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“If Gus likes her, you should seriously consider her. Gus has good instincts.” About most things, though apparently she had terrible taste in men. “And I need to look at this the way you are. Finding female companionship should be a logical choice. I need the right woman. I need someone who understands the job, who won’t feel as though I’m ignoring her.”
“Someone who doesn’t care?”
Frustration slithered through him, a snake threatening to bite him. “Make up your mind, Zack. Either I’m an asshole for holding on to a woman who is clearly better than I deserve or I’m shit for being analytical and unemotional. Besides, you’re one to talk. You’re the one who’s actively auditioning political wives.”
Zack stared down at his glass, swirling the expensive amber liquid around. “Yes, but I’ve never once felt about a woman the way you do about Gus. I’ve never had one knock me on my ass, and I’ve realized it’s never going to happen. I’m not capable of that sort of passion. It’s best if I make a deal. I don’t want to hurt whomever I marry because I’m incapable of love. I’m going to be upfront and honest, build a partnership with her.”
That sounded so shallow and empty and…so easy. “What if you meet someone who knocks you on your ass?”
Zack shook his head. “Never going to happen. I’m too cold. I hate that about myself. I hate even more that my dad’s trait in this matter seems to have prevailed. I try to connect to women but I never do. I would settle for a pleasant friendship. But I can only be passionate about one thing: The Oval.”
That was something they agreed on—always. But Zack was wrong. He’d been passionate about his friends for years. He’d put himself and his career on the line for them more than once. Zack was nowhere near as cold as he thought.
But Roman felt a terrible chill envelop him. Without Gus to warm him, he had nothing left to do except embrace the cold.
Sucking back the pain, he raised his glass to Zack. “To the Oval.”
* * * *
Augustine Spencer strode away from the townhouse, desperate to put distance between her and her Waterloo. That was how she would forever think of this night and this place. She had made her stand.
And she’d lost.
She wasn’t going to cry. She refused to. She was a grown-ass woman. And she might be leaving with a broken heart, but at least she’d keep her dignity.
“Hey, Gus. Please let me drive you.”
Damn it. Mad was on her tail, and she knew he wouldn’t let her put him off. For all his charming ways, Mad was actually a bit like a tick when he wanted to be. He dug in and nothing would persuade him to let it go. She had to convince him that she was okay.
Gus stopped and turned, forcing a smile. “Mad, I’m good. You remember what they taught us in lacrosse. Walk it off, baby. My ankle actually feels much better.”
She was worried about something else far more personal than her ankle, but she hoped the cramping pain would soon go away. After all, her baby had only been growing inside her for a few weeks. It would be so tiny nestled deep inside her right now.
The baby Roman had never, ever wanted. So it would be hers and hers alone.
“I hated all sports, Gus. You know that.” He reached for her hand. “And I’m also not as unaware as you think. You love him.”
Oh, but she couldn’t anymore. She forced herself to laugh, although when she really thought about it, she should be laughing at how stupid she’d been. Roman Calder had never lied to her. He’d never promised her anything but a good time in bed. In the beginning, that had honestly been all she wanted anyway. She loved sex, and he was good at it. She made no apologies for her high-voltage libido.
But somewhere along the way, she’d fallen in love with him. She hadn’t dated or taken another lover since the first time they’d gone to bed together, though she suspected he couldn’t say the same.
“I don’t love Roman. I’m not that girl.” But she feared she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Mad. He knew her better than she sometimes knew herself. They had a lot in common.
“Gus, don’t bullshit me. I know.”
She went still. “You know what?”
“Everything.” He leaned against his Porsche, his eyes on her. The streetlight beamed a circle of light down on them, and she wished suddenly the street wasn’t so well maintained. She would prefer shadows to Mad’s probing stare. “I stopped by your place last week to drop off that book you loaned me. I let myself in with my key and before I left I used the bathroom.”
She froze. It had been a terrible mistake to let Mad have a key to her place, but he stayed there sometimes when he was in town. She had an extra bedroom, and Zack and Roman often had too many things going on to spend time with him. Mad could be quite needy, though he hid it behind his party-boy image. He didn’t like to be alone, so they spent platonic, friendly time together.
Panic tore through her. “You can’t tell Roman.”
Mad doubled over with a low groan. “Shit. I was hoping that pregnancy test wasn’t yours. You’re really pregnant, Gus?”
Well, she’d known it wasn’t ideal. “That’s my business and no one else’s.”
She turned to go. If Mad ratted her out, it wouldn’t matter. In Roman’s eyes, she was nothing but a convenient piece of ass. He probably wouldn’t even think the baby was his. By morning, she would have her plans in place. She would quit the DC firm and go home to NOLA and beg the firm there to take her back.
She’d been such a stupid, naive girl. Now it was time to be a woman.
Mad caught up to her. “Nope. This is not just your business anymore. What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to have a baby.” She’d thought about this every second of every day since she’d taken that pregnancy test she shouldn’t have left on the bathroom counter. She should have thrown it out, but looking at it had filled her with excitement, knowing she was growing a tiny being that would forever be a blend of her and Roman.
She’d wanted to keep the proof that their child existed.
“You’re having Roman’s baby.”
“No, I’m having mine. Not ten minutes ago, Roman made it clear that he has zero interest in either marrying me or having children. He’s going to double down on the Zack Hayes method of arranged marriage.”
“They’re idiots, Gus. And he’ll come around. He’s probably in there right now realizing what a mistake he made.”
“I don’t see him running after me.” She gestured toward Roman’s house.
Yeah, some small part of her had wanted that, too. Her foolish heart had even believed he would dash out the door after her because that was what they did. They fought, someone s
tormed out, the other coaxed the first back in, and they ended up in bed. They’d always fixed everything with sex.
She’d thought she would already be in Roman’s arms by now, that he’d be carrying her to his bed as he often did, whispering to her that everything would be all right. All they needed to do was to stop talking with their mouths and start talking with their bodies.
But he wasn’t coming after her this time. He’d been plain. Now everything felt more wretched because she realized he hadn’t been biding his time, waiting for the right moment to tell everyone about them. He’d never intended to tell anyone.
She’d been his dirty little secret.
“Well, he will after he finds out about the baby,” Mad swore.
That was the last thing she needed. Well, almost. She needed this cramping in her stomach to end, too. But she didn’t want a shotgun wedding. She’d always wanted a loving, stable marriage, like her mom and dad shared. She’d never get that kind of love from a man who was forced to marry her.
“Please, Mad. I don’t want him to know.”
He stared back at the house, and she could practically see the wheels in his brain turning and turning. Mad was the king of crazy plots. “All right, then. There’s only one thing to do.”
“I’m going home to New Orleans.”
He frowned. “I thought you were taking the DC job.”
She shook her head. “I can’t as a single mother. The hours are too grueling. Believe me, I want that position more than ever. I need it to take my mind off Roman, but I have to think of my baby. I’ve got a great trust fund, but I don’t want him or her raised by nannies. When I thought I’d have Roman by my side, I was willing to take the chance and try the family thing. Now I have to go home to New Orleans so my baby can have some kind of male role model I don’t have to pay by the hour. My dad has been talking about retiring. Dax will be home every now and then. I’ll tell him I don’t know who the father is. He’ll believe it.”
“Tell him I’m the father. He’ll believe that, too.”
“What? Mad, this is not the time for one of your schemes.” She wanted to cry, but she needed to get away from here and regroup.
