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How could he not? Annie’s place has a sign on it, and it’s not subtle.
I consider running away. Somehow, I suspect Jake can run faster than a pregnant lady who’s never run more than a half a mile at full speed.
It doesn’t matter what choice I make though, because Jake is standing feet away from me just a second later, hurt and disgust all over his face. He looks from me to the sign, and then back at my belly, where his unborn child is growing.
“Are you fucking… Jesus, Janie… are you serious?” His face is red, and the veins on his neck are bulging. His mouth works as he tries to find words.
Mine does too. What do I say right now?
“I’ve been calling you for over a month,” he says, his voice getting louder. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“Jake, I…” but there’s nothing I can realistically say. Before, when I could have called him and told him, I would have been able to plan something or think out what I would say, but I haven’t even done that. Every time in the last month that I’ve imagined that conversation starting, I just put my mind on something else.
Now, I wish I’d spent the time playing that scenario out. At least I’d have something prepared.
Jake stares at me, waiting, but I’ve got nothing. Finally he rubs his face with both hands, and looks away. “And ah… I mean… is it mine?”
“The fuck do you mean, ‘is it yours’?” I ask, suddenly angry at the suggestion. Only after it’s out of my mouth do I realize it’s a completely rational thing to ask, but that doesn’t make me take it back. I’m committed. If we’re going to have this out, let’s have it out.
But that isn’t what happens. Jake looks like I hit him hard in the gut, and shakes his head slowly as he turns to leave.
“Jake…” God, I want to say something better. Something that fixes everything. Think, think…
“You can’t keep my own child from me, Janie,” Jake says as he leaves me. “Don’t even think about trying.”
I watch him go, stunned and numb. No, not numb. Terrified.
Terrified and racked with guilt that I absolutely deserve.
It takes until I’m back at Red Hall, locked in my office, before I work up the nerve to call Jake.
Well, almost. Each time my finger hovers over the call button, I try to rehearse what I’ll say. Every time, it sounds pathetic.
“I was going to tell you, but I wanted to make sure I got through the first trimester and the baby was healthy.” Christ, that’s not better than hiding it from him, and what, I was just going to wait three months?
“I’m actually not sure it’s yours and didn’t want to cause a panic.” Yeah, because tell him I’ve been sleeping all over town will get me some sympathy. The timing is too perfect. No way that will work.
“You’re a ma
nipulative asshole who broke my heart and I never planned on telling you anything.” Honesty isn’t always the best policy — especially when I was honestly being kind of a bitch. What mother keeps a child away from her father? That’s a can of worms…
Nothing sounds right in my head, and in every case I imagine the verbal beating I’m probably going to take from him. Worse, I imagine the fallout afterward. Jake has the kind of resources that could hire lawyers. Good ones. Better ones than I can afford and more of them. Calling or not calling, though, probably won’t change the reality of that.
So I put my phone away, and again slide this event back on my calendar. I’ll do it. Just… not right now.
It’s half an hour until dinner service. I wipe my eyes, and smooth my dress. I have to keep my shit together — if not for me, then for my staff. This is a critical juncture. Tonight, Lacey is delivering the last taste-teasers before the launch party. The reception so far has been incredible, and there’s tons of buzz around it. We’re under consideration for a Michelin star, for fuck’s sake. Now is not the time to break down.
And yet, when I see Gloria schmoozing it up with one of the foodie bloggers that’s here for the final taste-teaser, I nearly lose my shit. Gloria flashes her eyes at me, and I can see in that slight smile on her smug face that she wants me to be thinking precisely what I’m thinking — that any moment she’ll tell the world about my situation and all this will go spiraling down the drain.
All I can do is separate them and have the talk I’ve been avoiding with her, so that’s what I do. “Gloria?” I ask pleasantly as I approach. “I have a few things I want to go over with you about tonight. You mind meeting me in the office?”
“Oh, I think I’ve got a handle on it,” Gloria says.
My smile is stiff. “It’ll only take a minute. I want your input on a few ideas.”
Gloria smiles approvingly at me, and turns to her temporary friend. “If you’ll excuse me — it’s a big night! We definitely want to get it just right.” As if accomplishing that requires her input; which is exactly what I meant to imply. I know the game we’re playing, even if we haven’t set terms yet.
She follows me back to the office, where I invite her in before I close the door behind us.
