Maid To The Billionaire(16)

Instead I said, “But not enough that you wanted to be with me?”



“It’s not always just about love babe. I don’t know how to explain it. You do everything right. You’re perfect. I just wasn’t happy.”



That was a fair, honest answer. It might hurt, but he can’t help how he feels. “Thank you for explaining it to me, Jason. It helps a little bit. I actually called you for something else and got sidetracked into that.



“So what’s up?” he asked.



“Um, this is weird and hard… I’m pregnant, Jason.” There was a long, awkward silence. I could hear him breathing, but nothing else.



Finally, just as I was about to forget the whole thing and hang up he said, “Oh wow, yeah, that is weird… I um… I thought you were on the pill…”



“I was. I am. Nothing is a hundred percent though and I’ve been really sick in the mornings so I took a test.”



“A test… like from the pharmacy, over the counter, that kind?”



“Yeah, I bought it this morning…”



“Those tests aren’t always accurate I hear. A buddy of mine had a girlfriend who took three one time and they all came back positive. She went to the doctor and she wasn’t pregnant.”



“Oh, yeah? I was planning on making an appointment; I just haven’t had time yet.”



“Okay, so let me know how that goes. Take care, Vicki.” I was left staring at the phone. Was he serious? “Let me know how it goes.” I put the phone down and lay back down on my bed staring at the ceiling. Maybe it was what I deserved. After all, I wasn’t even sure the baby was his. Ass or not, Jason was right. Before I made any big decisions, I should go to the doctor. I will call first thing in the morning to make an appointment.



***





The next morning I awoke to the thought that this was a new day and I was going to face it as such. When I had my break I would call and schedule an appointment with my gynecologist. Until then, I was going to try and keep a positive outlook. Maybe I wasn’t really pregnant, and maybe if I was, things wouldn’t turn out quite as badly as I pictured them. I’m more capable than I give myself credit for, considering all I’d already gone through in my life. If it comes down to it and I had to deal with this all on my own, I can do that.



I was sick again, but with the idea in mind that it was probably morning sickness, I pushed on and finished getting ready for work. I passed on my morning coffee, knowing I’d probably have a headache later, but I wanted the nausea to be long gone before I got to work. I took a package of saltines and munched on them on my way. When I got to the gates of the mansion, my whole world blew apart.



Normally there was one guard at the gate that greeted people and buzzed the main house if need be. Today there were three very large gentlemen. None of them were the friendly Gus who gave me a donut three times a week, or Haskell who liked to tell me jokes and the latest baseball scores. I didn’t recognize these guys, and none of them looked like they had a sense of humor. I pulled up and stopped and the biggest of the three motioned at me to roll down my window. I did, and as he approached me, I felt a wave of nausea just from the intensity of his glare.



“I.D.” he said, abruptly. I took out my I.D. and handed it to him. He looked hard at it and motioned the other two guys over. They both glared at me and it. What was going on? Finally, he handed it back to me and said, “Miss Hart you are no longer employed by Mr. Reigns. You aren’t to report here again or go near any of Mr. Reigns' properties. If you have any personal property inside the mansion, it will be sent to your last known address. Do not contact Mr. Reigns by phone or electronically, nor by mail of any kind. If you have anything you would like to say to him, you can say it through his attorneys who will be contacting you.”



“I don’t understand. What do you mean that I’m no longer employed? I’m fired? He fired me and hired some ape to tell me that?” I was livid and I wasn’t thinking that here I was addressing said ape in this fashion. I wanted to jump out of the car and run up to that stupid giant house and pound on the door. I wanted to demand that at least one man in my life should have the balls to tell me something to my face for a change! I was so sick of men turning their backs on me. First my father, then Jason and now Alex. Did I have a stamp on my forehead that said, “Please don’t waste your time treating me decently, I’m not worth it!?”



“Yes Miss, you’re fired. Your final paycheck will be mailed to your last known address.”