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“What do you think Hugh will say when I tell him?” she asked, her voice sounding unusually small.
That was a no-win question. The Hugh he knew was probably the last person who wanted a kid, especially with someone who couldn’t advance his career. Bia was salt of the earth, the tenacious girl-next-door type. A woman any normal guy would fall over himself to be with. She was smart, funny and loyal to those she cared about. And he’d realized too late that he’d loved her all his life.
“I think what’s more important is what you’re going to say. How you pose it to him sets the tone for his response.”
She opened her mouth but closed it again, sitting back against the banquette and sighing. “I don’t know what to say.” She threw up her hands and let them fall into her lap.
“Tell him the truth. Cut-and-dry.”
“Hi, Hugh. It’s Bia Anderson. Remember me? No? Well, I was your Celebration, Texas, tour guide. Yeah, right, that one. The one your people offered to pay to be quiet. Funny thing, I’m pregnant. Yeah, that’s right. You and I are going to be parents. Isn’t that great news? I’m sure that’s changed your mind about me—makes me so much more attractive, doesn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve got nothing, Aiden.”
He didn’t know what to say. Usually, Bia had no problem saying what was on her mind. That’s what made her a good reporter and had gotten her the top job at the paper. It was a rare circumstance that she was hesitant to make a call or speak her mind.
Of course Bia didn’t know what to say. She didn’t play contrived Hollywood games, which was one of the many things that Aiden loved about her. It was why this was so hard for her.
“Let’s think about this,” he said. “He’ll probably be shocked. Be prepared for that. He might need some time to digest things before he’s able to wrap his mind around it.”
Bia chewed her thumbnail.
“And there’s always Kristin. If he’s really in love with her, this is going to make things pretty rocky for them. If he told her the tour guide story, she’ll probably be pretty upset.”
Bia snorted. “Heaven forbid we upset Kristin Capistrano.”
Aiden held up his hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to help.”
“I know you are. I’m sorry.”
“There’s always the possibility that they’re not in love,” he offered. “At least not with each other. They’re filming a movie together in a few weeks. The relationship is good press. Just watch. But be prepared. He may want to keep things quiet about the baby until after the premiere. Don’t be surprised.”
Bia blanched. “That could be a year.”
Aiden touched her arm. It was warm and soft. Her skin broke out into goose flesh on contact. He tried not to read anything into that. Instead, he reminded himself that she was pregnant. With another man’s child. Somehow, that just made him feel more protective of her.
“But if he’s any sort of human being, he will man-up in due time.”
They sat quietly for a moment. The only sound in the kitchen was the hum of the refrigerator and the faint tick of the old-fashioned red enamel rooster clock that hung over the banquette.
“I know I’ve already told you this, but my dad did a great job raising me. Still, I always felt as if I were missing out because I didn’t have two parents. A kid deserves two parents.”
“You’re preaching to the choir,” Aiden said. “Your dad was more of a father to me than my own.”
Aiden’s dad had left the family when Aiden was nine years old. The age where every boy needs a father figure most. Aiden had spent more time at the Andersons’ house hanging out with Bia’s dad, Hank, than at his own. Hank had taught him how to throw a football, taken him fishing and taught him how to drive a car with a manual transmission.
“If Hugh wants to be part of the baby’s life—or even better, if he wants to make a life with us—I’d be willing to consider it.”
Aiden had to grit his teeth to keep from telling her not to count on it. Because Aiden knew if he said it, he’d be the bad guy. The jerk. No, he’d just keep quiet and let Hugh speak for himself. Maybe the guy would surprise everyone. Fat chance, but stranger things had happened.
“So, you’d be willing to make that sacrifice, huh? Living with the sexiest man alive? Wow, you’re such a martyr, Princess. Such a martyr.”
She rolled her eyes at him. Then she nestled into the crook between his arm and shoulder, that place where she fit so well.
“What’s next, after you call Hugh?”
“I have a doctor’s appointment Thursday.”
“What time?”
“Why?”
“I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to do that, Aiden.”
“I know, but I want to. I’ll be there for you, for moral support.
* * *
Cell phone in hand, Bia went into the bedroom and shut the door. Aiden was waiting in the kitchen. He’d said he understood that she needed to be alone when she made the call.
She wondered if he was standing guard, making sure she actually went through with it. She eyed the window, contemplating crawling out of it. But she knew that although she might be able to run away now, she’d never be able to escape the truth. She might as well make the call while Aiden was there. Besides, he would know if she chickened out. He had this uncanny way of reading her.
After what had happened with Maya yesterday, she wondered if she was too much of an open book or too transparent, but that had never been the case before. In fact, if anything, most people accused her of being too closed, too prickly. Maya’s correct guess that Bia was pregnant had been a fluke. That’s all there was to it. She would just need to make sure Maya didn’t say anything to anyone else. She would go talk to her again later that week.
But right now, first things first. She needed to make the call.
Her hand was shaking as she picked up the phone and pulled up Hugh’s number in her contacts. She wanted to laugh at the irony—how many women would pay to have Hugh Newman’s private number, to hear his voice over the line? But this was a call that she dreaded more than any she’d ever placed.
She stared at her phone screen for a moment, at the ten-digit number and the small thumbnail photo of Hugh’s face in the top left-hand corner of the page.
Her finger hovered over the call button, but she was paralyzed. She couldn’t press it.
Maybe she should send him a certified letter?
Right.
That was the big chicken’s way out. She didn’t know what address to send it to, and, even if she did, she had no guarantee he would be the one to open it—certified letter or not. The rules that applied to the little people didn’t always hold true for people like Hugh and his set.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” she muttered under her breath. “Just call and get it over with.”
Her shaking finger came down hard on the call button. She held the phone to her ear before she could change her mind. For a few seconds, there was no sound and she was just about ready to pull the phone back and make sure she’d actually dialed the number. But before she could, she heard the ring, distant and tinny.
Bia paced the length of the room as the phone rang...four times before an automated attendant picked up. A generic, robotic voice informed her, “The person at this number is not available. Please leave your name and number after the tone.”
Not even a promise that the person would call back at his convenience. But the one thing that robo-attendant did get right was that Hugh was not available—not physically or emotionally.
Bia hung up. No way was she going to leave such a personal message on his voice mail. For that matter, she didn’t even know if the number still belonged to him.
She slumped down on the bed and stared at the phone’s flat black screen.
Now what?
She should’ve known that he wouldn’t pick up. Why would he? It wasn’t as if he’d been waiting for her to call. She half expected to get a call back from his assistant, the one who had offered to pay her off—
That gave her an idea.
She brought up her call log and scrolled through it. Sure enough, there was the assistant’s California number. What if she called him and asked him to have Hugh call her back? That it was a matter of great importance... Yeah, but there was no way she would make it past the guard dog without revealing what the call was about.
Wait a minute.... She stood up. Recently the paper had run a story on a phone app that manufactured disposable cell phone numbers, but for the life of her she couldn’t remember the name of the company. She hadn’t written the story. She’d edited it and probably seventy-five other articles since then. Still, she knew how she could find it. She called up the phone’s browser and typed “how to disguise your cell number.” The first link at the top of the list was for the company the paper had profiled.
She downloaded the app, got a disposable number with a California area code and dialed Hugh again.
Miracle of miracles, he picked up on the second ring.
“Hugh Newman.”
It was now or never.
“Hugh, this is Bia Anderson. From Celebration, Texas.”
There was complete silence on the other end of the line.
“Please don’t hang up. I don’t want anything from you, but I do have to tell you that I’m pregnant and you’re the father.”
She heard him exhale. At least he was still there. He’d gotten the message.
“This is a bad time.” His voice was heavy with annoyance. “I’ll call you back.”
Chapter Three
The message was waiting for Maya when she logged into the Facebook page she had set up for Maya’s Chocolates.
Hello, Maya! I’m so happy to learn that you are opening a shop in the United States. I had the pleasure of tasting your chocolate almost thirty years ago when I was in St. Michel. And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since. I will be in the Dallas area next week and I will stop in and say hello. Charles Jordan
While she wasn’t inundated with fan mail, she did get a piece now and again. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the message. Except for the line, And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since. Something about the turn of those words had been haunting her.
They called to mind a man she had known long ago. Actually, it was about twenty-nine or thirty years ago that Ian had been in her life. Huh. Another coincidence. But he’d disappeared just as fast as he’d appeared and swept her off her feet.
The memory weighed heavily on her heart.
Maya clicked on Charles Jordan’s name, eager to see if she could find any more information on his profile page. But he didn’t have a photo of himself for his profile picture. Instead, he had a generic picture of a snowcapped mountain range.
The page had been created a couple of years ago, but there hadn’t been much activity. There were no other pictures and his list of friends was not open for the public to view.
Maya grappled with an uneasy feeling. Mr. Jordan’s words, And sure if it hasn’t been haunting me ever since, rang in her mind. In her head, she’d heard them in Ian’s voice. They were as clear as if he’d spoken them an hour ago.
Ian Brannigan. Her Irishman. Her love.
He’d simply left one day, never called and never come back. For a long time, she had been so numb she could barely function. Then she had gotten angry. That’s when she’d called his family in Dublin for contact information. Even though several years had passed by that point, Maya had been ready for an explanation. That’s when the real heartbreak started. His mother had delivered the sad news that Ian was dead. He’d died in an accident on his way home from France.
That’s why he’d never called. That’s why the future she’d hoped they would have together never happened. That’s why she’d never been able to fall in love with anyone else.
Ian had taken the largest part of her heart with him on that cold October day. And the rest of it had died nine months later when the nurse took their baby girl from her arms and whisked her away.
She was barely eighteen years old. She wasn’t married, and the baby’s father had obviously abandoned them. Or at least that’s what everyone had thought then. But he hadn’t abandoned them. It was both crushing and vindicating to learn that Ian hadn’t abandoned them. He hadn’t even known that she was carrying his child when he’d kissed her goodbye that last time.
However, that didn’t change the fact that Maya was an unwed teenage mother, a disgrace to her family.
Her mother and grandmother made arrangements for her to go away for a while. She was allowed to come back after the baby was born. That way no one would ever be the wiser, the family name would be saved and they could hold their heads up high.
Maya knew that she could hope all she wanted to, but this Charles Jordan, no matter the imagined similarities, was not her Ian Brannigan.
Once again, Maya clicked on the message balloon icon and reread Charles Jordan’s message. She was just about to type a quick reply when she heard a knock at the front door.
She wasn’t expecting anyone, but she made her way from the kitchen to the front of the store to see who was calling. To her surprise, it was Bia.
Things had ended on such a horrific note the other day that Maya quite honestly thought it would be a very long time before she heard from Bia again.
She gave a friendly wave to test the waters. To her relief, Bia waved back, even if she wasn’t smiling. The wave had to be a good sign. At least she hoped it was. She would find out soon enough, she thought, as she opened the door and greeted Bia with the warmest American greeting she could muster. She didn’t give her the customary French greeting, a kiss on each cheek. She had a feeling she needed to tread lightly.
“Hello!” Maya said. “I am so happy to see you. I wasn’t expecting you after what happened yesterday. I’m so sorry, Bia. But I’m so glad you’ve come back.”
Interesting, Maya pondered. First, I’m thinking of Ian, and now Bia shows up. Perhaps the universe is trying to tell me something.
But given this second chance and how easily Bia was frightened off yesterday, Maya was determined to take things slowly. She would build the relationship before she broke the news.
* * *
“I’m sorry I overreacted yesterday,” Bia said. “But I have to ask—and I need an honest answer—how did you know I’m pregnant?”
Maya shrugged. “Intuition, I suppose.”
“So, it was a lucky guess,” Bia replied.
“If that’s what you would prefer to call it. Shall we go into the kitchen where we can sit down and talk? I’ll make you a cup of hot chocolate. You need your calcium.”
Bia held her ground. “First, I need your word that you will not tell a soul about this. If you think the media went crazy when they thought Hugh and I were seeing each other, this will blow up in both of our faces. Especially after he lied about the nature of our...acquaintance.”
Maya’s brow creased in a look of what seemed to be genuine concern. “Of course you have my word. This is a very private matter. I want you to know that I am here for you. I promise I will not do anything to put you or your baby in emotional jeopardy.”
“I need to ask you something, and, again, you must give me an honest answer.”
Maya nodded. “Please. Anything.”
“Have you ever said anything to the press about my previous relationship with Hugh Newman?”
Maya recoiled and looked genuinely shocked by the question. A good sign, as far as Bia was concerned. Still, she had to look Maya in the eyes as she asked. Just as Maya had a sixth sense about people, Bia could intuit when people were lying. Bia’s gut was telling her that Maya was telling the truth.
Maya put her right hand over her heart. “I swear to you. I have not said one word. I did see the two of you together at the Doctor’s Ball, but I would never gossip about you. I would swear this on my mother’s and grandmother’s graves.”
“Thank you, Maya. I believe you. And I believe that you will keep your word about not talking to a soul other than me about my current situation.”
Maya held up her right hand. “I solemnly swear. Now, let’s have some hot chocolate. Yes?”
Maya’s version of hot chocolate was like nothing Bia had ever tasted before. It was nearly as thick as melted chocolate and tasted so good it curled Bia’s toes.
Le chocolat chaud, Maya called it.
Bia called it divine. She had to pace herself to keep from gulping it. To that end, she tried to employ some of the tasting principles that Maya had taught her yesterday. She sipped the drink and let the warm liquid flow over her tongue.
“Umm, is that cinnamon I taste?”
Maya nodded.
“There’s something else I can’t quite identify....” Bia closed her eyes and rolled the liquid around on her palate.
“I added a tiny dash of cayenne and a few flecks of fleur de sel.”
“Salt and pepper,” Bia noted wryly.
Maya laughed her laugh that seemed to set Bia at ease, and the world seemed a little brighter. Bia didn’t have many close girlfriends. She’d always related better to guys. She simply didn’t enjoy the drama that always seemed to go hand in hand with women. On occasion, Bia had been accused of being too direct—one of the qualities that made her a good reporter, of course. But Maya hadn’t been offended by Bia’s head-on approach. Come to think of it, Maya had been pretty direct herself yesterday.
At least they understood each other.
“Have you had a chance to think about what you’re going to do?” Maya asked.
“About?”
“The baby, of course.”
“I’m having this baby. I’m twenty-eight years old. I can handle it. I was adopted. Actually, I just found out a few months ago, just before my adoptive father passed away. I had a good childhood despite my adoptive mother dying when I was five. Her husband—my father—never remarried. So, essentially, I grew up without a mother. My father was very good to me, but I can’t help but wonder lately why my birth mother didn’t want me. I have no information about her. I’m not sure whether I should go digging or not.”
“I’m sure she would be thrilled to connect with you,” Maya said. “At least you’ll never know until you try.”
“What? Is that your intuition speaking? I can’t be sure that she would be thrilled. I mean, she gave me up. For all I know, she might have a family of her own. They might not know about me. I might be that unwelcome surprise from her past popping up at the most inopportune time.”
“But you can’t be certain of that, either. For all you know, you could be missing out on a second chance at family.”
Bia shrugged. “But there’s no way to know that for certain.”
“There’s no way to know that you won’t walk out of here and get hit by a car, but the likelihood of disaster is slim. What I’m saying is, if you are open to having your birth mother in your life— Are you?”
Bia nodded.
“Good, then keep an open mind. I think it would be especially important to meet her now that you have a little one on the way. For that matter, have you talked to the father?”
Bia grimaced. “I spoke to Hugh briefly. Told him the situation. He told me it wasn’t a good time to talk and that he would call me back. But he hasn’t. I don’t really expect him to.”
Thoughtfully, Maya ran her finger around the rim of her demitasse cup. “At the risk of—how do you say it—sticking my nose in where it doesn’t belong? Hugh Newman may be the father of your child, but he is not the right man for you.”
“Story of my life,” Bia murmured.
“Make no mistake, there is someone out there for you. He is already in your life. You simply must learn to see what is right in front of you.”
* * *
Thursday afternoon, Aiden was leaning against his car, which was parked in the lot of Bia’s doctor, waiting for her to arrive.
When she finally did, she got out of her car and said, “Aiden, you’re here? I told you not to come.”
Her words said one thing, but the way she said them confirmed that he’d been right to not let her face her first doctor’s appointment alone.
“I thought you might want some moral support.”
She smiled. “I’m a big girl, Aiden. I can handle this.” Then she hugged him and whispered, “Thanks for being here. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
He put his arm around her as they walked from the parking lot into the lobby. To the untrained eye, they probably looked like a happy couple eager to get the lowdown on their first child. He could play that role, especially if Hugh wasn’t going to.
“Have you heard from Hugh?”
She stiffened, pulled away ever so slightly. “No. But he knows. And he knows how to reach me and where to find me.”
“Ball’s in his court, then,” Aiden said as he opened the office door and stood back so Bia could enter.
Two other women, both obviously further along in their pregnancies than Bia, waited. Both had men with them, and Aiden was instantly reassured that he’d made the right decision to come along. No doubt Bia would’ve soldiered through on her own, but she shouldn’t have to face this alone.
“I’m going to go sign in,” she said. “Go ahead and sit down and I’ll be right back...with mountains of paperwork, no doubt.”
He sat down in a chair across from one of the couples. The woman looked as if she were smuggling a basketball under her dress. Aiden looked away, trying to imagine what Bia would look like that far along. She’d be gorgeous.
“Is this your first child?” the woman asked.
“Uhh...” Obviously, she’d caught him staring. But she didn’t seem annoyed or put off. Her husband was reading the newspaper and didn’t seem to notice that Aiden had been scoping out his wife’s belly. Good thing.
Rather than dive headlong into an explanation, he simply said, “Yes. It is.” After all, he hadn’t been party to another pregnancy before. She hadn’t asked him if he was the father.
“Congratulations to you and your wife.” She beamed at him and clasped her hands over her belly. “You have some exciting months ahead of you. Years actually. Kids will change your life.”
Yep. So I’ve heard.
He nodded. Pondering the thought of Bia as his wife as she walked toward him, clipboard in hand. She stirred in him a feeling that was equal parts primal lust and Cro-Magnon protective. He’d always been attracted to her. Hell, if he were honest with himself, he’d admit that he’d always been in love with Bia Anderson.
He just hadn’t been able to admit it to himself until his roommate Duane had taken an interest in her at that party their freshman year of college. He couldn’t remember who threw the party or what the occasion was, but he would never forget what she looked like standing there kissing Duane. At that moment, something inside him shifted and snapped into place. By the time he finally woke up and realized what had been under his nose all his life, she was off-limits. So, Aiden had settled for a friendship because it was better to have her in his life under restricted terms than not at all.
Duane never had treated her right. He used to think Aiden was joking when he said things like, “Too bad you saw her first, man,” and “If you don’t treat her right, I’m going to take her away from you.” They would all laugh and then Aiden would try to get interested in some other girl. Inevitably, those relationships never worked out. Bia thought he was the world’s biggest player. And he would laugh it off and say, “None of them compare to you.”
And she thought he was joking.
He’d come here, taken the Catering to Dallas gig, to be near her. Things had been going well between them. The best way to describe them was platonic with chemistry. They were solid, and he wanted to take things slowly, let the relationship develop naturally. And then Hugh Newman came to town, proving it had been a dumb idea to take things slowly. It had been a grave miscalculation to not move at the speed of Hugh.
As Bia sat down in the chair next to him, the nurse called back the woman who had been talking to him—Sandra something...he hadn’t caught her last name.