Billionaire Flawed 2(202)

“Angie, where the hell are you,” he said.

“I was out on a date,” I replied.

“You called out today, but I need to talk to you right now, and in person.”

The line went dead; I guess he was serious again.

I hopped a cab uptown while pondering what was in store for me at the agency.

The office was mostly empty today, just a few personal assistants running about and grabbing one thing or another. I strode into Martin’s office, hoping not to be noticed.

“Angie, this is a real mess I’m in now,” he said, “and you know why?”

I shook my head no.

“I got a hot tip from a waiter at a breakfast bar about twenty minutes ago that says you’re having a kid. And, not just anyone’s, you’re having the quarterbacks kid.”

I felt a little timid about responding, so I waited for him to continue.

He plopped himself in his old leather roll chair and reached to the bottom floor of his desk and drew out a bottle of bourbon and a glass.

“I’d offer you some, but I had a feeling you’d say ‘no’.”

He gave himself a healthy pour and belted it back in one gulp.

“I knew this thing would start getting messy. Hell, I got some half-assed threat from Bob upstairs that says he wants you gone. What did I do? I laughed at him. He’s got about as much control of my staff as you do.”

“Martin,” I started.

“Don’t start tryin’ to talk sense to me now. You gotta bury this thing, Angie. I can’t tell you what to do right now, but the way I see it is that you got a choice. Either you have the baby, or you have your job. I won’t let this place become a media circus over your torrid love affair. Get out, and don’t come back until you’ve decided.”

I stood up sheepishly, starting my way toward the exit. How could I choose between one and the other, at this point I wanted both.

Unfortunately, it looked like the media had gotten their hands on my work address, as I exited the building I saw a small crowd of reporters.

One of them in the group looked at me and started scampering my direction. I was too shocked and confused to talk to reporters right now. I scurried to the rear of the tower, to a small service exit, and ran out and around the corner to avoid them.

I had a feeling that it would be just as packed at my apartment, but I felt the need to check anyway.

The short ride back had me feeling incredibly nervous. I had never been the center of attention like this. Normally I was the one on the sidelines pulling my clients out of view, or doing a small announcement for the agency. But, I had never been the center of something so big.

Rounding the corner, I saw a crowd gathered, larger than the one at work. I couldn’t dream of dealing with them right now, either.

I could use a drink.



9.

I had the driver drop me off in an empty alley near Devlin’s bar down the street. Upon entering the bar, I found it nice and empty, save for the usual barfly that sat on the back stool. I meandered to the closest table and sat, waiting for service, and partially hiding my face with my jacket.

The air was full of cigarette smoke, and I let out a cough to clear my lungs. I looked at my phone; it was dead silent. A loud crack from the back room and out popped Devlin; tossing the server door open and carrying a case full beer, only stopping for a moment to hand one to the barfly. With a quick look around the bar, I could tell he noticed me at the table. So, he sat his goods on the nearest countertop and walked over my way.

“Congratulations, girlie. Looks like you bagged a winner,” he said with a smile.

I pushed myself lower into the booth.

“Oh, don’t be so shy. I’m sure everyone will stop caring by tomorrow,” he took a seat opposite me.

“What am I going to do this time, Dev? If I have the kid, then I’ll be jobless, and homeless. Jake doesn’t want a kid, and I don’t want to make him be a father. But, if I terminate then I keep my job and everything goes back to the way it was.”

Devlin pulled off a shoe and started to massage his foot through his sock. I tried my best to pay little attention to it.

“You know, Angie. Being forced to do something that you don’t want to do is little fun,” he said.

“I know,” I replied.

“What do you want to do?”

I thought about it for a moment.

“I want not to think about this, that’s what I want to do.”

He nodded.

“We all have things we don’t want to think about. See the barfly in the back? He’s avoiding talking to his son about becoming a dad for the first time. His son is barely out of high school and already starting a family.

“He doesn’t want to do it, but at some point he’ll have to put away the liquor and deal with the problem, or it just won’t go away. You have an interesting choice ahead of you, and you’re the only one that can make it.