How to Have Your Boss's Secret Baby - London Casey Page 0,95

I said. “I deserve that.”

“And then some. Mind if I make you a shirt that says that?”

“I’ll wear it.”

“What do you want?”

“What do you think I want?”

“She’s in the shower.”

“Then I’ll wait.”

“No,” Bev said.

“You know this is my apartment, right? I mean, technically I can call the police and ask them to remove you. And Maya.”

“Then do it. She’s pregnant, emotional, and hurt. And you want to kick her out? Go for it.”

I gritted my teeth.

Of course I would never do that to Maya.

This was her place as far as I was concerned. Last thing I wanted was for her to be stuck in Bev’s apartment with the smell of ink.

“Just tell her I was here,” I said. “I wanted to make sure she was okay. I have some meetings, then I want to talk to her.”

“I’ll pass the message along. And, hey, I have something for you. Stay right here.”

Bev disappeared for a few seconds and then threw a shirt at me.

I looked at it and nodded.

“Nice,” I said.

“Do you get it?”

“Yeah,” I said. “It says motherfucker.”

“But… it’s missing a letter,” Bev said.

“Yeah. The u.”

“Do you get it?” Bev asked again.

“You gave me a damaged shirt.”

“No. It’s missing the u on purpose. So, when someone points it out, you tell them you are the motherfucker… meaning you as u.”

I nodded. “Got it.”

Bev slammed the door shut.

For the record, it was the dumbest fucking shirt I had ever seen in my life.

At least I knew Maya was okay.

Now, I could go try to put out another fire.

Mr. Pickle ordered one drink.

For himself.

I nodded, knowing I was fucked.

He looked at me. “How long?”

“What?”

“How long were you fucking her?”

“Is that anyone’s business?”

“Might be mine.”

“You know what? I don’t give a shit anymore then. We slept together in the cabin. Okay? That was the first time we were together. Up to that point it was just normal. Were there feelings? Tension? Maybe. But that night, yeah, I slept with her. She got pregnant. It wasn’t planned. But I stood up and made sure to take care of her. Why didn’t I tell anyone? For this reason, right here. Maya deserves more than to be accused, talked about, and treated like this.”

“She got to you,” Mr. Pickle said. “I thought you were tougher than this.”

“Got to me?”

“Come on, Cole. She spread those nice legs of hers with one thing in mind. To get your baby batter in her womb. You should have had her sign documents in advance. You should have verified she was on birth control. You should have put a condom on.” He leaned toward me. “More than that, you should have showed some goddamn balls when shit hit the fan.”

“Meaning what?” I asked.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Mr. Pickle said through gritted teeth. “She gets pregnant unexpectedly? Take care of it.”

“Are you suggesting…”

“You take care of it,” he said. “Don’t be a fucking pussy.”

Mr. Pickle stood up and grabbed his glass.

Pussy.

He called me a pussy.

I thought about what he said and what it implied. Meaning, what, he got women pregnant before and took care of it?

I thought about Danielle.

The way she just dropped the front of her dress.

That’s who she was.

And I had been the guy who loved it.

“I thought you were different,” Mr. Pickle said. “I chose you for a reason, Cole.”

“So, because I love someone, that makes me unworthy of your time?”

Mr. Pickle laughed with his back to me. “No. You lied. You covered things up. You were fake. Who knows how far that goes, Cole. What’s waiting in those books of yours? I don’t have time to analyze every transaction you’ve ever made. I thought we were working on a lucrative deal between two businessmen. You’re hopeless and desperate. That’s the kind of person who knocks up their fucking secretary. That’s weak. You’re going to be too focused on the baby to be focused on me. I’ll take my money elsewhere. This was nothing but a waste of time.”

I nodded.

That much I agreed with.

“Fuck you too, Mr. Pickle,” I said. “You’re lonely. You’re not worth half of what you think you are. You buy your attention and happiness.”

Mr. Pickle turned around. “Cole, save yourself. Nobody cares what you have to say.”

Maybe that much was true.

But I had another way of being heard.

I flexed my right fist and took a deep breath.

I swung and clocked Mr. Pickle so hard in the jaw, he dropped his glass, fell to his right into the bar, and then slowly slid down