Forever Starts Tomorrow (17 page)

What better time for more good news, she thought sarcastically, reaching for it now and lifting her body from the floor. She fumbled with the bag, only to give up and rip the plastic. The small blue box that fell out into her sink looked innocent enough. She stared at it for a moment, the cheerful print that promised reliable results doing little to calm her down—quite the opposite, really.

The next twenty minutes felt like forever. Melanie couldn’t make herself sit and watch the little screen, waiting for the blue lines to appear. She stripped her pajamas and stepped into the shower, desperate for any kind of distraction. She took her time, washing her hair and applying her favorite conditioner, the scent of coconut and pineapple, which she usually loved, sending her to the toilet again.

Finally, she was ready; the stalling felt ridiculous. She had put on her favorite blue dress, a short, sleeveless sheath that always lifted her spirits. Her hair was still wet, hanging down her back in long rattails, but she couldn’t stand the idea of blow-drying it at that moment.

She peeked at the screen, her heart thudding in her chest like the blades of a chopper. And then it stopped for a second, her whole body freezing as she stared at the two blue lines, crisp and unmistakable against the white backdrop.

She was pregnant. She and Scott were having a baby. A quick calculation confirmed that it would probably happen in about eight months. Melanie had plenty of time to tell him, she thought, throwing the kit into the wastebasket and stepping out of the bathroom.

Coward
, her conscience whispered,
trying to buy yourself time, to avoid the unavoidable.

She couldn’t tell him then. Not when he was still recovering from the shock of his father’s death and José’s existence. The funeral was tomorrow, for God's sake. Between Scott's efforts to get Raoul to accept his help, figuring out how to be a brother to José, and supervising the final stages of a project that would redefine his company, the last thing he needed was to learn she was pregnant.

She glanced at her closed laptop and her heart sank even lower. She had to wonder if Scott had seen the article already. If he had, he’d be furious, no doubt.

As if conjured by her thoughts, there was a knock on the door. She rushed to it, almost tripping in her hurry. It must have been Scott, of course. Who else would come and visit at—she glanced at the clock—at eight in the morning?

It wasn’t Scott. Instead of his dark, elegant presence, she opened her door to Eric, his blond, blue-eyed charm falling flat on her disappointed heart.

‘Hi.’ He smiled, white teeth glistening in his deeply tanned face. He could star in a tanning-oil ad, she thought spitefully, instantly ashamed by her bitchiness. It wasn’t his fault that she was in a rotten mood.

‘Come in.’ She stepped aside, her nostrils taking in the faint scent of coconut clinging to his skin. She could only hope she wouldn’t throw up again. It would be really embarrassing, and she wouldn't be able to explain to him that her favorite scent had turned into a trigger for a serious case of morning sickness.

‘Look, sorry to come so unexpectedly.’ Eric didn’t waste any time. His blue eyes darted around her place, lingering on the boxes for a second or two, before he looked back to her, his expression apologetic. ‘I know I should have called first. I just got your message last night and thought that maybe I could manage to change your mind?’

Right. She had completely forgotten all about it. She had called him to cancel on the party he'd invited her to the last time they'd spoken. She probably hadn't needed to go to the trouble, given his easygoing nature. Still, she hated when people left her in limbo with invitations, and she felt the need to leave him a message and decline.

‘I don’t think so.’ He sat down almost exactly in the same spot where Scott used to sit every time he came over. For a second, she felt the childish urge to ask him to sit somewhere else, but she offered him a cup of coffee instead.

‘We have our plates full at the moment.’ She sighed as she put the mug in front of him, black and strong. ‘Sam can probably come, though. She and Brad could use a break from their work.’

‘Maybe.’ He didn’t seem particularly worried about her friend, which came as a surprise after the warm welcome he'd given her when they met in the restaurant. ‘I have to say, I was mostly hoping you’d come. You could probably use a break yourself, right?’

As she looked at him, not sure what he was getting at, he sighed, his beautiful mouth turned down.

‘I’ve seen the paper. What a mess.’

Her cheeks heated, and she almost spilled her tea, her fingers shaking as she put it down. Damn, the news spread fast. To think that Eric had read the sordid story made her even more furious at the paper. She could only begin to imagine how Scott would feel about it too.

‘Well, it’s all rubbish anyway.’ She gave a swift, brittle smile that meant nothing. ‘Someone trying to smear Scott to get publicity. Not a very good attempt, if you ask me. The story is so far-fetched and ridiculous, no one will believe it.’ She sipped her tea, burning her lips in the process. ‘And whoever does, it’s their loss.’

‘I was worried you’d be upset about the story of his girlfriend.’ Eric leaned back, and she had to wonder why he would mention that in the first place, if he really cared about her feelings. ‘Are you all right? You look positively sick, darling.’

‘Vanessa?’ She shrugged nonchalantly, resisting the urge to spill her tea in his lap. ‘Why would I? We all have our past, right? I can’t be seriously jealous about that, Eric. Scott is thirty-four, and it would be more scary if he hadn’t had a girlfriend before me, wouldn’t it?’ Good—she'd managed to turn it into a playful jibe. Eric’s features folded obediently into a smile.

‘Very true.’ He sipped his coffee, watching her over the rim of his cup. ‘I just thought that was the reason you moved out of his place. At least that was what Sam said.’

Damn Sam and her big mouth. Of course she had filled him in. Her friend had always had a soft spot for Eric, lamenting many times their breakup. She had probably even hoped that they would get back together. Why, otherwise, would she have mentioned it to him at all?

‘Not at all.’ Melanie made a mental note to call Sam the minute he left and tell her exactly what she thought about her meddling in her life. ‘Sam should know it, too. I love Scott very much. I just find that sometimes it's good to have a bit of a break to think, that’s all.’ It didn’t make sense, but she hoped he wouldn’t push her for details.

‘So, you still plan on marrying him?’ he asked, his blue eyes watchful. ‘No hope for me at all?’

He couldn’t be serious. He had been away for over two years, never as much as calling or sending a card.

‘Of course I do.’ The words hung in the air between them. As soon as she spoke them, her heart leapt, the truth hitting her like the pelting of hail during a summer storm. She loved Scott and wanted to marry him, more so than anything else in the world. No matter what happened and no matter what obstacles were put in their way, Melanie wanted to be with that man more than anything she had ever wanted in her life.

They chatted for a while, Eric’s concern for her well-being making it hard to politely finish the conversation. She felt her impatience growing, her toes curling as she wished for nothing more than to get up and go see Scott. He’d be in his office, he'd said. The final phase of the project had been implemented overnight, and he’d be there. She had a strong suspicion that, given all that had happened in the last few days, he was seeking refuge in the place he considered his home from home.

She listened to Eric bash the article, surprised at how many details he actually remembered. It felt a bit sick to hear him so invested in what wasn’t his life at all. They might have dated in the past, but she thought that he'd have moved on, the way she had.

Finally, he seemed to tire himself out. Melanie watched him finish his coffee and get up, her patience rewarded. Once he left, she would be off, too. She couldn’t refuse when he asked to use her bathroom, unfortunately. Still, if it meant his departure, she’d gladly put up with the request. She started to collect the cups as she heard him open the bathroom door, a farewell smile already on her lips.

She was a bit too optimistic, though.

‘Did you talk to Scott about it already?’ He was still lingering in the doorway, his eyes concerned. ‘I was curious how he reacted to the story? I thought that the part about him rejecting poor Dolores Martin was kind of tough to get through. Still, even with such negative spin, he’s got publicity. The man of the hour, right?’ He grinned at her, the mask of concern slipping for a split second. She felt cold, as if a cloud blocked the sun, her skin covering with goose bumps. Eric enjoyed it, she realized with a sinking feeling, her confused brain trying to make sense of the situation. He actually enjoyed talking about the story, his probing and questions taking an unhealthy, sick turn she hadn't seen coming up to that very moment. He recovered instantly, the moment of truth so fleeting she had to ask herself if it had actually happened or if she was getting paranoid.

‘No, we didn’t talk at all.’ Melanie shook her head, her arms crossed in front of her chest. She wanted him gone, the sooner the better. Deep inside her a tendril of suspicion came to life, slow yet insistent. She wanted to be alone to think things through, away from his curious eyes. ‘Do you really think that such garbage can be positive in any way?’ She was getting mad, his insensitive words irking her more than they should. She couldn’t explain it to herself, but it felt as if she was staring at a puzzle, unable to figure out what was missing.

He must have realized she was done with their conversation, because he hugged her quickly, mumbling something about getting together whenever she wanted company. For a man who was so intent on discussing her life, he had suddenly become very rushed. If she hadn't known any better, she’d have said he wanted to get out before she could ask any more questions. Well, it served him right to be on the other side of the grilling panel. Melanie closed the door, her legs shaking.

It was only when she was gathering the cups, putting them into the dishwasher, that she suddenly froze in her tracks, the veil falling off and the truth revealed. How did he know about Dolores? The article never mentioned her full name. She had been described as his father’s second wife. There was no way Eric had figured it out from the story.

He knew exactly who Dolores was. He knew because somehow, he was involved in the publication. It was the only explanation—a far-fetched one, but still plausible. Melanie recalled his apprenticeship in the local paper when he was younger, years before they started dating. He'd told her he wanted to be a writer or reporter for an entertainment channel. He had even applied for multiple jobs in the field, the lack of positive response one of the main reasons he decided to go to Asia. She had forgotten all about it, of course.

Suddenly, she felt sick again. Eric had duped her into believing that he actually cared about her feelings. He'd played the ‘past relationship’ card in order to extract information not only from her, but also—and most importantly—from Sam. Melanie felt furious as she imagined how he must have baited her friend, using her trust and friendship.

She moaned in agony as she recalled his trip to her bathroom. Had he dug through her rubbish? If he had, he’d have found the pregnancy test, of course. She didn’t dare to think of it. If Eric had really helped to create that trashy article, he’d have no qualms about using his newfound information to add more sensational facts to the story. She could only imagine Scott and his family finding out about it from yet another story, bent on humiliating him with its outrageous claims.

………….

She pulled into a parking spot in front of Scott's office, her hands flying as she closed the car and grabbed her bag. The complex of buildings looked deceptively simple, the white, modern walls shaded by gnarled branches of Californian oaks. The lawn in front of the main building was perfectly green and even, a modern sculpture breaking up its simple expanse. Melanie walked up the stairs, adrenaline fueling her steps. The glass door relented to the push of her impatient hand, and she was greeted by the gentle sound of the waterfall that spilled into the indoor pond gracing the lobby.

The concierge greeted her, his round face beaming. She didn’t come to Scott’s work often, but she knew most of the people working here, from his partners to the security guards.

‘Scott is upstairs in his office,’ the man informed her, his brown gaze warm. ‘May I say that you look particularly lovely today?’

‘Absolutely yes.’ She bit back a smile. The older man always flirted with her outrageously, to the point that Scott declared his jealousy.

‘I’ll find him there.’ She nodded toward the upper level, the modern metal staircase suspended in a swirly, shell-like pattern. She was still amazed by the ambience of the place. Through the huge glass walls of the lower level, Melanie could see open areas filled with people. She'd expected to see Scott there, she thought, disappointed. He liked to mingle with what he called ‘his crowd.’

The upstairs was quiet, the carpeted hallway swallowing the sound of her footsteps. She knew the way to Scott's office. Even if she didn’t, his voice would have guided her to it, the loud conversation audible all the way to the stairs.

‘I don’t care what crap it says about me.’ Scott sounded murderous, and Melanie slowed down, her palms sweating. He was furious. ‘It’s about Melanie and José, Josh. There is no way in hell they’ll be dragged through this shit just so someone can get back at me.’

A pause. Melanie held her breath, waiting. When Scott spoke again, she realized that he must have been on the phone. Good. She had a feeling that their conversation might not go according to plan, given his mood. The fewer witnesses, the better.

She waited for a second, trying to calm her heartbeat. It wasn’t her fault, she reminded herself sternly. She hadn't encouraged Eric to do any of it, and Scott had to see that. Only, would he?