Ruthless(15)

Keep in mind that this banter was taking place in front of our families. And don’t get me wrong, I was flattered. Flattered that someone obviously sexy, charming and handsome was interested in me, going so far as to jokingly act on it in front of an audience. But was I interested? No. Despite my threats, Matt just wasn’t competition for his brother. Jake was arrogant, domineering, totally controlling … and absolutely irresistible.

I knew I needed to tell Jake about the baby though. I was about four months along and still relatively normal looking, my tummy protruding slightly but not obscenely. I’m a curvy girl, and a little extra here or there wasn’t going to stand out. Plus, who’s going to notice when you’re having a quickie in the restroom? There was no time to check out my body inch by inch.

But I was still freaked out about the prospect of confronting him with my pregnancy because I’ve already decided that I’m going to be a mom. This baby is just too precious, and I was getting older – I might never have another chance at motherhood.#p#分页标题#e#

So my mind was made up but the repercussions terrifying. As I gazed at myself in the mirror, I let my mind wander to possible outcomes. On the one hand, Jake could be okay with it and he’d let me lead my own life, maybe seeing the baby once or twice a year. Although disappointing, I recognized that that was a very real possibility. Not everyone wants to bother with the pitter-patter of tiny feet.

On the other, it could be utter disaster. Jake could demand that I have a second-trimester abortion and I’d have to fight him about it. I’m not sure where the law stands on this issue, but I was almost too frightened to look it up. There were just no good outcomes in this scenario in any way, shape, or form.

But I shook my head, mentally trying to rid myself of any misgivings. Today was the day I was going to Jake’s office to break the news, and I hoped the professional atmosphere would restrain him. Surely, he wouldn’t break into a rage in front of his employees? He would maintain his composure, maybe give me a tongue-lashing privately behind closed doors, but there would be no yelling or public scene … I hoped.

I did one last check in front of the mirror and sighed. It would have to be enough. Money was tight and I didn’t have the funds to splurge on a fancy outfit, so I’d gone with a khaki dress that was plain but appropriate. I tried to cinch the cloth belt a little tighter, but the canvas was snug against my burgeoning tummy and I sighed again. Well, at least today was a good hair day, my curls glossy and shiny.

Pulling into the parking lot of Sterling Pharmaceuticals, there were a lot of fancy cars, but at least there wasn’t a sports car with the license plate “1 CEO 1” or anything like that. I would have died if Jake was that type of guy … the new money dude who buys flashy toys for himself right and left.

“Hi, I’m here to see Jake Sterling,” I mumbled to the receptionist. But I stopped myself. The shy pansy act wasn’t going to cut it and I needed to display some courage, if only by speaking louder. “Ms. Walsh to see Mr. Sterling please,” I announced assertively.

“Of course,” said the receptionist. “Please make yourself comfortable and I’ll see if he’s available.”

I took a seat in the lounge, prepared to wait ten or fifteen minutes if necessary. But to my surprise the receptionist called me immediately.

“Ms. Walsh, Mr. Sterling is ready to see you now, please follow me.”

I grabbed my purse and trailed her to a surprisingly nondescript set of doors. The paint was grey and there was nothing indicating that it might belong to a powerful executive. But once the doors swung open … I saw that the plain exterior was just a ruse.

The office inside was three times the size of my entire apartment. There were gadgets everywhere, plus an entire wall devoted to cabinets, the niches filled with knickknacks and multitudes of awards. But before I could get a closer look, Jake strode forward, his giant form intimidating, his blue eyes sweeping over me, not missing a detail.

“Thank you, Mary Beth, please bring some coffee for our guest,” he rumbled.

“No coffee, just water, thanks,” I interjected quickly. My quick response surprised the man.

“Can we offer you something else? Soda? Tea?” he asked, one eyebrow quirked.

“No thanks,” I replied faintly. Pregnant women can’t drink caffeine and I guess this was the perfect opening but somehow I couldn’t say anything. Instead, I waited until the receptionist left to turn back to the massive man, his big form now leaning casually against his desk.