Black Ties and Lullabyes (12 page)

Chapter 13

Bernie sat on the sofa in her living room, staring like a zombie at the wal , her hands resting on her abdomen. She’d managed to absorb the fact that she was having one baby, but to find out she was having two made her brain waves flatline.

This isn’t real. It’s a nightmare. Be patient—you’ll
wake up in a moment and this will all be over.

Then she heard a knock at her door, jolting her out of her trance. Was that part of her nightmare, too?

She rose and looked through the peephole. Yep, nightmare. Jeremy had actual y fol owed her home.

She didn’t want to talk to him. She felt stupid for flipping out the way she had at the doctor’s office, but if she hadn’t shut him down, he would only have started in with his usual way of handling things, which included commanding and control ing at al costs. And if she let him in and he went off like that, she might just rip his head off, and the last thing she needed was a murder accusation. Being pregnant with twins was one thing. Being pregnant with twins in prison was quite another.

Jeremy knocked, louder this time. “Bernie! Answer the door!”

Bernie continued to look out the peephole, wil ing him to go away.

“I’m not going away!” he said.

So much for her wil power.

Bernie grabbed her cel phone and dialed Max’s number. The line clicked. “Hey, Bernie. What’s up?”

“I assume you’re in Jeremy’s car downstairs?”

“Yep.”

“Uh… you probably know the whole story by now, don’t you?”

“What? That Bridges is the father, and you’re having twins?”

Leave it to Max to get right to the point. “Yes. And right now, he’s banging on my door, and I just don’t want to deal with him now. Can you make him go away?”

“Sorry, Bernie. No can do.”

“Come on, Max. Help me out here!”

“For now, Bridges is cal ing the shots on my end.

Here’s some advice.”

“What?”

“If you don’t deal with him now, you’l deal with him later, so just go ahead and deal with him now.”

“Bernie!” Jeremy shouted. “Open the
door
!” She slumped with resignation. Max was right, of course. Avoidance only bought her another day or two of worry until he showed up again.

“Bernie?” Max said.

“Yeah?”

“Gotta admit it was a hel of a surprise. How did you and Bridges… you know—get to where you are now?”

Bernie sighed. “I’d have to be extremely intoxicated to tel that story.”

“I’l be looking forward to it.”

Yeah, buy me a six-pack in about eighteen years.

With a sigh of extreme frustration, Bernie laid down her phone, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

“It’s about time,” Jeremy said as he swept into her apartment. “I was beginning to think you hadn’t come home, except your car is out front. Which suggests—

crazy as it seems—that you may have been ignoring me.”


May
have been ignoring you?”

“You shouldn’t have left alone. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Wil you stop being so condescending? Of course I’m thinking straight!”

“Yeah? Then why do you have your shirt on backward?”

Bernie flicked her gaze down to look at herself.

Damn.

The longer he stared at her, the dumber she felt.

She brushed past him and went to her kitchen. For what, she wasn’t sure, but she was absolutely sure she wanted to escape his prying eyes. “You can go home now, Bridges. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this by myself.”

“Yeah? Wel , you went a little nuts in the doctor’s office.”

She grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. “I was just surprised at the news. That’s al .”

“Freaked out is more like it. But you know, I’ve been thinking. This might actual y work out pretty wel .”

“Oh, yeah? How’s that?”

“You’re having twins,” he said. “One for me, one for you.”

Bernie wheeled on him. “For God’s sake! They’re not a pair of Twinkies!”

“Wil you laugh a little? It won’t kil you.”

“Is everything just a big joke to you?”

“Sometimes you gotta laugh, or you’l cry.” Suddenly, out of nowhere, Bernie felt her eyes fog up. Then they burned a little.
Oh, God.

Tears?

For one of the few times in her tightly control ed life, the power of suggestion had power over her. She tried to blink them away, but she wasn’t having much luck. If it were up to her, she’d damn al female hormones to hel .

“Oh, crap,” Jeremy said, his joking expression vanishing. “I didn’t mean you actual y had to
choose
.”

“I’m not choosing,” she snapped, turning her back to him as she unscrewed the cap of the water bottle.

“And I’m not crying.
I don’t cry.

“Oh. My mistake.”

Damn it, now her nose was running. She set down the water bottle, grabbed a napkin, and wiped her nose surreptitiously. “Two babies is just kind of overwhelming, and crying is a reflex. That’s al .”

“Right. A reflex.”

And just like that, the reflexive action kicked in again, and she grabbed another napkin to wipe her eyes.
Don’t do this. Don’t start crying, or you may
never stop.
She started toward her bedroom, just in case the eternal weeping was about to begin.

“Where are you going?” Jeremy asked.

“To turn my shirt around.”

“The shirt doesn’t matter. Sit down for a minute.”

“I don’t want to sit.”

But as she brushed past him, he grabbed her arm and pul ed her to the sofa. “Forget the shirt.”

“Bridges—”

“Sit.”

With a heavy sigh, she sank to the sofa. He went to the kitchen, grabbed a stack of napkins, and plopped them onto the coffee table in front of her. But she didn’t need them, because by God, she was
not
going to cry. At least, not much.

But
two
babies? How was she ever going to deal with that?

“Look, I have enough problems already,” she said.

“The last thing I need is you adding to them.”

“Problems? What problems?”

“None of your business.”

“Have you been able to work?”

“That’s none of your business, either.”

“Let’s get something straight, Bernie. You’re carrying my children—”


Our
children.”

“—which means ‘none of your business’ is no longer an acceptable answer. Are you going to be able to work?”

She paused. “Not as a bodyguard.”

“Yeah. Pregnancy would tend to make that a nonstarter. So what are your job plans?” Bernie hated this. Saying it out loud made it sound even more mundane, boring, and dead-end. “If you must know, I talked to Gabe Delgado. He has a contract job for me at the Lone Star Museum of Art monitoring their security cameras.”

Jeremy shook his head. “You’re not cut out to sit at a desk al day. You’l be miserable.”

“For the next week or two at least, I probably won’t feel like doing much else.” She dropped her head to her hands, then rubbed her temples.

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asked.

“Head’s swimming a little. That’s al .”

“Uh-huh. Probably aggravated by al that crying you’re not doing.”

“It’s just morning sickness.”

“I thought that was a stomach thing.”

“Nope,” she said, lifting her head again. “It’s more like an ‘every organ in your body’ kind of thing.”

“How can you have morning sickness when it’s not morning?”

“I don’t know why they cal it that. It lasts al day and halfway into the night. But it’s way better than it was, which tel s you how bad it used to be.” She took a deep, cleansing breath that did no good at al . Another breath. Same story. Maybe she should stop breathing altogether. That would definitely solve her problem.

The distant sound of music wafted through the air.

Jeremy glanced out the window, where her neighbor across the way sat on his balcony playing his guitar.

The guy had spiky red-tipped hair and was tattooed just about everywhere that showed. Bernie had met him. He was nice enough. He just looked a little…

alternative. Judging by the way Jeremy twisted his mouth with disgust, he thought the guy was a little
too
alternative.

“I can’t believe you live in a place like this,” Jeremy said.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“Weird people. Potholes al over the place. Peeling paint. The stair railing outside is fal ing out of the wal .”
Damn.
With everything going on, she’d forgotten to cal Charmin again about that damned railing.

“I paid you real y wel for two years,” Jeremy went on. “You could have spent an extra three or four hundred a month and found a decent place to live.

Why didn’t you?”

“Because I like saving money.”

“Yeah? What good wil those savings do you when you’re attacked by some lunatic?”

“Do you have to be so dramatic? You know I can take care of myself.”

“Under normal circumstances, of course you can.

But pregnant women make excel ent targets.”

“Wil you stop? You’re just comparing this place to that castle you live in. This is where normal people live.”

“Yeah? I saw a few out front who were decidedly abnormal.”

“Yeah, wel , I’ve met a lot of men in business suits who were rotten to the core. Most of the people who live here are just regular people who are trying to get by.”

“I’m the father of the babies you’re carrying,” Jeremy said, “so I should have some say-so when it comes to your health and wel -being. And you won’t be healthy and wel very much longer living in a place like this. Move somewhere else.”

Bernie wanted to pul her hair out. Here he was, acting as he always did, as if the entire population of the world should fal in line the moment he snapped his fingers. He saw absolutely nothing wrong with that, but in Bernie’s eyes, there wasn’t anything that
wasn’t
wrong with it. The moment she let him dictate something as basic as where she lived, she’d be under his thumb from now on.

“You’re not tel ing me where to live,” she said. “And it’s a moot point anyway. Even if I wanted a nicer apartment, I couldn’t afford it.”

“Uh… have we met before?” He held out his hand.

“Hel o, I’m Jeremy Bridges. I’m a multimil ionaire.” She took his hand. “Hel o, Mr. Bridges. I’m Bernie Hogan, the mother of these babies, and you’re keeping your money to yourself.”

He pul ed his hand away. “So you’re tel ing me you’d deprive your children of a decent place to live when their father can easily foot the bil for it?”

“When that money comes with so many strings attached that it chokes their mother to death, you bet your life I would.”

“I’m just offering to help. What’s wrong with that?” What was
wrong
with that? Was he
serious
?

“It might interest you to know,” Bernie said, “that your paternity can’t be legal y established until after these babies are born. Until then, I have sole custody and al the rights that go along with that.” She stood up, suggesting it was time for him to go. “In other words, I don’t have to listen to a damned thing you say.”

Jeremy stared at her a moment through narrowed eyes, then stood up beside her, shaking his head. “My God. Tel me you’re not that naive.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you actual y think a recitation of your legal rights is going to make me go away?”

He spoke with such conviction that she couldn’t help feeling intimidated, especial y with him staring down at her as if he held al the cards. She inched closer, folding her arms and staring up at him.

“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into,” she said. “Having a baby is no walk in the park.

Neither is taking care of one. Or two, as the case may be.”

“People have been doing it since the dawn of time.”

“How did you like going to the doctor with me today? Feel right at home? Can’t wait to go back?”

“It was an interesting experience.”

“Interesting. Uh-huh. Trust me when I tel you—it’s only going to get harder from here.”

“I built a multimil ion-dol ar business from the ground up in an economic climate that should have chewed me up and spit me out. Do you real y think I can’t deal with a baby?”

“Business. Right. Try tel ing a screaming baby what a big-shot businessman you are.
That’ll
put him to sleep.” She paused, raising an eyebrow. “Then again, maybe it wil . I know it makes me yawn.” Jeremy gave her a smal , knowing smile. “Trust me, Bernie. I have skil s I haven’t even begun to show you yet.” He moved closer. “Want me to give you a preview?”

With a slow, deliberate sweep of his eyes, he lowered his gaze to her lips. Memories came flooding back of that moment in his safe room when he’d swooped in and kissed her with an unrestrained carnality that made her knees buckle. And when her legs wobbled a little al over again, she wondered: What the hel was it about this man that made her want to kiss him and slap him al at the same time?

“This is just amazing,” she said.

His gaze came up slowly to meet hers again.

“What’s amazing?”

“The more you try to intimidate me, the more I get the urge to open that door and throw you down the stairs.”

He shook his head sadly. “Bernie? Have you ever thought about trying sex
without
anger?”

“From now on, where you’re concerned, I think I’l stick to anger without sex.”

“Never say never. It makes it so much harder later when you’re dying to change your mind.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go now. But don’t worry. You’l be seeing me again soon.”

On his way out the door, Jeremy gave her one of his smiles that looked charming on the surface but was calculating underneath, making her wonder what he was up to. Because he was always up to something.

Always.

She watched as he trotted down the stairs. He grabbed the handrail at the same time, clearly forgetting how he’d complained about it on the way up. When it wobbled beneath his hand, he stopped, cursed beneath his breath, and gave it a hard shake.

One end came free, fal ing to the stairs beneath it with a clatter, and a couple of rusty screws went flying. He stepped back suddenly, then glared down at it.

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