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Marco (The Men of Indecent Exposure #1)(32)

By:Raven St. Pierre


"I'll get it," Marco offered, passing a smile my way before standing. I  watched him move toward the hallway and kept my gaze trained on his back  until he disappeared. When I finally did turn away, I found his father  watching me with a grin on his face. I returned it and then looked down  at the tabletop, knowing I'd just been caught watching his son.

This night had been eye-opening on several different levels, starting  with the car ride over. My conversation with Marco led to feelings of  jealousy when he mentioned the old flame he recently had a run-in with.  The sensation of churning in my stomach as he spoke about her was  unexpected. Mostly because I wasn't supposed to care about who or what  was on his social calendar, but …  maybe I did a little.

Then there was his admission that he'd literally pushed her away because  of me. While, yes, that was likely because of his concern after not  being able to reach me, it could have been more than that. It felt like  more than that.

The loud screech of a small girl filled the house when Marco opened the door.

"That would be Bel," Rosalina said from across the table, smiling when  another one of the high-pitched sounds hit the air. Accompanying her  tiny voice was Marco's, sounding as if he'd attacked the young girl with  kisses, likely the cause for all the screaming. They took a moment at  the entrance, removing shoes and chatting a bit, and then Marco  returned, but he wasn't alone …  and the sight of who he carried in with  him stopped my heart.

The resemblance was clear now that I'd made the connection, now that I'd seen her in his arms.

"Ms. Palmer!" Izzy, my favorite little classroom helper, screamed. All  eyes were on me as she wriggled in Marco's arms until he finally put her  down, confusion heavy in his expression as well. "Where have you been?"  Izzy asked loudly, throwing her arms around my neck when she made it  around to my side of the table. I returned her embrace, but shock still  rendered me speechless.

"The sub Headmaster Turner got us is so mean!" Izzy added, and then  proceeded to ramble on about school and all I'd missed in my absence-an  absence I hadn't yet felt up to discussing with anyone. Including Marco.         

     



 

The next face I saw was also a familiar one-that of Izzy's mother,  Marcela. Yes, I recognized the name when Marco first mentioned it, but  never in a million years would I have guessed it was the same Marcela.  Her last name wasn't the same as Izzy's, so I didn't readily recall it.

 … but apparently it was Rios.

Marcela's brow creased when questions entered her mind. Her head tilted  to the side as she slipped her purse off her shoulder and onto the back  of an empty chair.

I gave a shy wave because I didn't really know what to say.

"Ms. Palmer? What're you doing here?" Marcela asked. There was no malice in her tone, just genuine shock and confusion.

Before I could figure out how to answer that question, Marco did.  "Apparently, you two already know each other, but …  this is Brynn," he  replied.

Marcela's eyes widened as the realization set in.

This was a lot for me to wrap my head around, plus it served as a reminder of how poorly things had panned out on my job.

"I heard you got fired," Izzy blurted loudly, only being curious, but …   the statement caused those around the table to fall silent as all eyes  shifted my way. "That's what Ian said his mom told him, but that's not  true, is it Ms. Palmer? You're coming back, right?"

Heat flashed across my face as my eyes began to blur. I didn't look at  Marco's face, but I knew he watched me just like all the others. I did  intend to tell him about work, but not now. Not like this.

"Um …  excuse me," I said, hearing how my voice strain with the words.

As quickly as I could, I stood from my chair, feeling the stares of  Marco's family on my back as I hurried from the dining room. I had no  idea where I was headed, but all I knew was I needed to get out of  there. The walls were closing in around me and I couldn't take it.

The screen door closed behind me and I practically gasped for air when I  reached the porch, just about running down the steps right after. My  feet stopped at the end of the driveway, but only because I wasn't sure  where I was or how to get home from here.

What his family must think of me …

I was jobless and pregnant-a tragic combination, but that was my  reality. Life had been one big haze for me lately because, for the first  time ever, I didn't have a plan; I didn't know what the future held for  me. It seemed like one thing after another kept getting thrown at me  and I was no longer on my feet, but down on the ground, continuing to  get pummeled.

And I was tired.

Warm hands braced my arms from behind and I missed the sound of his footsteps approaching because of my sobs.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Marco asked.

My shoulders were tugged gently when he turned me to face him, but I  didn't have an answer to his question. It didn't seem like I had the  answer to anything lately. All I knew to do was to get up in the morning  and keep trying, keep fighting. I lost track of how many resumes I'd  submitted, or how many favors I called on. Still, at every turn, it felt  like I was being knocked back twice as far as I moved forward.

"When did they let you go?" he asked next as I sniffled.

"A little over a week ago," I answered, wondering how I got to this place, wondering how things got so out of control.

"The day I couldn't get you on the phone," he realized.

I nodded to confirm. That had been one of the lowest moments of my life.

"The way they looked at me … " I confessed, recalling the judgment behind  the eyes of my peers. "They talked to me like I was trash off the  street." The headmaster's long, drawn out speech was something I'd never  forget. It was thrown in my face that I was hired at St. Ann's to be a  role model to the student body and apparently, I had not measured up to  their standard.

Marco's shoulders squared as he watched me and I could see the tension  in his arms when he clenched his fists. "What'd they say to you?" he  asked through gritted teeth.

"It doesn't matter," I responded. I remembered every word, but honestly  didn't feel like reiterating it all. What was the point anyway? The way  that man spoke to me was deplorable, but I was virtually helpless. I  could defend my character, but the clause in my contract was legally  binding. I even faxed it to my brother to look over just to be sure. He  confirmed that, while I could definitely pursue a case against St.  Ann's, the likelihood of me winning was slim. The end result would  probably be a bunch of court fees I couldn't afford and nothing to show  for it.

A sharp breath puffed from Marco's nostrils and I knew he was angry.  Hell, I was angry, but there was nothing either one of us could do about  it. My fate had been sealed and the only thing left to do was adjust  and move on.         

     



 

"I'm gonna call you tomorrow morning so we can get you squared away with  medical insurance. We can't let any time lapse in your coverage with  you expecting. And make a list of all your monthly bills with the  account numbers and phone numbers so I can get them paid before they  fall behind," he rattled off. "How much do you usually use for  groceries? I'll get that together for you, too, and-"

I was already shaking my head and he hadn't even finished yet. "No," I  cut in. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I won't let you. I  won't let you carry me," I clarified.

"I wouldn't be carrying you," he countered. "I'd be taking care of you."

I folded my arms across my chest, staring at the ground. "Well …  I can't let you do that either."

A long breadth of silence passed between us and Marco's hands went  inside his pockets. The sound of his raspy tone made me look into his  eyes again. "You still don't get it."

I stared, wondering what he meant.

He shifted his weight to one foot and stared at the ground instead of me  now. "Taking care of you is what I'm supposed to do, Brynn. Whatever  you need," he went on, "I've got you."

My heart beat out of synch at those words because I felt them, felt the truth they were laced with.

"There's no way I can let you do all that," I protested. "I've got money  saved. I'll be fine," I insisted. "Plus, I've been applying at other  schools, so it's just a matter of time until someone calls me in for an  interview."

Marco leaned his head to the side and a look of concern came my way.  Right after, he placed his hand on my stomach and rubbed it gently. "And  what about when they see this?" he asked, not meaning to offend me, but  he clearly wanted me to think about what I was saying.

His hand went back inside his pocket after the point was made and I stood there without words.

Of course, I knew this wouldn't be easy. While, no, employers are not  allowed to discriminate against pregnant women, they find ways around it  all the time. All it takes is saying that there were more qualified  candidates and they're in the clear. So, did I know there was truth to  what Marco implied? Yes, but I couldn't let that stop me from trying.