STORM: A Standalone Romance (23 page)

“I’ll talk to you later,” I said into the phone.

“Sure,” Kelly said, her voice a little uncertain. “Take care, okay?”

“You too,” I said as I hung up.

Slipping the phone into the pocket of my robe, I turned back to him.

“Where are we going?”

“L.A.”

“You want me to go with you?”

He crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that made him appear more intimidating than he really was. Or maybe it was a gesture that revealed his true character. At that moment, I wasn’t quite sure.

“I intend to be there the moment that baby comes. Since my business is in L.A.,” he said, no apology in his voice, “that means you’ll be going with me.”

My stomach tightened with tension. Once again, I couldn’t read that mask he often hid behind. It unnerved me how easily he could hide his thoughts and how he could shift from being an affectionate lover to a cold and dispassionate stranger in the blink of an eye. I didn’t know what to make of it.

“What if I don’t want to leave with you?” I asked carefully.

“You don’t have a say in the matter.”

And that was it, wasn’t it? We had been playing a game since yesterday, but he was done with all that. His cards were on the table and he was making his play. And, as he’d said the night before, he was Nicolas Costa and Nicolas Costa was probably as rich as Warren Buffet or Bill Gates, rich enough to take me to court and squash any argument the legal aid lawyer I’d be forced to turn to could come up with. I had nothing to fight him with and we both knew it. I was like Playdough in his hands, his to play with for as long as I held his interest. And when I didn’t—when this baby was born—he would throw me away like much-used tissue paper.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“You’re not being reasonable,” I said softly, trying to approach the subject with as much objective calm as I could. However, anger flashed in his eyes even as they narrowed.

“Let me put it more reasonably then,” he said in a quiet voice that sounded all the more menacing. “You either come with me now, or I’ll place bodyguards on you twenty-four hours a day.”

I shivered at the thought of my every movement being watched, but I was not about to let him browbeat me. I shrugged and raised my chin.

“So, I’ll be protected. What’s the big deal?”

He smiled, and it was like watching a predator just before it struck. I stared at him, fascinated, waiting for him to speak.

“You’re the one who misunderstands now. The bodyguards won’t be to protect you, but to protect my child. I can’t have you running off again, or purposely doing something to hurt the child.” He straightened a little, dropping his hands to his sides. “How do I know that you’re eating right, that you’re following doctor’s orders and making it to all the appropriate appointments? How do I know you’re doing everything required to keep that baby healthy?” He shook his head. “And the moment that baby’s born…you won’t have to worry about it or me ever again.”

“You can’t…!” Horror laced my voice, giving birth to the fear and grief that the idea of losing this baby offered.

“That’s right, darling. I will take my baby, and you will never see him again. Ever.”

Tears stung my eyes. I crossed my own arms over my chest, not in a gesture of defiance, but to offer just the littlest bit of consolation to myself.

“And if I go with you,” I said softly.

“I would see it as compliance. I might consider keeping you in the loop after the baby’s born. Send pictures to you. Let you see him from time to time.”

“Just time to time?”

“What do you want, Ana? You’re a surrogate. Our contract outlined your involvement in the child’s life.”

“Aurora promised me visitation.”

“And I’ll honor that.”

“But only if I come with you.”

“Yes. You come to L.A. of your own free will and you stay with me at my house—”

“Your house?” I looked over at him. “Why your house?”

“I don’t trust you. You ran once already. You didn’t even tell me you were pregnant. I had to find out from a private detective.” His eyes—those expressive eyes—narrowed again. “Do you know what that was like?”

Of course I didn’t. But I could imagine.

He was quiet for a long minute. “What happened last night…?”

I shook my head. “You can consider last night a lapse in judgment that won’t happen again.” I stood up and went to my dresser, dragging out a pair of jeans and random t-shirt. “You should go so I can dress.”

“I have an errand to run,” he said as he backed up. “Be here when I get back.”

The moment he closed the door and disappeared I sank back down on the bed and began to cry. I couldn’t believe this was happening. But it was and there nothing I could do about it.

I pulled myself together and quickly dressed, throwing the bulk of my belongings into two duffle bags. I was too depressed to contemplate what it meant to be able to fit most of my belonging into two duffle bags. And then I got my laptop out of the living room and wrote an email to the flight attendant from whom I was subletting this apartment. I felt bad walking out on my six-month lease with her, but Nicolas wasn’t leaving me many options. I promised to make good on the rent if she couldn’t find someone else on such short notice. It was the least I could do. Then I sent Kelly an email, aware that she wouldn’t see it immediately. I didn’t want to talk to her just now. But later…I knew I would need her.

I didn’t say a word when Nicolas came back twenty minutes later with two men—presumably the bodyguards he’d threatened me with earlier. They picked up my luggage and led the way downstairs, directing us into a black Cadillac Escalade that was parked at the curb. I could feel eyes on me. Cars like this were not common in this neighborhood. I felt like everyone knew what was happening—and that caused shame to settle on my shoulders like boulders, like I’d done something wrong that my Catholic mom would come back and haunt me for.

Or maybe she already had. Maybe that’s how Nicolas found me.

The thing was, my mom didn’t know what I’d agreed to do. I didn’t tell her. I thought I would wait until I was actually pregnant before I told her I was a surrogate. I thought then it might not be such a shock to her. As a Catholic, my mother would be horribly shocked to know that I wasn’t a virgin, let alone that I was pregnant. I thought, maybe, if I told her I was giving life to a child that might otherwise never have had the chance, it would be easier for her to swallow. But I never had the chance.

Tears welled in my throat. I missed my mom.

I curled up in the car seat and pressed my hands to my belly. I stared out the window and watched the scenery speed by so fast that I couldn’t tell a light pole from a street sign. I felt like I was being sent off to a death sentence. A little dramatic, but it fit.

Death with a man I thought I could love.

How wrong had I been….

We flew to L.A. on a private jet. Nicolas sat on the opposite side of the aisle from me, talking into his smartphone most of the flight. Like in the car, I stared out the window most of the time. It was funny…my first time on a plane and I was too depressed to enjoy it.

When we landed, Nicolas suddenly remembered I existed. He slipped into the chair beside me and leaned close to me.

“There will likely be paparazzi outside the airport gates and outside the gates of my house. They’ve been hounding me almost constantly since Aurora’s…well, since everything exploded. It would be great if you’d keep your head down and not encourage any sort of interaction.”

“What are you afraid I’d do? Tell them what a great guy you are?”

Nicolas just shook his head. “This is my reputation you’re playing with here, Ana. If you think I’m an asshole now, wait until you do something to hurt my career.”

I believed him. I just nodded, chewing on my lip so roughly that I tasted blood.

The flight attendant opened the cabin door. Nicolas stood and grabbed me under my upper arm, leading me to the door. I could hear the paparazzi before I saw them, their voices raised in question like a swarm of bumblebees swarming a hive. Another group of bodyguards were waiting beside another black SUV, this one a Ford Explorer. I climbed into the backseat as I heard one particularly loud paparazzi ask who I was.

“That your new girlfriend?” the voice asked. “You getting married again, Nicolas?”

Talking to him like they were buddies, sitting around a poker table. It was offensive, even to me, and I wasn’t really the target of their questions.

“Let’s go,” Nicolas barked to the bodyguard who climbed behind the wheel.

The moment we drove through the gates of the private airport, several cars pulled into traffic behind us, causing something of a commotion as they cut off two other cars that were already on the road. I looked behind us, outside the back windshield, and was shocked at the insane way a few of the paparazzi were hanging out the windows in order to get pictures of the car. They couldn’t even see Nicolas, yet they were willing to put their lives at risk.

“Turn around,” Nicolas said. “There’s no point in watching them. It only encourages them if they see you.”

I settled back down in my seat. Nicolas was next to me, reading something on his smartphone.

“Is it always like this?”

“Yeah.”

“Is this what it was like for Aurora?”

He glanced at me and I caught a glimpse of grief in his eyes. “It was.”

“You don’t think—?”

“Being constantly in the public life is difficult for everyone. Some handle it better than others. Aurora…I thought she was stronger than she was.”

I nodded, thinking again of the excited woman I met nearly six months ago. I remember the way she looked over her shoulder from time to time when we met at her country club and that one public restaurant. I thought at the time she was looking for the waiter. Now, I thought she might have been looking to see who was watching.

It couldn’t be all that great to be watched all the time.

I crossed my legs and looked out the window. I’d lived in L.A. almost all my life. I didn’t want to admit it, but it was nice to be back. All the familiar sights…even the canyons of Mulholland Drive were familiar thanks to my mom’s job. And, of course, I knew the gate of Nicolas’ house from the times I’d met with Aurora there. It would be odd, walking into that house knowing that Aurora would never come walking into the room, her long, silk skirts flowing out behind her, or that I would never hear the soft, breathless tone of her voice again.

I couldn’t imagine what it was like for Nicolas.

I slid out of the car the moment it came to a stop in the circle drive. Nicolas rushed around to my side, taking my arm and pulling me hard against his side.

“Don’t go wandering off without me, please.”

“I’m just walking to the door.”

“The paparazzi are everywhere,” he said, gesturing with his chin toward a low section of the wrought iron fence along the side of the property. I could just barely see the flash of a camera’s flash. “I don’t want them getting a clear picture of your face. Then your name will be all over the tabloids first thing in the morning and you’ll never be able to go anywhere on your own again.”

I glanced at him, but I didn’t say anything. The thing was, I was pretty sure he was right. And that was a little frightening.

He guided me up to the front door, careful to stand between me and the paparazzi in the bushes. Once inside, he let go of me like I was a hot potato or something.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, gesturing toward the living room at the back of the house. “Constance should have made up a room for you. I told her to put you in the front guest room.” He gestured toward the stairs. “It’s the second door on the left at the top of the stairs. Right next to the master.”

“Afraid I’ll sneak out in the middle of the night?” I asked, only half serious.

“Yes.”

And then he disappeared, walking down the hallway that shot off from the entry way and around the side of the grand staircase.

I went into the living room and took a water bottle from the mini-fridge in the bar.  As I stood there, sipping from the bottle, I remembered how Nicolas had stood here that night months ago, drinking a huge slug of brandy from a thick crystal glass. And then I looked at the long, white couch and remembered how Aurora sat beside me the day she told me that she wanted me to be her surrogate. This wasn’t even my house, yet I had so many memories here. It was a little surreal.

I wandered to the back doors—gorgeous French doors that looked out on a huge, well-tended garden. There were low bushes, beautiful trees, and roses everywhere. I found myself imagining a little girl running around out there, her father lifting her in the air and spinning her around as she laughed down into his face. This was the kind of place where a child would have an idyllic childhood. I touched my belly lightly.

“You are a lucky one,” I said to the baby nestled inside.

“
Mija
?”

I turned and cried out at the sight of Constance. I ran to her and threw my arms around her neck, so grateful to see someone I knew, someone I loved and whom I knew loved me back, that I was overwhelmed with emotion. I pressed my face to her neck and sobbed almost like I had on Nicolas’ shoulder the day before. The difference was, I knew Constance wouldn’t judge me and she wouldn’t play on my vulnerabilities to get me to do something I shouldn’t.

“How are you,
nina
?”

I shrugged. “I miss
mi madre
.”

“I know,
mija
, I know. I miss her, too.”

She pulled me close and kissed my forehead. “But she’s okay. You know that. She’s looking down on us, and she’s so proud.”

I shook my head, more tears falling from my eyes. “She would be ashamed of me. Of what I’ve done.”

“No.” Constance touched my belly lightly. “She would be happy to see you bringing life into the world. And this child is even more special because she comes from you.”

“You don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me
no sabe
,
nina
,” Constance said. “You may not believe it, but
ya se.
”

If I’d learned anything growing up with a single mom and a woman like Constance, it was that you didn’t argue with a woman who said she knew what she was talking about. So I just nodded, trying in vain to stall the flow of tears.

“
Te amo
,” she whispered against my ear. “Everything will be okay.”

I wanted to believe her, but then I saw Nicolas watching us from the hallway. I couldn’t read his expression because he was standing in shadow, but the fact that he turned away the moment he saw me watching him told me everything I needed to know.

It wasn’t going to be okay. I was held prisoner by a man who was willing to do anything to get what he wanted, including using me to take the child growing in my womb. I wasn’t sure this man was capable of love. He clearly hadn’t loved his wife. How was he going to love a child?

How could I allow this child to come into the world aware that it would be stuck with a father who couldn’t care less about her emotional wellbeing?

I couldn’t. It was as simple as that.