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A younger woman who didn’t look old enough to be out of grad school entered the room with a box in her hands. "This was delivered for you. I signed for it; I hope that’s alright."
Ashley smiled at the relatively-new receptionist. "Should be fine. Let’s see what it is, and I can tell you for sure. Some things may want the lawyer’s signature specifically, so you may want to ask or check with the individual lawyer. I don’t have anything coming that’s that urgent." The box was a strange size, about a foot by a foot and a half on top but only a couple of inches tall. She opened it to find an envelope and a black box of similar dimensions with the American Express logo on it. "This is for me?" She had to check the outside of the box. It certainly was clear enough, her name, the firm’s name, and the detailed street address. It was only when the receptionist shifted uneasily that Ashley even remembered she was there. "Oh, yes, thank you for signing for this. It’s fine that you did." She tried to smile the woman out of her office, but unless she was mistaken, she knew what card AmEx shipped in black boxes like that. And she had no business with one.
A little bit shaken, she reached for the box but realized the answers she wanted were probably in the envelope. Still, she set that aside and ripped into the box to find another handspan-wide square box inside, and when she opened that, there was a black wallet with an ornate black credit card presenting the centurion upward. She plucked the card from the wallet and stared at her name in silver raised type. There was no mistaking it. How on earth had this come to her?
Ashley grabbed the envelope next, clutching the card in one hand like her life depended upon it. Tearing into the heavyweight paper—it was not just the standard cheap envelope, nor was the cardstock inside—she pulled out a folded notecard that was blank ivory with an artistic golden sun in the center. Opening it, her heart beat twice as fast, for the immediately-visible signature at the bottom was "Love, Raf".
She pressed the credit card to her chest with a deep breath in and out, trying to wrap her head around the enormity of him giving her a black card. It took her a moment to actually read the notecard, she was still so off-kilter.
Ashley, please forgive me for how rude I was when I found out you were pregnant. I wasn’t trying to be controlling, everything I said was because I’m naturally protective, even when so startled. I want you to be safe, happy, and secure, and I want our child to know how much I love their mother. I’m dying a little more every day I don’t hear from you. Please use this card whenever you want, for whatever you wish. It’s the least I can do. I hope you might consider calling me, because I miss you terribly. Love, Raf.
She stared at his words, trying to settle her suddenly riotous thoughts. The idea that he loved her fractured any attempts to put cohesive thoughts together. He couldn’t love her, could he? They had barely been together a couple of months, and that was going by how far along she was in her pregnancy, which didn’t even count as having been "together" at the time. Her thoughts skittered in other directions, too. Had he just given her a blank check to do with his money what she wanted to? It wasn’t like she wanted his money, but it sounded like he was trying to make up for his boorish behavior with a gift of whatever her heart desired, and when she considered it like that, the gesture went a long way toward resolving some of her upset feelings. It would also make it ridiculously easy to buy some books on childbirth and parenting, among other things she knew she needed to get in the next six months. She had a feeling he had been thinking along those lines, too, since the first thing out of his mouth when he’d found out had been about taking care of her.
Now that she’d had his friend to call on for answers, and any financial concerns over single-mother parenthood had been erased, she realized that while she was prepared to do this alone if she had to, she didn’t really want to. No, she wanted to find an acceptable middle ground between the crazy ideas Raf had spouted and what she wanted. She also immediately had the urge to go thank Rafael in person, and show him the ultrasound photos she’d saved to her phone.
First, however, she needed to brave her boss. She had time enough that she could wait, admittedly, but she knew they weren’t going to fire her on the spot for wanting a family. Better they knew she was being upfront with them. On her way to the office, she decided she wanted to take some time off, too, so that she could actually stop moving full-speed ahead and sit back and enjoy the fact that she was starting a family. With Raf, hopefully.
She tapped politely on her boss’ door, almost immediately hearing the call to enter. When she stepped inside, he was on the phone, but his eyes flicked up and he smiled at her. "Yes," he told the phone. "That will be fine. I need to go now. Goodbye." After he hung up, he gave her a better smile. "Miss Seaver. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Bluntness tended to get the most results with him, she’d learned. "I’ve found out that I’m pregnant. Early days yet, but I’ll need to plan ahead for my maternity leave. I also need to take some personal time off next week to get my own affairs in order."
He blinked, seeming startled by her declaration, but then a small frown creased his forehead. "You know you’re up for that promotion, Ashley," he said slowly.
She frowned. "And?"
"And frankly, if you’re going on maternity leave, you’re not going to get it."
She gritted her teeth hard rather than cursed at him. "I won’t be going anywhere for six months minimum! That’s ridiculous!"
He shrugged. "May be. But it doesn’t change the likelihood. New junior partners will need to be available constantly for the first year at least. It’s part of the understanding of making them junior partners, so that they’re roped into more."
Ashley gave him a sneering smile. "I need to make plans for my family. Are you going to argue me taking the time off next week, too?" Before he could answer her, she gave him a knowing look. "And perhaps you should be aware, Mr. Foster, that I’ve received two offers of jobs elsewhere in the last couple of weeks." She didn’t need to specify that they were both really offers for the same position, and that she didn’t actually want to work for her boyfriend—what Foster didn’t know wouldn’t kill him.
She saw the slight hitch in his facial expression when she challenged him, but he was a talented lawyer. It barely made a dent. "If you have the vacation time to use, Miss Seaver, you are free to do with it what you wish. Thank you for being so forthcoming."
Ashley bobbed her head and retreated, considering it at least a partial success. Later she would fume about them denying her a promotion because she was pregnant, and she’d probably even consider suing them over it, but that could be later. Right now, she had a dragon shifter to track down.
She called Raf’s office only to be told he’d left for the day, so she turned toward Club Phoenix. Something Chas had said about Raf drinking too much had stayed with her, so she could at least hope she’d find him in a semi-public place rather than alone sulking. Just like the night she’d gotten pregnant, Raf’s fancy embossed Club Phoenix business card got her through the front door without needing to wait through the line. It was early enough that the dance floor wasn’t busy, there were just some more serious-looking pockets of people sharing drinks or food. She didn’t immediately see Raf in the room, however.
She headed toward the bartender only to hear her name.
"Ashley?"
She turned to see a well-dressed man with one eyebrow quirked up in her direction. "Yes?"
"I thought that was you. He’s in back. It’s not open to the public, but…" His eyes shifted slightly, and she almost wondered if he was checking her out. "I think under the circumstances, it’ll be better if you go to him."
"Circumstances?" She let him lead her toward the back of the room, where a bouncer stood in front of a draped door she might have completely overlooked if she hadn’t been led right to it.
"He’s had a fair bit already. And you’ll have a bit more privacy." When they approached the bouncer, whoever the suit-clad man was just nodded at him. "This is Raf’s girlfriend, Ashley. Consider her an honorary shifter for the back, will you?"
The meaning of that sunk in slowly, each layer of his comment triggering new thoughts. That he recognized her on sight was enough of a surprise, but to leap from girlfriend to honorary shifter, not to mention the implication that the back was intended only for shifters, was something she was going to need time to process.
The bouncer glanced at her, nodded, and reached for the door, only for someone to shove it from the other side, bashing the bouncer’s hand when he didn’t retreat quickly enough. Ashley was caught up in Raf’s arms, and she sank into his embrace, not caring that they didn’t have privacy. "You’re here." His voice had all the smoothness of sandpaper and sounded more like he’d been run over by a truck than drinking strong spirits, though the scent was sharp around him.
"I am," she agreed, reaching in her pocket for her phone. "I got your note, and I needed to show you something."
He didn’t pull back particularly far, but it was enough for him to cock his head slightly and examine her from head to toe. "Are you okay?"
