The Playboy's Baby: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (2 page)

Tears gathered in Janie’s eyes for the second time that morning. This time, she let them fall.

Margarita rounded the corner as Janie stepped back into the building. “Sister, where have you been? We’ve got deliveries that need checked in, chestnuts to roast, and Danielle wants to add a sauce to the fish. A cheese sauce, of all things. She says I can help her when I’m done with my prep work, but do you know how long it takes to carve a strawberry to make it look like a Christmas light?”

Janie smiled at her friend, but her feigned interest shone through on her face.

“Is everything alright? Your forehead is shiny with sweat.”

Janie shook her head and nodded at the same time. She didn’t know if she was alright or what that even meant. “I’m pregnant,” she blurted.

Margarita raised her hand to her mouth. “Oh my god, sister. Congratulations! Who’s the father? How long have you known? Does he know yet?”

Janie shook her head. Tears streamed down her face.

“Oh honey. Don’t worry, this is all going to work out. I can’t believe I’m going to be an auntie!” Margarita’s shrill voice echoed in the crowded stock room. Down the hall, Janie heard the sink fill with water, followed by approaching footsteps.

“What’s going on?” Danielle called from the cleaning station. “If this involves extra work for me, I don’t want to hear about it.”

Margarita giggled. “It’s nothing. We’ll be there in a minute,” Janie called as she pulled Margarita deeper into the stocked shelves. “You have to keep this a secret,” she commanded.

Margarita nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Congratulations!” She pulled her friend in for a warm embrace. Janie smelled butter and vanilla. She relaxed as Margarita’s long nails scratched lazily at her back.

“I just found out this morning and with this party, I haven’t had time—”

Margarita whisked her apologies away. “Are you going to tell me about the father?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye. “I didn’t even know you were getting any. I thought you were so busy working. I’m glad you had time to have some fun. You need some extra-curricular activities in your life. Will he be excited?”

“I haven’t told him yet,” Janie admitted. “It’s…complicated. And not good timing.”

“It never is,” Margarita agreed. “But that doesn’t matter. This is a beautiful thing, and he’ll be so happy when you tell him the news, you’ll see. Mark my words. It’s like an early Christmas present!”

Janie allowed herself to get pulled into another hug as she contemplated Margarita’s words. Margarita was trying to cheer her up, but Janie knew her words could never become true. Raymond would never be as excited about this pregnancy as she was. He wouldn’t see it as a Christmas miracle, but as an unexpected interruption that threatened to shatter what remaining shred of credibility he had left with his fiancée.

Or worse, he’d think she just wanted to keep the baby so she could squeeze him for child support and take advantage of his family’s name, reputation, and money, like the other politicians and women Margarita and Danielle mentioned earlier that day. Janie swallowed the lump growing in her throat. She was no gold digger. She hadn’t known Raymond was engaged when they’d ended up to the roof together that night after all. He was just a man from the party who complimented her food and had good taste in wine and music. They’d had a nice connection, a good time, but she hadn’t been naïve enough to have any expectations or long-term plans.

If it were up to her, she would never even tell Raymond about his baby growing inside of her. That shouldn’t be too hard, she decided, because if the past was any indicator of the future, she never expected to see him again.

             

             

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

Raymond’s assistant, Gary, set a whiskey and two aspirin next to Raymond’s paperwork as the chauffeur pulled into New York City’s evening traffic.

“You have three missed calls from the New York Times, an appointment with Jack Davis from the governor’s office, and a late dinner reservation with the newest Miss New York,” Gary said as the city’s skyline danced across the Lincoln’s tinted windows. “The Tokyo exchange opens in three hours and your father wants to confirm your attendance at the Christmas party.”

Raymond closed his eyes and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Call the Times back and give them my standard ‘no comment.’ Tell my father I’m not feeling up for a Christmas party right now. Reschedule with Jack Davis and bring a copy of my current Japanese investments up to the suite. I’m staying in for the night.”

Raymond wanted nothing more than to relax in his suite with a bottle of Jack and CNN muted in the background. He couldn’t believe the predicament he was in. His fiancée—God, how he hated that term—was spending her Christmas in some quaint Vermont bed and breakfast she hadn’t been able to coerce him into visiting. In hindsight, perhaps he should have showed some interest in riding horses in the New England blizzard. John, the son of a Supreme Court Justice, was certainly interested, although Raymond was pretty sure John was more piqued by Katherine’s short skirts then touring a barn full of wild chickens and smelly goats. Now John had Raymond’s half of the bed as reward for his enthusiasm. He was feeding Katherine strawberries and whipped cream for breakfast, Raymond was sure of it. The secret service officers confirmed this, giving Raymond each and every lurid detail.

And yet, the papers made Raymond out to be the cheating son of a whore. He was more upset about the paper’s defamation than the loss of Katherine. In fact, he was glad to finally be rid of her. Raymond had never wanted to date the president’s daughter. Marrying the mayor’s son with the president’s daughter was a huge political stunt and good for poll ratings. Raymond had always felt unsatisfied with his relationship with Katherine. She wanted to marry his name and had no interest in getting to know Raymond’s likes or dislikes.

Raymond knew she would drop him the moment a bigger celebrity came along. It wasn’t until he met Janie in St. Regis’ kitchen that he remembered what it felt like to be in love. Raymond wasn’t sure what it was about Janie that made her so attractive. Obviously, she was absolutely gorgeous. He kept thinking about those long, thin legs, showcased with her pointed high heels and shapely skirt. And the amount of cleavage she displayed in the kitchen was unbearable. It took all of the self-restraint he possessed the first time he met her to wait until the rooftop to bury his face in her cleavage and cover her exposed breasts with rapid kisses. 

But Raymond had dated attractive women before. He’d had a plethora of actresses, swimsuit models, and millionaire groupies. He even dated triplets once. And Katherine was no slouch in the looks department, either. But with Janie, there was something intangible that made her so impossibly attractive. Raymond loved watching her work in the kitchen, her back straight with confidence and her chest puffed with pride. He realized she cared deeply about her business and the service she provided, not just about making a profit.

She stood her ground under the mayor’s impossible ice sculpture demands and reacted to his insults with grace and integrity. She even added a little humor, which is necessary in the restaurant business, but incredibly difficult to incorporate when pompous windbags, like the mayor’s country club friends, make racists comments like “African American chefs are only smart enough to work in a school cafeteria.” But Janie handled the night with ease. She turned on the charm when she needed to, and she acted like a cool, calculating CEO when that suited her needs better. Raymond was impressed. So impressed that he told his father he wanted to break up with Katherine the night of the election. He would have, too, if he’d ever had a second alone with her. Instead, his father whisked her away onto the dance floor and an hour later announced their engagement to the world.

Raymond wondered what Janie thought when she heard the news. He’d been too chicken to call her even though he wanted to explain. None of this was his fault. He really did care for her and wanted to see her again. But he had a fiancée then, and his dad wouldn’t let him trade the president’s daughter for a hotel chef. Plus, Janie didn’t need that kind of drama, always being hounded by the paparazzi and cringing every time she saw her name in the paper.

But now, he was finally free. What would Janie’s reaction to him be? Raymond imagined a tearful reunion, full of forgiveness and understanding. He imagined wiping away her imagined tears, wrapping his arms around her, and crushing her against his chest. He wanted to run his hands up and down her arms and knead the knots of stress from her back and shoulders. He fantasized about shoving her against the kitchen door and simultaneous sliding his tongue into her wet, juicy mouth while his fingers dug under her skirt searching for her equally wet and juicy panties.

He might have, too, if he hadn’t thought she’d knee him in the gonads.

“What about Miss New York?” Gary asked as the family car pulled in front of Raymond’s building. The doorman opened the car door, letting in the swirling evening air.

“Is she attractive?” Raymond asked as he stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets.

Gary stared at him, open-mouthed. “How many of these drinks did you have? She won the state beauty contest. I believe one of the requirements of winning is being incredibly hot.”

“Yeah, okay.” Raymond pulled his jacket tighter around his body as he swung his Salvatore Ferragamo boots onto the sidewalk. He needed a distraction from Janie before he did something stupid like call her and ask her out. “See if she wants to come up for a late dinner and drinks.”

“You got it, boss.”

Raymond shut the car door on Gary’s knowing wink.

***

Gary was right. Lyndsey was pretty hot. Tall and thin, she had the leanest legs and flattest stomach Raymond had ever seen. Raymond immediately thought of a conversation he and Janie had on the roof, once she’d thawed enough to take up his invitation. It was a beautiful November night and Raymond could just make out a few stars through the New York City haze. Janie leaned into Raymond for warmth. Like a nervous teenager on his first date, Raymond grazed her breast as he slid his arm around her. But Janie just smiled and asked Raymond if he liked the view. She was looking at the stars, but he was looking straight at her when he nodded and said yes.

The memory made Raymond smile for the first time all day. Lyndsey took that as an invitation, winking as she slid a warm hand under Raymond’s open suit jacket. Grabbing the lapels of his dress shirt with both hands, she pulled Raymond into an aggressive kiss. When she slipped her tongue in his mouth, Raymond thought of the kiss he had with Janie on the roof. Sweet and tender and special, he hadn’t wanted that kiss to end. Not like the rough dance taking place in his mouth right now. At least Janie didn’t taste like menthol cigarettes.

Raymond couldn’t seem to get Janie out of his mind. When Lyndsey ordered three hundred dollar truffles, Raymond wondered what Janie thought of rich people eating delicacies like fish eggs and snails. He thought about his hands on the small of Janie’s back as Lyndsey ran a foot up his inner thigh. When Lyndsey suggested a joint after-dinner shower, it was Janie’s naked body Raymond hoped to see lathered and sudsy in his bathroom.

Lyndsey excused herself to the bathroom when Raymond’s phone dinged. He picked up the phone on the second ring and said hello to Gary.

“Having a nice evening?” Gary asked. Raymond didn’t think Gary sounded at all upset that he might be interrupting. In fact, it sounded more like he wanted explicit details.

“Not exactly. Do you have more bad news for me? I don’t think this night could get any worse.”

“Actually, yes. Your father demanded that you show up to the Christmas party tonight. He said, wait, I wrote down his exact words—” Papers shuffled in the background as Gary searched for his notes. “Okay, here it is. He said, ‘Get your lazy ass off whatever bimbo you’re on top off.’—I might have mentioned Miss New York, by the way, and he may or may not have mentioned it to the president—”

“Jesus,” Raymond murmured.

“Anyway, he said security would keep away the paparazzi so you didn’t have to worry about being recognized. So he wants you there to hobnob with his buddies and pretend you aren’t hiding out because you didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong, right?”

The toilet flushed and Lyndsey stumbled into the room. She sniffed her nose twice, running a hand against the dusting of white powder that ran along the outer edge of her nose.

“Not yet,” Raymond said. “Can I screw a girl so coked out of her mind she won’t remember poking me with the sharp angles of her anorexia body?”

“Yes,” Gary encouraged. “You can’t pass up a chance to bone Miss New York.”

Lyndsey teetered across the room toward Raymond and dropped into his lap. Her hands went straight to the string around her neck holding up her shirt. Raymond grabbed her wrist before she unveiled her flat chest.

“Clothes stay on,” he said.

Lyndsey shrugged as she ground her hips over Raymond’s thighs. He tried not to focus on the bony ass pressing firmly into his pants.

“Anything else, Gary? I’m a little busy here.”

“Sure, sure,” Gary said. “I should mention that the Christmas party is at the St. Regis. Thought that might influence your decision about attending…”

Raymond’s thoughts drifted back to Janie as he said goodbye to Gary and hung up the phone. Lyndsey continued pumping her hips, smiling triumphantly when she got her desired reaction.

“Bingo,” she said. She slid off Raymond’s lap and crawled onto her knees between his legs. She flipped her platinum blonde hair over her shoulder before lowering her mouth toward his pants. Raymond grit his teeth at the sound of his zipper sliding down.

“I think we should call it a night,” Raymond said, swinging his legs away from Lyndsey’s face. He only partially lied when he complained about the migraine twitching behind his right eye. The throbbing in his head he could deal with—another few fingers of whiskey and he wouldn’t be able to feel a thing. It was the throbbing below his belt that he was worried about. “I have a Christmas party to attend tonight.”

“But I wanted to see your yacht,” Lyndsey whined as Raymond handed over her clutch and the hooker heels she kicked off by the front door. “I’ve heard you throw an amazing party.”

“Maybe next time.”

He bid Lyndsey goodnight and headed out on the street to wait for his driver. He would honor his father’s wishes and show up to the stupid, stuffy Christmas party. If he was going to make a fool of himself at his first public appearance, it might as well be at the restaurant run by the woman he couldn’t get out of his head.

***

The hotel transformed into a magical winter wonderland and was more beautiful than Raymond remembered. Garlands with holly and berries edged each red and green table. Mistletoe hung from the rafters. Santa greeted guests with a cheery “ho, ho, ho” as servers dressed as elves passed out hors d’oeuvres and refilled champagne glasses. An ice sculpture stood as the room’s centerpiece. It was so detailed it took Raymond’s breath away.

Raymond gave his coat to the girl at the counter and ambled into the reception area. He bypassed the table of his father’s cronies. He tried to ignore the audible gasps and blatant stares by some of the more dramatic wives, who took to whispering behind itching fingers and live tweeting Raymond’s single presence at the city’s most famous Christmas party. Raymond kept his eye out for the paparazzi—he’d seen a few run off by the hotel doorman—but no one inside was peppering him with questions or camera flashes. His father had held up his end of the bargain. For now.

Raymond walked the outer perimeter of the room. He stopped a server in green tights and pointy shoes that squeaked when he stepped.

“Can I help you sir?” the server asked.

“Is Janie back there?” Raymond asked. The server shrugged a bony shoulder and returned to his champagne rounds. Raymond pushed past him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was loud and hot, with cursing in both English and Spanish as pots slammed onto the metal counter. People ran from sink to stove piling plates high with seared meats and roasted vegetables straight from a hot skillet. Raymond spied Janie among the chaos, shouting out orders to a group of skinny teenagers wearing fuzzy reindeer antlers.

“These endive salads need to be on every table in the next six minutes,” she shouted.

“Yes, chef,” the teenagers shouted. Antlers jingled as they nodded their understanding. Janie turned back to her work as the teens scooped up glittering silver trays.

“Uh, Janie? Hi,” Raymond called.

Janie looked up from a flaming stove and dropped her spatula. She cursed as it hit the floor. Raymond stood in the middle of the hallway and waved, a dorky, insecure wave of a man who doesn’t exactly know what he's doing. The teenagers traipsed past Raymond, elbowing him aside to make room through the narrow doorway. The youngest looking girl smirked at his pathetic attempt at calmness. Raymond tucked his hand behind his back and willed his feet to stop jiggling.

“Um, wow, Raymond. What are you doing here?” Janie wiped her hands on her apron as she moved toward him, streaking the black fabric with red and white stains. She smiled, but her face was tense with strain and fatigue. Raymond couldn’t tell if she was happy to see him or not.

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