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Loved it so much that she’d have sworn she’d never do anything to put it at risk. Only to end up committing the cardinal sin of sleeping with her boss. Not just once, but twice.
Of course, she knew Cal would never fire her. Not only was it illegal to let someone go because they were pregnant, but he’d made it abundantly clear that he thought she was doing a great job.
But that didn’t mean staying at the foundation would be easy, especially if they couldn’t figure out a way to make things work between them, or come up with an arrangement they could both agree on.
For a very brief amount of time—for the exact amount of time she’d been in blissful ecstasy on Cal’s lap on Catalina Island—she’d let herself fantasize they could have it all. Romance and a great working partnership. She’d wanted to believe they could smash through any walls in their way, leap over any hurdles.
Cal, clearly, didn’t feel the same way. Both times they’d been together, he had immediately disappeared afterward. Yes, he’d said he couldn’t stop thinking about her, but now she realized—too late—that he’d been talking about physical attraction, nothing more.
Instinctively, she pressed the flat of her hand to her stomach. The warm glow lit her up again as she reminded herself that no matter how Cal reacted, she was going to love this baby with everything in her.
Belatedly, she realized Gary was talking. “I’m a stockbroker. It’s fast-paced. When the markets are up, you’re riding high. When the markets are down, you’re freaking out. But then there’s always great deals on great stocks that are undervalued.”
He told her stories about some of his craziest moments on the trading floor. Her meal came, along with another beer for Gary and club soda for her. She realized then why Gary always had leftovers—because he didn’t stop talking long enough to eat. He could probably live happily on a diet of stock deals and leftovers from expensive dates. He could talk and not care that no one listened.
Whereas Cal made it a point to listen more than talk, regardless of who he was with. And instead of spending all of his time working for himself, he chose to run Gideon’s foundation without taking a salary and without spending a dime of the foundation’s money on himself.
Poor Gary, stuck with her as a date tonight. He seemed very nice and was probably talking so much only because she wasn’t talking at all. He could very well be perfect for any other single woman who wasn’t pregnant with another man’s child.
He stopped talking about himself long enough to ask, “Are you all right, Lyssa?”
“Actually,” she said as gently as she could, “I’m really sorry about this, but I should probably go.”
His face fell. “Was it something I said? Did I tell too many stockbroker jokes?”
“There could never be too many stockbroker jokes.” She tried to smile and hoped he bought it. “It’s just that I think you’re a really great guy and I don’t want to waste your time.” She opened her purse. “And now that I’ve ruined our date, I insist on going Dutch.”
He shook his head before she could get the money out. “It’s another guy, isn’t it?” Before she could answer, he added, “I thought as soon as I saw you that any guy lucky enough to have you would never be crazy enough to let you go.”
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his comment. Because Cal had let her go. Twice.
“Thanks again for dinner, Gary,” she said in lieu of answering his question. “I hope you find the woman of your dreams.”
She went home to figure out how to tell the man of her dreams, who had made it abundantly clear that she wasn’t the woman of his dreams, that she was having his baby.
* * *
It came to her as soon as she stepped into the office on Monday morning. She didn’t want to tell Cal over text or email or the phone or on a video chat. News like this needed to be given face to face. And since he was never in San Francisco anymore, she would go to him.
Thankfully, she’d figured out exactly how to do it.
She called Dane. “Good morning. I hope I’m not disturbing you.”
“Actually, I was just about to call you,” he replied.
“You were?”
“Yes. I need you to go to the Caribbean in my place.”
“Seriously? That’s just what I was going to ask you about—if you’re still on board with my attending the meeting with Mr. Westerbourne.”
“Not only on board,” he replied, “but grateful. There’s been a bit of a staff mutiny in the kitchen at my just-opened British resort, and my chef is threatening to walk out. If Henri wasn’t such a big part of the resort’s draw, I’d find another chef, but I need to speak with him in person to find out what’s happening with morale and fix it ASAP. Which means I need you in the Caribbean to tag-team Westerbourne with Cal.”
