The Pitch: City Love 2 (24 page)

Ten minutes later I left the doctor’s office in a daze.

My brain struggled to gain hold of the situation and my body felt like it was in shock. When I stepped out into the bright afternoon sunshine, I squinted and didn’t move.

Pregnant.

I tried to swallow but my mouth felt parched. I crossed the road with a group of office workers. It was the end of the day and the city was alive with the evening commute. It meant no one even gave me a second glance as I walked slowly through the crowds jostling around me.

How could I be pregnant?

Dr. Carmen explained that my pregnancy was likely to have occurred when I missed several of my pills. It would have been enough for my body to ovulate and then to conceive. The fact that my body had even managed to do that much was a puzzle to me. I’d spent the majority of my adult life assuming pregnancy was next to impossible, and the irony of accidentally falling pregnant was not lost on me.

I blinked away the tears threatening to fall and continued to walk in the general direction of the ferry terminal. Shouldn’t I feel happy? Instead I felt numb.

I waited at another set of traffic lights and looked down at the bunch of folded papers I held. Among them was a form to get a blood test and a referral to an obstetrician, which the doctor had suggested I do as soon as possible. She suspected my baby was seven or eight weeks, given the presence of a heartbeat.

Two months pregnant. How had I not even noticed?

Well, that wasn’t entirely true, I supposed. I’d assumed the aches and bloated stomach were due to my endometriosis, and that the overwhelming tiredness was from working long hours. I wasn’t completely clueless, just misguided.

When I arrived at Circular Quay, I stood and stared at the bustling scene in front of me. Yellow and green passenger ferries were coming and going from the quay. Office workers raced to catch them and the loud noise of the wash as the boats exited the terminal was almost deafening. The whoosh the water made reminded me of the sound of my baby’s heartbeat.

Several tears trailed down my cheek and I didn’t bother to brush them away. I walked past the ferry terminal to find a bench overlooking the harbor. The sun cast a golden glow on the water and the cream arches of the Opera House shone deep red.

I stuffed the papers into my handbag and watched my shaking hands for a long moment. As my brain attempted to understand how it had happened, the Madeleine I was all too familiar with shoved the thought brutally aside. I was pregnant. There was no debating it and I needed to deal with it.

Deal with it.

Oh my God, what did that mean? I wondered. Was I going to keep it?

Of course you’re going to keep it.

I brushed away another stray tear and stared out at the water again. How could I possibly keep it? I was running a business that employed twenty-five staff. I’d just spent the last four years dedicating myself to building up Grounded Marketing. I couldn’t turn my back on it.

But I couldn’t turn my back on this baby either. My hand came to rest hesitantly over my stomach.

I felt pulled in so many directions. I wasn’t a fool and I understood the reality of the situation. Paul didn’t want any more children. He’d made that expressly clear on numerous occasions.

I bit my lip to prevent a sob escaping. The irony of the situation was brutal. I’d left my last serious relationship because I’d refused to try for children with a man who had wanted them. Then I’d embarked on a relationship with Paul, knowing that he had no intention of having more children. I’d welcomed the situation because it worked for me. Me, the childless, career-obsessed young woman had finally found a man to share her life with … and now I’d gone and fallen pregnant.

Well, at least my mother would be happy. She’d been dying for grandchildren. It would take the pressure off Christa and Max too. And then I thought of Paul and the breath almost went out of me.

“Shit,” I whispered. What was I going to do? For now I could keep it a secret but it was going to become obvious before too long.

I had no idea how I’d manage my business when I had the baby, or how I was going to tell Paul. And he could leave me. The thought made my chest feel tight and I forced myself to breathe slowly and deliberately. Once my heart rate steadied, I picked up my handbag and headed toward the ferry.

First I was going to get a ferry home. Then I was going to pick up something for dinner. After that I was going to get a serious amount of sleep. Baby steps.

I laughed out loud at my unintentional joke and noticed a few people giving me strange looks. At least I could blame any weirdness on being a crazy pregnant lady. That was an unexpected bonus.

I swiped my ticket through the machine and walked down the ramp to the ferry, then chose a seat on the deck. The salt spray and fresh air would help with the shock. After a few minutes the ferry engine came to life and I felt the hum of the motor. I wondered if the baby could feel it.

Don’t be stupid
, the sensible part of my brain argued. The baby couldn’t feel anything yet, it was just a bunch of cells with a heartbeat at the moment.

The ferry hit a swell and the boat pitched, sending a wash of spray in my direction. The cool droplets of water hitting my face made me feel instantly better. I suddenly felt more awake.

I glanced down at my stomach. Regardless of how it happened, I was pregnant. And it was a miracle. A one-in-a-million shot at motherhood. It wasn’t what I’d planned. As for what I wanted, I’d never allowed myself to entertain the notion of becoming a mother before now, so that point was moot.

I held my stomach protectively as I started to accept one very important fact: this might be my only chance.

*

“We’re going for coffee.”

I flopped back into my nest of pillows and attempted not to groan into my mobile phone. “Sorry, Scarlett. I’m in recovery mode post campaign launch. I’m not going anywhere today.”

“I’ll come to you then. What sort of coffee do you want?”

“I don’t want coffee. It’ll have to be another time.”

“Seriously, woman. You’ve ignored me since New Year’s – which I can handle because you’ve been genuinely busy – but now I really need to talk to you.”

“Can’t you talk to Christa?”

“I’m starting to feel very wounded here, Spencer. What gives?” I could almost see her glaring at me down the phone line.

“Nothing gives,” I lied. “I’m just really exhausted, that’s all.”

“It’s coffee, not the gym.”

I sighed and studied the sunlight flickering on my ceiling. It was ten o’clock in the morning and I’d slept for over twelve hours. Somehow I still felt the weight of tiredness. “Just give me a day or two, then we’ll definitely catch up, okay?”

“I’ll give you half an hour for a shower, how’s that?”

“Scarlett,” I warned.

“You think I’m scared of you? What sort of coffee?”

“Latte,” I ground out. I really didn’t need this now. What I needed was time to get my head around my shambles of a life before I faced anyone.

“Got it. I’ll see you in about half an hour. I’ll bring food too.”

I glanced down at my stomach quickly. “Um …”

“What?”

“Make it a decaf.”

*

Scarlett was at least good to her word and gave me half an hour to appear suitable for human company. Hair washed and smelling fresh, I was dressed in casual pair of cream chinos and a hot pink shirt. The outfit had been my second choice.

Looking at myself in the mirror after my shower, I was shocked to see my breasts were fuller than usual. As for my waist, well that was a surprise too. It wasn’t like I’d developed a baby bump overnight – it was too early for that – but my hips and waist were noticeably fuller as well. Hence the loose fitting shirt and baggy chinos. My previous selection of leggings and a fitted top may as well have screamed “look at me!” so I’d gone for an understated approach.

How Paul hadn’t noticed during our hotel rendezvous before I learned the news, I had no idea. I suspected it had something to do with our fervor at seeing each other after more than a week. We’d been rushed and I was suddenly thankful.

My buzzer sounded and I padded along the cool floorboards to let in Scarlett.

The first thing she noticed were the dark circles underneath my eyes. “You look like you should go back to bed.”

I raised my eyebrows at her. “That was the plan until you interrupted me.”

Scarlett shoved a coffee in my direction. “I won’t stay long.”

“Just long enough,” I muttered, and she shot me a dark look.

“Drink your coffee. Why you wanted a decaf is beyond me. You should have gone for double strength.”

I ignored her and walked down the hallway to the living room. Scarlett followed and threw a brown paper bag onto the dining table.

“Knock yourself out,” she suggested.

I took a peek inside and noticed she’d purchased my favorite Danish pastry. I turned to her with a suspicious look. “What’s this for?”

She shrugged. “It was right next door to where I bought the coffees.”

That might be the case, but it involved Scarlett going to a degree of special effort, and I wasn’t born yesterday. “What do you want?”

She had the grace to look offended. “That’s harsh. I brought you coffee and food.”

“That doesn’t change the fact you want something.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes and made herself comfortable on one of the dining chairs. She pulled a croissant out of the bag and started picking at it. “I need someone to come to New York with me.”

“And who would this someone be?” I eyed her warily and sat down beside her.

“Why, you of course.”

I reached into the bag and removed the Danish. “For your exhibition?”

“Yes. It’s in May. Make as many useless excuses as you want, you’re coming with me.”

I cleared my throat quietly. “That’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“That’s why I’m telling you now.”

“As much as I’d like to come to New York with you – ” I began.

“You’re running your own business and there’s no way you can leave the country, blah, blah,
blah.
” Scarlett finished for me.

“Well, yes.”

“So what about our trip to Norway last year to visit Christa?”

Damn her. “That was different.”

“How?” Scarlett’s dark eyes smoldered.

I wasn’t pregnant then.
I sighed. “I’ve got the ACB account now.” It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“So you’re never going to take a holiday again? You seriously need to reconfigure your priorities.”

I didn’t say anything and instead took a large bite of the buttery pastry. God, it tasted good.

“It’s New York, Madeleine, and it’s for one week. You can make it happen.”

She was right. Ordinarily I’d have been able to make it happen, but with a surreptitious glance down at my stomach I knew it wasn’t going to be an option. “Not this time, sorry.”

Scarlett shoved her croissant back into the bag. “You’re not even going to try?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I can’t believe you won’t even consider it. This ACB account has really fucked you over in my opinion.”

I exhaled a long breath. There was some truth to her statement. “It’s been full on.”

“Which is why you need to stop becoming a slave to your clients. Isn’t that why you started your own business in the first place?”

“Partly. Look, I’m sorry to disappoint you but it can’t be helped this time. We’ll be right in the middle of preparing their mid-year campaign in May.” And I’d be about six months pregnant, but I still needed time to get my head around that.

“What bullshit.” Scarlett’s chair scraped on my floorboards as she stood and I winced.

“Have you asked Christa?”

Scarlett pouted at me. “No.”

“Then ask her.”

She threw my words back at me. “It’s not that simple.”

“What do you mean? I’m sure Christa would love to go.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she’d love to go to New York, but what about to my art exhibition?” Scarlett sat back down with a huff.

“You think she’ll be jealous?” It hadn’t even occurred to me.

Scarlett picked at her croissant again. “Maybe.”

“Your style of work is completely different. Don’t flatter yourself.”

I earned a glare for that. “You’ll fit in better.”

“Alright, I really have no idea where you’re going with this.”

“Think about it. Christa is
artistic
. The people attending the exhibition will think she’s an artist. You’re more like one of them.”

“One of them?”

Scarlett leaned in. “An art buyer. Smart, savvy, cashed up career types.”

I didn’t know whether to be flattered or offended. “Why is that a benefit?”

“Because you’ll be able to mix with them. You’ll be my woman on the inside.”

I sat back in my chair and regarded her with a look of disbelief. “You’re overthinking this.”

“No way.” Scarlett’s black eyes shone. “You’re a networking queen. Before you know it you’ll have half the business cards of the people attending. You’ll probably line up some potential clients while you’re at it too.”

“What happened to being content with small Sydney art shows?”

Scarlett grinned and took a big bite of her croissant. “I got over myself.”

I wasn’t sure if she’d gotten over herself or if her ego had inflated further. Still, there was no way I could go. “You’d better ask Christa.”

Scarlett’s grin faded. “You’re breaking my heart here.”

“It’s just as well you don’t have one.”

Scarlett looked genuinely shocked for a change. “Jesus, what’s up your ass?”

I sighed and ran a hand through my almost-dry hair. “I’m sorry. I’m just really tired.”

“All the more reason to come to New York with me.”

Would this woman never give up? “I
can’t!
I’m pregnant.” I clamped a hand over my mouth. What the hell? I had absolutely no intention of telling Scarlett my news, so why on earth had I just opened my big mouth? Exhaustion and screwed up pregnancy hormones were frying my brain.

“You’re fucking
what?
”