I follow Ethan across the room and up a winding staircase. At the top, another man in coattails leads us to a door. He opens it and I see a large table with a spread of food. There's a smaller one with two chairs right next to the window that has just a bottle of wine and two glasses.
Just two?
As soon as the waiter or the butler or whatever he is leaves, I turn to Ethan.
"You said you were meeting someone important," I tell him.
That's the only reason I agreed to accompany him on a Saturday evening.
"I don't see anyone else here."
"I am meeting someone." He takes off his jacket and hangs it on a peg. "You."
I frown. Is this some kind of joke? Aren't we supposed to carry on just as boss and assistant? Then why does this look like a date?
"Don't worry," Ethan tells me. "This place only has a small number of elite clientele, none of whom have a fondness for cheap gossip."
Which means no one will find out we're here.
Wait. Isn't that more troubling? What's with all the secrecy? Did he bring me here to seduce me?
"And no. I promise I'm not going to do anything to you, so please sit."
He pulls out one of the chairs. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed by his words, but I sit down. I try to stay calm, but my thoughts are still racing.
Why did he bring me here? If he just wants to eat with me, why take me to such an exclusive, lavish place? Aren't places like this reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or birthdays or...
I pause as the third option pops into my head.
Ethan isn't going to propose, is he?
That last thought lights a spark of excitement inside my chest, but I quickly put it out.
Don't get your hopes up, Stella. You'll only get hurt.
"Just tell me why we're here," I tell Ethan.
He glances at the table of food. "Don't you want to eat first?"
"I'm not hungry," I say.
It's true. Somehow, even though I haven't eaten since lunch, I don't have any appetite at all. Maybe it's because I'm anxious.
Ethan reaches for the bottle of wine. "What about a drink?"
I shake my head. "No, thank you."
After having just one glass of wine at the bar last night, I felt nauseous. I don't want to risk throwing up in a place like this.
"Please just tell me what we're doing here so I can go home. I'm afraid I'm a bit tired."
I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, after all.
Ethan's eyebrows furrow. "Are you feeling well?"
"Yes. Like I said, I'm just tired."
"Okay." Ethan nods. "I'll go straight to the point, then."
Good, because I can't wait a minute longer.
He opens the briefcase that he brought with him and I wait anxiously for him to bring out a satin box even though my mind is telling me there's no way a man keeps an engagement ring in his briefcase.
Sure enough, I see a brown envelope instead. He places it on top of the table.
I look at it with wide eyes, then at him. "Is that a severance package? Am I being fired?"
"No." Ethan pushes the envelope towards me. "In fact, I guess you could call this a kind of promotion. A very special promotion, just for you."
A special promotion? To what?
I open the envelope and pull out the document that's inside. There are two words on the top of the front page in bold, capital letters.
BABY CONTRACT
My jaw drops. What?
~
I start reading the eleven pages of the contract on top of my dining table.
Eleven pages. Wow.
I was going to read them earlier at that restaurant or club or whatever that was, but Ethan told me not to. Not that I would have been able to digest it with Ethan sitting right across from me staring. He said I should read it very carefully at home and then give him my answer on Monday.
I guess that's what I'm doing now.
I read it from start to finish even though some of the legal jargon is hard on the brain, even though at times I have to pause to let out a gasp or a curse. Then I read it again. All eleven pages. When I'm done, I stare at the front page in disbelief.
A baby contract.
Yup, that's exactly what it is. Basically, it says that I'll agree to have Ethan's baby, and take care of that baby - that child - in secret. In exchange, I'll