“I guess I should formally introduce you to my partner, Ian Bergamo,” Erik spoke up.
“Huh,” I breathed a laugh, barely holding back the manic chuckle brewing. I’d been so close to him the whole time, always missing him when he traveled to London for their business. What were the odds?
“Yeah, we didn’t quite get to last names when we met,” Ian muttered.
Jared choked on another laugh, but quickly pulled it together when Alexandra slapped his shoulder.
“Carina Russo,” I stated simply.
“Next time, Erik, let’s use first names when talking about the people we’re working with.” Ian smiled with no humor. “I had no idea you were the Miss Russo he kept mentioning.”
“Well, now we know.”
Ian and I had a staring duel until a petite hand rested on Ian’s shoulder, pulling his attention away. Hanna squeezed his shoulder supportively, and he gave her a real grin that reached his eyes. Jealously pierced my chest, and I almost laughed at how absurd it was. I hadn’t seen Ian in eight months. Maybe he was dating Hanna, a petite, demure, beautiful woman who wasn’t the size of a whale.
I couldn’t blame him. I liked Hanna. She was sweet and had a quirky sense of humor. She also made the most amazing chocolate chip cookies I’d grown to crave in my pregnancy. I’d spoken with her each time I visited the office. We laughed over the men in the room, grabbed lunch on occasion. But now, when I looked at her, all I felt was similar feelings I’d had to Jackson being with Jake: doubt, insecure, hurt.
When fire burned my nose, I quickly looked away from the sweet moment, and pulled out the papers, starting the meeting. I moved quickly and avoided eye contact with Ian as much as possible. Which wasn’t easy considering he was the main informant on the London office they were opening. He’d done all the traveling and in-person research.
Thankfully, he was able to keep it professional, and we moved through the meeting quickly. I wasn’t sure what the next step was, but the only thing I could think about right now was getting the hell out of that building. Each second it took to shove another folder in my purse, the pressure built more and more.
Go, go, go. Get out of there.
“I looked for you,” Ian said under his breath across the table as everyone slowly gathered their things. They were trying not to look curious and failing miserably. It only took so long to grab a pamphlet and phone.
“Not right now, Ian. We’re working.” We technically weren’t anymore, but anything to hold him off.
“Tough shit, Carina,” he growled loud enough for everyone to hear and stop.
I didn’t have the ability to form words out of the frustrated chaos swirling through my mind, so I settled on a glare.
“That’s my baby,” he said even louder, his finger pointing at my stomach. “I think that takes a little precedence over work.”
“Maybe for you, but my work is important to me. Have a little patience and wait ten fucking minutes until we leave this office.”
Ian’s jaw clenched before snapping open with his own reply, but Erik cut him off.
“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and watch, I have another meeting to get to. Lovely to see you, Carina.”
“We done?” Ian asked Erik.
Erik gave me a cursory glance for approval, and I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good.” Ian latched on to my arm and dragged me behind him. Everyone stared with wide eyes, mostly filled with humor and excitement.
Except Hanna who watched with hurt lingering in her green depths, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he pulled me out with him, leaving a girlfriend behind.
If Ian had a girlfriend, then where did that leave the baby and me? Would he try to take the baby for shared custody? My steps faltered at the thought.
Seven months—for seven months, I’d accepted that I was on my own. I made plans on my own. I prepared for a future that held just Peanut and me. Now, Ian clutched my hand, dragging me to where we would talk about a future that included him and whatever his life looked like.
The endless possibilities of what that could be swarmed and crashed through all my plans, rocking my foundation, and making me want to tug free and run.
Some nights, I’d lain in bed and concocted scenarios where I’d run into Ian, and I’d picture the man in the photos, laughing with me. We’d meet for coffee, realize we were in love, and all would work out. I knew they were just fantasies to help cope with being alone, but never in a million years had I imagined this scenario of possibly having it all taken away.
As we crossed the threshold into his office, I made a promise to myself and Peanut—I wasn’t going to crumble under my fear, and I wasn’t going to let him barrel through my well-constructed plans.
I knew I’d have to let him in our lives, but I would say how much.
5 Ian
Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Oh. Holy. Fuck.
With every step closer to my office, my chant rang louder.
That, and thinking about how soft her hand was. Somehow my mind tore in two. One side was panicking about the pregnant woman behind me, and the other was wondering how fast I could feel those soft hands on the rest of my body. Although, that thought shriveled up and died when I finally closed us in my office and turned to find her harsh scowl. I even took a step back from her until I bumped against my desk.
Rather than letting her know how shaky my legs felt, I leaned against the edge and crossed my arms, lifting my chin like that had been the plan the whole time.
“It is mine, right?”
“Maybe it’s not.”
“Carina,” I growled.
Her hands moved to her hips, pulling the jacket she wore open and exposing more of her belly. The belly that had my baby inside it. A baby. My baby.
She didn’t have to say it, because I may not have spent much time with her, but I knew enough to know she wouldn’t screw around about this if it wasn’t mine.
My throat threatened to close up on me, but I swallowed hard, blotting that out for now. Carina stood before me, her chin high and proud, her eyes hard and scared.
Carina, the woman who haunted me at night—and during the day. The woman who had me jerking off more than I’d like to admit over the past eight months was standing in my office, looking gorgeous…and scared.
I’d had an hour to deal with the fact that she was pregnant, and, in that time, the fear was crushing me under its weight. I’d barely taken anything in during the meeting, focusing on controlling the increasing pressure on my chest—trying to create a plan of action in my head. Questions had bombarded me, fears of being a father—of being responsible for another life created chaos, images of how my life would change, making it hard to breathe.
But she’d been dealing with that pressure for months. And she’d been alone.
She didn’t have to be alone. “Why didn’t you find me?”
One eyebrow slowly rose. “Well, Ian,” she began, her tone dripping with condescension. “Without a last name, you’re hard to find.”
“You’ve been working with us for seven months. How could you not know?”
Her arms flung out to the side. “I don’t know, Ian. How could you not know? Could it be I’ve only been here six times, and you weren’t here for any of the meetings? Could it be that I was working directly with Erik? Maybe that’s it.”