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He reached out and laid his hand atop hers as she fumbled with the bottle cap. "Did I do something wrong? What can I do to make it up to you, Ashley? I want this to work, but if you’re avoiding me, I don’t know how to fix it."
That seemed to shock her into meeting his eyes. "No, Raf, that’s not… damn. I’m sorry, it isn’t you. I’m just… struggling a little with everything going on for me right now."
Raf forced a weak smile. "It’s not you, it’s me?" he asked, describing the unpleasant conversation more aptly than he was happy about. It was one of those stereotypical conversations where it was almost impossible to know if it was the truth or a white lie to make him feel better—neither would.
Ashley wrinkled her nose. "That did come out pretty horribly, didn’t it?" She took a deep breath and let her eyes drift across the desk before rising to his; she tried to smile. "Can we sit and have lunch? I do want to spend time with you, Raf. Whenever we’re together, everything is perfect. It’s the rest of my life that isn’t."
That was worrisome too, but at least sounded more honest than her first attempt at not answering him directly. He only debated a moment before he started unpacking the soups and plasticware that had come with them. Since she’d had such a specific request, he figured he’d try it, too. Raf wasn’t entirely sure what to say to convince her to let him in; this was still new enough that he could understand on some level if he hadn’t yet earned her trust.
Silence stretched between them, tense and uncomfortable. Even when she sipped her soup and hummed her pleasure, she didn’t actually say anything. He tried his soup, and while it was good, he was too distracted with Ashley’s reticence to really focus on the food. When he noticed that she was fiddling with her spoon more than actually eating, he quickly gave up on the food.
He rose, moving quickly to her side; he plucked the spoon from her fingers and set it in her Styrofoam bowl then scooped her up and slid under her to place her in his lap. Raf stroked her back in small circles, hugging her to him even as she squawked at his abrupt manhandling. It was only when she turned to give him a mock glare that he noticed something strange. Raf sniffed again, sure he was mistaken, but no, there was no sickness in her breath. "I thought you said you were sick." The words were out of his mouth before he could restrain them.
"I…" He squeezed her when her eyes shifted away, betting she was about to make some excuse.
"Don’t. If you’re not going to tell me the truth, just don’t." He rose with her in his arms and placed her back in her chair. He moved back around the desk, reaching for his cooler and leaving her two more bottles of soda in case she wanted them, but started replacing the lid on his bowl of soup. "Clearly this was a mistake."
"No, Raf, please!" She sounded almost in tears, which shocked him into looking at her; sure enough her eyes were glassy. "I’m not sick. I’m pregnant."
She could have knocked him over with a feather. Rafael stood there, staring at her, trying to process the words that kept frazzling his brain. It took a solid minute before he could speak. "You’re what!" he cried. Ignoring her attempts to shush him, his frown deepened as his anger raged to life. "Were you even going to tell me? That’s my child!" Her face was expressive enough that she didn’t have to speak the words for him to know her reluctance. "I can’t believe you, Ashley. You would keep my child from me? It is… my child, right?" The thought only occurred belatedly.
"Of course it is," she began, but he didn’t let her continue, he was too pissed off.
"I don’t know what you were thinking, but I’m going to take care of you and the baby. I’d like you to move into my apartment, actually, so I can do a better job of it, but we can work that out, and we can decide if we’d like to get married first. I—"
"Whether I like it or not, I take it?" she spluttered, interrupting his rant. "You don’t get to just make unilateral decisions for me, Raf. You know what? Get out of my office. I can’t do this now. This is why I didn’t tell you. I can’t believe you." The frown on her face was so fierce it turned her into someone he didn’t recognize. "Out. We’ll talk when I’m ready and not a damned moment sooner!"
Chapter 12 - Ashley
Ashley collapsed in her desk chair as Rafael stormed out of her office, slamming the door in his wake. That had not gone well. Putting her head in her hands, she heard the door open and close again, near-silently. "Not now, Miriam."
"Are you okay?" Her friend sounded worried. "I could hear him shout something, but I couldn’t make out the words." That was a small blessing, at least, if it kept her personal business away from her coworkers.
Ashley sighed and counted to ten in hopes of fending off the tears that wanted to break free. When she finally looked up, Miriam had already moved to the desk to take in the almost uneaten lunch; she was watching Ashley closely enough that she could probably see the tears. "Not now, please, Miriam," Ashley begged. "I really can’t handle this right now."
Her friend didn’t look pleased. "What did he say to you? We can tell security not to let him up again if he’s treating you like that, Ash."
How did Ashley explain to her friend that it was her own fault that he was upset? "It’s not like that. I’ll… we can talk later. I’m going to stick to our 'no personal business at the office' rule."
That only seemed to upset her friend, but when Ashley gave another pleading look, Miriam sighed loudly. "Fine. But you’re coming to dinner at my place, and we are going to talk."
"Done," Ashley agreed, exhausted by the emotional toll of her earlier conversation. "I need to try and get back to work, even if I don’t get much done."
Miriam frowned again, lower lip jutting forward almost in a pout, but she clearly recognized the dismissal for what it was. She did stomp a little as she left, making a point of her displeasure.
Ashley slumped then folded her arms on the edge of her desk and lay her head down. What a mess. She’d known she would have to tell Raf eventually, since she couldn’t in good conscience terminate the pregnancy. She just hadn’t expected it to all come out at once like that. Certainly not before she’d found out if he actually wanted a family.
So much for that! It seemed Rafael would make himself a part of her life from now on, whether she liked it or not. That was what really got to her. Not that he wanted the child; she’d rather assumed that he would. Ashley may not have known him well, but he’d seemed the type not to have really considered starting a family, but who had the same rough idea of a hazy someday that she did. Maybe not the white picket fence, but the two-point-five kids was a good start. Two working parents could have two kids, right? Besides, with his kind of money, they could hire a nanny if they had to—not that it would be her first instinct, but it would allow her to continue working, for example.
Continue working? Ashley groaned and made herself sit up. Just the reminder that she would have to tell her employer she was pregnant to schedule maternity leave made her stomach twist uncomfortably. Now she was glad she hadn’t eaten much more than a couple of crackers. If she told them too soon, she could lose her shot at junior partner. If she waited too long, they’d accuse her of trying to hide it. Now she had to worry about how her boss would take the news, just like she had been worrying about breaking it to Raf.
Rafael had said a lot in very few words, but she’d barely been able to process it. Now she had to think hard to recall the statements. The first, that he’d take care of her and the baby, was a comfort only to the tiny sliver of her that had worried he’d reject her. No, taking care of her seemed to be something Raf took seriously, whether for their date or bringing her soup when she was sick. It was really very sweet.
At least it was until he wanted to 'help' by moving her into his apartment—which was admittedly bigger than hers—and he’d dropped the word 'married' like it meant so little. That was a conversation in itself, and he’d sort of hand-waved away any considerations that might need to be discussed. Those were the biggest issues before them!
Ashley found herself getting angry at him all over again, and she made herself lean back and count down from twenty, taking deep breaths, until her heartbeat was steady and she no longer wanted to strangle her lover. Boyfriend? He’d certainly wanted to start dating regularly, probably thinking it might make a difference in how she saw him compared to their one-night stand that started all of this. Boyfriend would have to do for now. There was nothing saying they had to get married just because they would have a child together—this was the twenty-first century. She wasn’t prepared to even consider marriage until they each knew the other’s hopes, dreams, plans for the future… a whole lot more than they did now, really.
What did she really even know about him? His business persona wasn’t relevant to this, not really. His money would be a nice cushion against future unexpected events, but it wasn’t really something she was going to consider a pro or a con. He could be sweet or fierce, as she’d just seen. Did he normally have a temper? This had been a rather large secret she’d kept from him, so she shouldn’t assume that was a darker side of him that would be a constant, but it was certainly a worrisome point that she hadn’t known him long enough to know for sure. Nothing could help her avoid flashing back to the way his eyes flared with anger or the way his furrowed brows brought harsher angles to his handsome face; he could never be ugly, but the rage-filled glare had not been a good look, either.
