Marriage With Benefits(57)
Another couple joined them, and Cia was caught up in introductions instead of being forced to come up with a neutral response to Fran’s casually thrown out comment. It didn’t stop the notion from ricocheting through her head.
Kids. No, thank you.
Lucas’s warm hand settled at the small of her back as he talked shop to the couple who had asked Fran for an introduction. The wife needed larger office space for her CPA business. Cia smiled and nodded and pretended as though she wasn’t imagining how Lucas would approach fatherhood.
But she was.
He’d kiss her pregnant belly while peering up at her through those clear blue eyes. He’d treat her reverently, fetching her drinks and rubbing her feet.
When the baby cried at night, he’d smooth Cia’s hair back and tell her to stay in bed while he handled it. Later, he’d throw a ball for hours with a little dark-haired toddler. Lucas would label it fun and insist work could wait, even if it couldn’t.
As quickly as those wispy images materialized, they vanished in favor of much clearer images of flashing lights atop black-and-white squad cars and grim-faced policemen who knocked on the door in the middle of the night to utter the words, “I’m sorry. The accident was fatal. Your parents are gone.”
The only way she could guarantee that no child of hers would ever go through that was not to have any children. She tucked away the sudden, jagged longing for a life that would never be.
Fran’s friends wandered toward the dance floor, the wife clutching the business card Lucas had retrieved from a hard, silver case, and another well-dressed couple looking for a real estate broker promptly replaced them.
“This is my wife, Cia Wheeler,” Lucas said.
“Robert Graves,” the male half of the couple said and shook Cia’s hand. “Formerly Allende, right?”
“Right. Benicio Allende is my grandfather.”
Robert’s eyes grew a touch warmer. “I thought so. My company does the advertising for Manzanares. It keeps us hopping.”
“Oh?” Cia asked politely.
It never ceased to amaze her how people loved to name-drop and rub elbows because of her last name. Former last name. Robert Graves was no exception, prattling on about Abuelo’s shrewd negotiations and then switching gears to announce right then and there that he’d like to do business with Lucas. It wasn’t said, but it was clearly implied that he’d decided because of her.
She made Lucas stable. Connected. Exactly as they’d hoped this marriage would do.
The room spun. Was that why Lucas wanted to blow off the divorce? Because he didn’t need the Manzanares contract to save his business anymore but he did need her?
Not possible. A few paltry clients couldn’t compare to the coup of Manzanares. She’d done exhaustive research. She’d considered all the angles.
Except for the one where she worked hard to be an asset to her husband and succeeded.
No. He’d keep his word. He had a high ethical standard. Surely he’d return to form before too long. Lucas excelled at racing off to the next woman—his brother had even warned her of it.
Lucas didn’t want to give up sex. Fine. Neither did she, and compromise wasn’t a foreign word in her vocabulary. They could keep seeing each other on the sly after the divorce.
The idea loosened the clench of her stomach. She didn’t have to quit Lucas cold turkey, and, as a bonus, she would gain a little extra time to shut off all these unwelcome feelings she’d been fighting.
As soon as the Graves couple coasted out of earshot, Fran signaled a waiter, and Andy Wheeler joined the group in time to take a champagne flute from the gilded tray.
“A toast,” Lucas’s dad suggested with a raised glass. “To all the new developments and those yet to be born.”
Cia raised her glass and took a healthy swallow.
“Oh, you’re drinking,” Fran said with obvious disappointment. “I guess there’s no news yet.”
Lucas flashed a wolfish smile in Cia’s direction. “You’ll be the second to know, Mama.”
“Why do I feel like you’re talking in code?” Cia whispered to Lucas.
“I might have casually mentioned we’re trying to get pregnant,” Lucas whispered back. “Don’t worry. It’s just window dressing.”
“Window dressing?” Cia said at normal volume, too startled to rein in her voice. “What kind of window dressing is that?”
“Excuse us for a moment, please.” Lucas nodded at his parents and dragged Cia away by the waist to an unpopulated corner of the room.
“Pregnant? Really?” she hissed and blinked against the scarlet haze over her vision. “No wonder your mom stopped by for tea and chatted me up about identity and being called ‘Mama.’”