Lone Star Baby Scandal(14)

After a light lunch, they headed downstairs to the large meeting room. There were about twenty people in attendance. Some were new faces but most were men and women she’d met before. In just a few minutes, Clay asked everyone to have a seat and the meeting began.

All the attendees appeared to listen to Clay with rapt attention. After the general meeting, he touched briefly on the situation caused by Maverick and voiced assurances that none of the stories circulating about the security breach was true. Everest was solid. The reasons behind the attack were still unknown.

After the day’s business was concluded and dinner had been enjoyed, Clay approached her as she gathered her things.

“Sophie, I have been asked to accompany Joseph Rankston and a few others to a lounge down on Lexington. You are welcome to join us.”

“Oh, well, thanks. But honestly, I’d just as soon have an early night.” So much for an early night with Clay.

“Are you sick?”

“Nope. I just don’t want to sit around some club while the bunch of you conspire as to what you’re going to do with the bad guy spreading the rumors when you catch him.”

Clay hesitated.

“Go. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” She tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She’d hoped they would have the evening together. So much for great plans. “To tell you the truth, I’m a bit tired. A hot bath and an early night sound good to me.”

“Okay, then. You know how to reach me and the chef for anything you want to eat. I’ll see you later.”

And he returned to the men and woman waiting for him by the outside door, leaving Sophie standing in the center of the emptying conference room. Grabbing her things, she returned to the suite.

Two of the walls in the main room were floor-to-ceiling glass. She watched the lights come on in the city. All the colors. She decided to take a hot bath, something she especially enjoyed in this bathroom where luxury took on a whole new meaning. A thousand jets circulated the water and massaged her skin. The aroma from the bath salts filled the room, adding to the amazing relaxation. When her fingers began to prune, she toweled off, pulled on her sleeping attire and headed to the kitchen. Cookies and milk seemed like the perfect ending to this day. She opened the center door of the refrigerator that covered the expanse of the wall. Sure enough, on the center shelf, there was a fresh carton of milk, the same brand she’d gone on about the last time she was here. In a gourmet baker’s box on the counter were five-inch-wide chocolate-chip cookies. When she had contacted the firm who maintained this apartment for Clay, she hadn’t mentioned the milk and cookies. That they kept such copious notes was amazing. She’d only answered yes, she would be coming, and voilà! Plopping onto a stool at the bar, she continued to gaze out over downtown Manhattan as she enjoyed the late-night snack.

After a few rounds of flipping channels on the TV, she finally gave up and decided to go to bed. Much later she was awoken by the sound of a woman’s laughter and animated talking coming from the main room near the front door. Then all was quiet before she heard a muffled, “Good night, Clay.”

He had gone out with another woman.

While she was here waiting for him, he’d been out doing the town with someone else. The tears welled in her eyes. She felt nausea curling its way up to her throat. Clay Everett would never change and what self-deluding reason had made her think he would? Why in the world would she ever think Clay saw her as special? She was a good secretary, a fair nursemaid when she had to be. And apparently a fill-in when he couldn’t find anyone else.

Just then she heard a soft knock and her door opened. Sophie pretended to be asleep. She didn’t want to talk to him and she certainly didn’t want anything else from him. Clay walked over to the bed and called her name. She kept still and ignored him. She felt the covers being lifted and placed higher on her shoulder. Then there were quiet footsteps as he returned to the door and closed it behind him.

Self-admonishment filled her heart. She was finished with the man, such as there was to finish. In fact, she really needed to start looking for another job. She couldn’t deal with the emotions; she didn’t seem able to control them. All she wanted now was to get back to the ranch and back to her cottage. She was taking the rest of the week off.

How could he come into her bedroom from the arms of another? Brother, could she pick ’em. She was such a fool. She could feel the blush of humiliation cover her neck and face. What must he think of her really? What would he think when he found out she carried his child? Then that question only made it worse. Why should she care what he thought of her? The fact that she did was pathetic.

The next morning, she gazed in the mirror and it looked as though she hadn’t slept all night. Then she realized through a befuddled brain that she hadn’t. And she was mad as hell. Enough so she couldn’t look at him and refused to even try.

“I’ve got coffee going in the kitchen,” he said, giving her an odd look.

“No, thanks.” She turned down coffee and anything to eat. In fact, the very idea of food made her queasy.

“I missed you at the club last night.”

“I’ll bet you did.” She forced what she hoped was a cheery smile. Let him frown all he wanted. Better yet, let him figure out what was bothering her—if he should decide he cared.

“Do you have a headache?”

“Not yet. Are you ready to go?”

Sophie didn’t care whether he’d finished his coffee. He could eat his Danish in the car or throw it down the disposal. She wanted to get out of here, away from him, and get back home to her own place, where she could think.

“I suppose so.” He held his Danish in his teeth while he pulled on his jacket. “Is that all you brought?”

She stood by the front door, her overnight bag in her hand, her purse over her shoulder. Rather than answer she just glared.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

Before she could walk out the door, nausea hit her hard. Dropping her bag and purse, she ran for the nearest bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Oh, God. It was the morning sickness rearing its ugly head. Just what she didn’t want to happen in front of Clay. When the moment passed, she sat on the floor leaning against a wall. It was the third time she’d been sick. She’d read it was normal and to expect it, but she’d never considered it would hit her while here in New York. What was she going to tell him?

What did it matter?

She was still furious Clay had apparently gone out with another woman last night, and regardless of how many times she got sick, it didn’t change the fact or how she felt about it. For heaven’s sake. She was pregnant with his child.

She got to her feet and proceeded to grab a toothbrush, toothpaste and some mouthwash. She wished she had some crackers but wasn’t about to ask for any.

There was a knock on the door. “Sophie? Are you okay?”

Oh, yeah, she was great. The temptation to tell him the truth was overwhelming but it was a long flight back. She didn’t want to be trapped in that plane with him. She had no realistic idea of how he would react and that was not the place to find out.

“I’m fine. Just too much excitement last evening. Being in New York and everything.”

“You don’t like New York.”

“I never said that.”

“You don’t like big cities, then. Look, can we not do this through the door?”

She dried her mouth and yanked open the door. “No problem. Ready to go?”

Clay gave her a sideways glance that clearly said his suspicion was up. Let him choke on it. She returned to the front door, picked up her laptop and swung her purse strap over her shoulder. Clay grabbed the overnight bag and tried to take the laptop but she refused. She could carry his child. She could damn sure carry her own luggage.

Following Clay to the helipad, she climbed into the chopper and minutes later they headed to the airport.

Once they were on board, the giant aircraft headed west. Sophie kicked off her shoes and sat back into the luscious, deep, rich leather seat. Her eyes felt swollen and puffy. She knew her face looked ashen. All the more reason to stay away from Clay Everett.

None of the people who had flown down with them were on board. She was curious as to why but refused to ask. Grabbing a small blanket from the drawer next to her, she covered herself, determined to sleep during the flight home. The notes from the meeting could be completed in short order, so she could do that when they arrived. Or perhaps she wouldn’t do it at all. Let him hire someone else to type up the notes. If he didn’t like it, he could fire her and she’d be on her way back to Indiana, where she should be in the first place.

She heard him behind her in the small kitchen area. It sounded like he was mixing drinks. Who would drink before noon? Then she realized with aggravation, it was noon. A five-ounce tumbler appeared in front of her face with amber liquid inside.

“Here, take it. You look like you need it.”

“No, thank you.”

“Sophie, either you take the drink with a couple of aspirins or I’m having this plane turn around and getting you to a doctor in New York. It’s light. Just enough to calm you down a bit.”

“I’m calm.”