”

Aiden shrugged. “That’s not so out of character for him.”

“No, you don’t get it. He didn’t call me. He had his people do it. Somehow, I don’t think he will be very happy to hear from me now.”

Aiden balled his fists. He’d worked with the guy years ago when he was in Hollywood. Aiden had been a production assistant on one of his movies in the early days. The guy was a jackass, out for no one but himself.

“Well, if you call him and he ignores you, you’ve done your duty. Once you let him know, it’s off your shoulders. But, B, if he wants to be part of the baby’s life, you have to let him. A kid can change a guy. Give him a chance. If he wants nothing to do with the baby, you’re free to walk away.”

He couldn’t believe he was defending Hugh Newman.

“God, you’re bossy,” she said through a fresh stream of tears.

“But you know I’m right.”

She nodded. Then squeezed her eyes shut as she put her head on his shoulder and sobbed again.

“Hey, it’s not that bad. I’m here for you. I know it’s a shock, but you’re strong. You can do this.”

Once again, he slid his arm around her shoulder and she nestled into him as if she belonged there. His heart twisted, but he ignored it and lowered his head so that it rested on hers. Her hair smelled like coconut and something floral that made him breathe in a little deeper.

They stayed like that for a few minutes, until she pulled away. She reached for another napkin, wiped her eyes and blew her nose again. “You’re right. I have to call him. The sooner I do it, the sooner it’s over.”

But she just sat there and didn’t get up to get her phone.

“You have his number, right?”

She nodded. “Well, I have a number for him. I haven’t talked to him in two months, since everything erupted. You know, it’s funny, the other day I almost deleted his number, but I didn’t.”

“Why not? Were you harboring hopes of a second chance?”

She made a disgusted tsking sound and gave his arm a little shove. “Hardly. I didn’t delete it because I got tied up with something else. I’ve been too busy at the paper since then to give him a second thought. I certainly haven’t been pining over him, Aiden.”

“Good to know,” he said.

“Why is that good to know?”

“Because I don’t want to see you get hurt again, B. I mean, you have to let him know about the child, but I don’t want you to harbor any expectations. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“He didn’t hurt me.”

He studied her for a minute, doing his best to read her, but she’d put the wall up. She was good at that, shutting out people and situations so that they didn’t get under her skin. This was only the second time he’d seen her cry. The other time was when she’d broken up with Duane. He would’ve held her then, too, but she’d blamed him for hiring the stripper that Duane had slept with two nights before their wedding. It took some time for their friendship to heal, but she’d finally acknowledged that if it hadn’t happened then, it would’ve likely been someone else. Better to find out before the wedding than after they’d been married for a few years.

Aiden hated that he’d played a part in anything that had hurt Bia. But he knew Duane didn’t love her the way she deserved to be loved. He had made his decision and he’d suffered the consequences.

“What do you think Hugh will say when I tell him?” she asked, her voice sounding unusually small.

That was a no-win question. The Hugh he knew was probably the last person who wanted a kid, especially with someone who couldn’t advance his career. Bia was salt of the earth, the tenacious girl-next-door type. A woman any normal guy would fall over himself to be with. She was smart, funny and loyal to those she cared about. And he’d realized too late that he’d loved her all his life.

“I think what’s more important is what you’re going to say. How you pose it to him sets the tone for his response.”

She opened her mouth but closed it again, sitting back against the banquette and sighing. “I don’t know what to say.” She threw up her hands and let them fall into her lap.

“Tell him the truth. Cut-and-dry.”

“Hi, Hugh. It’s Bia Anderson. Remember me? No? Well, I was your Celebration, Texas, tour guide. Yeah, right, that one. The one your people offered to pay to be quiet. Funny thing, I’m pregnant. Yeah, that’s right. You and I are going to be parents. Isn’t that great news? I’m sure that’s changed your mind about me—makes me so much more attractive, doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got nothing, Aiden.”

He didn’t know what to say. Usually, Bia had no problem saying what was on her mind. That’s what made her a good reporter and had gotten her the top job at the paper. It was a rare circumstance that she was hesitant to make a call or speak her mind.

Of course Bia didn’t know what to say. She didn’t play contrived Hollywood games, which was one of the many things that Aiden loved about her. It was why this was so hard for her.

“Let’s think about this,” he said. “He’ll probably be shocked. Be prepared for that. He might need some time to digest things before he’s able to wrap his mind around it.”

Bia chewed her thumbnail.

“And there’s always Kristin. If he’s really in love with her, this is going to make things pretty rocky for them. If he told her the tour guide story, she’ll probably be pretty upset.”

Bia snorted. “Heaven forbid we upset Kristin Capistrano.”

Aiden held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to help.”

“I know you are. I’m sorry.”

“There’s always the possibility that they’re not in love,” he offered. “At least not with each other. They’re filming a movie together in a few weeks. The relationship is good press. Just watch. But be prepared. He may want to keep things quiet about the baby until after the premiere. Don’t be surprised.”

Bia blanched. “That could be a year.”

Aiden touched her arm. It was warm and soft. Her skin broke out into goose flesh on contact. He tried not to read anything into that. Instead, he reminded himself that she was pregnant. With another man’s child. Somehow, that just made him feel more protective of her.

“But if he’s any sort of human being, he will man-up in due time.”

They sat quietly for a moment. The only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the refrigerator and the faint tick of the old-fashioned red enamel rooster clock that hung over the banquette.

“I know I’ve already told you this, but my dad did a great job raising me. Still, I always felt as if I were missing out because I didn’t have two parents. A kid deserves two parents.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Aiden said. “Your dad was more of a father to me than my own.”

Aiden’s dad had left the family when Aiden was nine years old. The age where every boy needs a father figure most. Aiden had spent more time at the Andersons’ house hanging out with Bia’s dad, Hank, than at his own. Hank had taught him how to throw a football, taken him fishing and taught him how to drive a car with a manual transmission.

“If Hugh wants to be part of the baby’s life—or even better, if he wants to make a life with us—I’d be willing to consider it.”

Aiden had to grit his teeth to keep from telling her not to count on it. Because Aiden knew if he said it, he’d be the bad guy. The jerk. No, he’d just keep quiet and let Hugh speak for himself. Maybe the guy would surprise everyone. Fat chance, but stranger things had happened.

“So, you’d be willing to make that sacrifice, huh? Living with the sexiest man alive? Wow, you’re such a martyr, Princess. Such a martyr.”

She rolled her eyes at him. Then she nestled into the crook between his arm and shoulder, that place where she fit so well.

“What’s next, after you call Hugh?”

“I have a doctor’s appointment Thursday.”

“What time?”

“Why?”

“I’ll go with you.”

“You don’t have to do that, Aiden.”

“I know, but I want to. I’ll be there for you, for moral support.

* * *

Cell phone in hand, Bia went into the bedroom and shut the door. Aiden was waiting in the kitchen. He’d said he understood that she needed to be alone when she made the call.

She wondered if he was standing guard, making sure she actually went through with it. She eyed the window, contemplating crawling out of it. But she knew that although she might be able to run away now, she’d never be able to escape the truth. She might as well make the call while Aiden was there. Besides, he would know if she chickened out. He had this uncanny way of reading her.

After what had happened with Maya yesterday, she wondered if she was too much of an open book or too transparent, but that had never been the case before. In fact, if anything, most people accused her of being too closed, too prickly. Maya’s correct guess that Bia was pregnant had been a fluke. That’s all there was to it. She would just need to make sure Maya didn’t say anything to anyone else. She would go talk to her again later that week.

But right now, first things first. She needed to make the call.

Her hand was shaking as she picked up the phone and pulled up Hugh’s number in her contacts. She wanted to laugh at the irony—how many women would pay to have Hugh Newman’s private number, to hear his voice over the line? But this was a call that she dreaded more than any she’d ever placed.

She stared at her phone screen for a moment, at the ten-digit number and the small thumbnail photo of Hugh’s face in the top left-hand corner of the page.

Her finger hovered over the call button, but she was paralyzed. She couldn’t press it.

Maybe she should send him a certified letter?

Right.

That was the big chicken’s way out. She didn’t know what address to send it to, and, even if she did, she had no guarantee he would be the one to open it—certified letter or not. The rules that applied to the little people didn’t always hold true for people like Hugh and his set.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Just call and get it over with.”

Her shaking finger came down hard on the call button. She held the phone to her ear before she could change her mind. For a few seconds, there was no sound and she was just about ready to pull the phone back and make sure she’d actually dialed the number. But before she could, she heard the ring, distant and tinny.

Bia paced the length of the room as the phone rang...four times before an automated attendant picked up. A generic, robotic voice informed her, “The person at this number is not available. Please leave your name and number after the tone.”

Not even a promise that the person would call back at his convenience. But the one thing that robo-attendant did get right was that Hugh was not available—not physically or emotionally.

Bia hung up. No way was she going to leave such a personal message on his voice mail. For that matter, she didn’t even know if the number still belonged to him.

She slumped down on the bed and stared at the phone’s flat black screen.

Now what?

She should’ve known that he wouldn’t pick up. Why would he? It wasn’t as if he’d been waiting for her to call. She half expected to get a call back from his assistant, the one who had offered to pay her off—

That gave her an idea.

She brought up her call log and scrolled through it. Sure enough, there was the assistant’s California number. What if she called him and asked him to have Hugh call her back? That it was a matter of great importance... Yeah, but there was no way she would make it past the guard dog without revealing what the call was about.

Wait a minute.... She stood up. Recently the paper had run a story on a phone app that manufactured disposable cell phone numbers, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the name of the company. She hadn’t written the story. She’d edited it and probably seventy-five other articles since then. Still, she knew how she could find it. She called up the phone’s browser and typed “how to disguise your cell number.” The first link at the top of the list was for the company the paper had profiled.

She downloaded the app, got a disposable number with a California area code and dialed Hugh again.

Miracle of miracles, he picked up on the second ring.

“Hugh Newman.”

It was now or never.

“Hugh, this is Bia Anderson. From Celebration, Texas.”

There was complete silence on the other end of the line.

“Please don’t hang up. I don’t want anything from you, but I do have to tell you that I’m pregnant and you’re the father.”

She heard him exhale. At least he was still there. He’d gotten the message.

“This is a bad time.” His voice was heavy with annoyance. “I’ll call you back.”