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Beautiful Disaster: A Bad Boy Baby Romance by Rye Hart (42)

EXCLUSIVE: SECOND CHANCE SURROGATE ROMANCE: BABY CONTRACT

 

Chapter One

Camille

I tapped my nails against the desk and stared at the clock, my insides roiling. Fifteen minutes late and counting. Stephen wasn't usually one to keep people waiting, which was upsetting enough. But, he wasn't answering his phone or responding to my texts either, which only upset – and worried – me further.

I smiled politely at his team, Ricardo, and Tracey, sitting across from me. This was originally his meeting to run, not mine. The fact that he wasn't there left me feeling put on the spot and more than a little uncomfortable.

Stephen Doyle was my fiancé' and partner in Zesta Creative Design. He was the financial guru who handled the tedious details that allowed me to focus on the fun stuff. Ricardo and Tracey were interns from the local university, both majoring in finance and accounting like my darling beau, and together, we were supposed to go over the position and their responsibilities.

However, given Stephen's absence, it appeared that I'd be handling the meeting alone.

“Alright then, I guess we can get started, and I'll let Stephen take over when he gets here,” I said, trying to sound more chipper than I felt.

I had them flip open the employee handbook Stephen, and I had created together. Ricardo and Tracey followed along with me as I read from the handbook and discussed what they'd be doing in their internship. They had few questions and did little more than stare at me with that deer-in-the-headlights expression on their faces.

“I'm sure Stephen already told you, but we are all about giving you real-world experience,” I said. “There won't be any coffee runs or anything like that. You will be working on budgets and discussing ways that we can grow our business. Your insight is incredibly valuable to Stephen and I.”

Even if it didn't look like he cared by not being there, I knew Stephen would have agreed with me.

I'd turned my face back to the handbook, when the door opened, and my fiancé' stepped through, looking frazzled. His sandy blonde hair, which he kept trimmed short to his head with just a little length on top, was standing on end as if he hadn't bothered to brush it that morning. His eyes were tired, but there was a sparkle in them as if whatever kept him up late last night had been worth it. He'd canceled our date without an explanation, so I had no idea what could have gotten him so excited this morning.

Stephen was a strapping, good-looking man. A former quarterback in college, where we met, he looked like he could step onto the field even today. Usually, he wore designer suits and dressed to perfection, looking every bit the part of CFO. Today, however, he was wearing a button-up shirt and jeans. I cocked an eyebrow as he joined me at the conference table.

“Sorry,” he said. “I had something come up at the last minute.”

He was smiling wide, but he wouldn't look at me. He kept resisting my gaze, instead of delving into the handbook and reading the exact same page I'd just finished up.

“Would you two give us a minute?” I asked.

The interns nodded and slipped out of the room, almost seeming grateful to have an out – if only for a few minutes. Maybe they knew something was up, that the world was about to come crashing down around me and wanted to get outside the blast radius. Or maybe I was just being paranoid. Either way, they scurried out of the conference room like their hair was on fire and waited outside the door.

“Stephen? Is everything okay?” I asked.

“MmmHmm,” he said, finally meeting my eyes.

When he did though, the smile on his face disappeared completely. The look in his eyes was guarded, and his expression was suddenly colder than the Arctic tundra.

“Should we really be having this conversation here, Cam?” he asked.

I shrugged and put my pen down on the table, leaning back in my chair. “You tell me? You're the one who canceled last night, without an excuse,” I said. “And today, you're twenty minutes late to your own meeting. I think I have a right to ask you what's going on. If not as your fiancé', then at least as your business partner.”

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I would rather have this discussion in private.”

“We're alone. No one can hear us through the door,” I said.

My voice started to crack. Over the last year or so, things had grown tense in our relationship. Okay, perhaps a bit more than tense. There was a tension between us that seemed to be growing by the day. His sister had popped out baby number three and Stephen was eager to get started on our family, even though our wedding wasn't scheduled until later in the year.

We figured it couldn't hurt to get started though, so I went off all birth control and figured we'd be pregnant in no time. There we were though, ten months later, and still no pregnancy. I knew it stressed him out, and he'd started distancing himself from me. Maybe I was just being overly-sensitive, but it felt like he thought I was broken, or somehow, less than a woman for not being able to conceive.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Do you remember Jessica?”

“Jessica Harvey? Yeah, of course. She was my assistant for years,” I said.

Jessica had quit our company out of the blue about three months back. It was completely unexpected, and I was still reeling from the shock of losing someone I'd counted on for years, someone I'd considered a friend for so long. We didn't talk much anymore. I tried to get together for coffee dates now and then, just to keep up with her. She was always too busy though – or was just avoiding me, I feared. I wanted to ask her what I'd done wrong, but she'd ghosted me, and that's where we were at.

“Yeah, well, there's something you need to know,” Stephen said. He looked out the large, glass window out to the sprawling city of Los Angeles below. “I've been seeing her for the last few months, and –”

“Wait, say that again?” I stammered.

My chest tightened, and a cold chill swept through my body. I didn't believe my ears. Not at first. As I stared at him, looked deep into his eyes though, I came to see the truth.

“Cammy, I'm sorry,” Stephen said.

His voice didn't sound all that sorry, though. He shrugged and threw his hands in their air. He acted like this was somehow my fault. As if I'd somehow driven him into her arms. Into her bed.

“It just happened. All the stress around us trying - and failing - to have a baby,” he said. “And well, I needed to feel like a man again, I guess. I don't expect you to understand, but this has nothing to do with you.”

“Having a baby was your idea, Stephen,” I scoffed. “You were the one so adamant that we get pregnant right away. It was you that pressured me into going off birth control so your parents would get to meet your children before they passed.”

“Yeah, I know. I know,” he said softly. “It's just sex got to be rather boring, you know? Monotonous. It was like we were just mechanical and clinical about trying to get pregnant and it took some of the fun and pleasure out of it.”

I stared at him, slack-jawed, and fought the urge to smack the shit out of him. I was better than that. I wouldn't let my anger get the best of me, no matter how much of a jerk he was being right now.

“Okay, so why are you telling me this now?” I asked. “Did you end things with her?”

“No, in fact –” he took a deep breath and looked away, “Jessica is pregnant with my child, Camille. It's obvious now why we were having problems. It wasn't me – it was you. I know it sounds harsh, but I can't be with someone who can't give me children. No matter how much I love you.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, and this time, it was my turn to look out the window and away from him. I couldn't stand to look at him, knowing that for months now, he'd been fucking my former assistant and friend behind my back. Knowing that he thought there was something wrong with me because he'd been able to knock her up.

“Get out,” I said.

My voice didn't crack, and I sounded firm. In control. Good for me.

“What? We still have to meet with –”

“I said, get out. I can't be in the same room with you right now.”

“Camille, we have a business to run together,” he argued.

I wiped at my eyes, not allowing the tears to fall. I knew he was right. This company was initially mine, but he'd invested a lot of his own money over the years. Like it or not, we'd have to find a way to work together, at least until I could figure something else out. There was no way in hell I was going to be tied to this man for the rest of my life.

“Fine,” I mumbled.

I packed my things up and put it all into my briefcase as calmly as I could. I was trembling, but I didn't think Stephen could tell. I hoped not. I needed to appear calm and in control of myself. I wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing me fall apart.

“You can meet with your interns alone,” I said. “I'll make myself scarce, and we can talk about the company later.”

“You're handling this better than I thought you would, Cam,” he said.

For a second, I thought I heard the regret in his voice. Like on some level, he realized what an asshole he was being and felt bad. Even if I had though, what good would it do now? The damage was done, and this was one bell that could not be un-rung.

I glared at him. I wanted to scream at him, to tell him what a piece of shit he was. I wanted to lash out. What would that accomplish other than make me look like an unhinged psycho, though? My head was spinning, and I couldn't think straight. Better to cool off before I said or did something I'd regret later. Like he said, we still had a business to run together, and like it or not, we'd have to work together for the good of Zesta. At least, for now.

“For what it's worth, Cam,” Stephen said, his voice soft and filled with emotion. “I'm sorry you're broken. I know how much you wanted to have children of your own, and this can't be easy to hear.”

I clutched my briefcase to my chest, keeping my hands busy instead of using them to show Stephen how I really felt about him. A homicide charge for strangling the life out of him probably wouldn't be a good look for the company. I didn't say another word though, and slipped out of the conference room, coming face to face with the interns who looked at me, puzzled expressions on their faces.

“Stephen is going to take over from here. I have somewhere I need to be,” I lied.

I held my head up high and smiled politely at Ricardo and Tracey as I held the door open for them. Tracey gave me a look, her eyes filled with concern, but then looked away quickly. Ricardo seemed oblivious, ducking into the room and shaking hands with my fiancé' – scratch that, my ex-fiancé.'

I shut the door behind them and hurried down the hall to my office, avoiding eye contact with everyone as I passed. I walked briskly past the cubicles of our employees until I got to the end of the hall, to my corner office, and slunk inside, falling against the door as I closed it behind me.

As soon as I was alone, I didn't have to keep my composure. I let it all out. I slid to the floor and held my knees to my chest. The tears came hard and fast, but there was more than just sadness over the relationship ending – I was pissed about the betrayal. Grief and rage flooded my body in equal measure.

My eyes drifted to the bookshelf behind my desk – to our engagement photos. They'd been taken on a beautiful day in Santa Monica. In the photo, I was smiling, my arms wrapped around Stephen's waist. We looked like the perfect, All-American couple. We looked – happy.

I couldn't believe how wrong I'd been about everything.

I pushed myself up off the floor, walked over to the bookcase and grabbed the photo. I threw it into the trash, the glass in the frame breaking on impact with the hard bottom of the can.

Now that it was over, there was so much we had to do. We'd put in an offer for a house together just last week – a family home where we'd planned on raising our future kids. Or, so I'd thought. What a fucking joke. It was amazing how much could change in a week, how quickly your entire world could be turned upside down. One minute, you're picking out curtains and furniture for your dream house, the next, you're revaluating everything in your life.

I couldn’t have kids. I was broken. I couldn't lie, that thought had been playing in my head on an endless loop as well. We'd been trying for a year with no luck. Not even a scare. My periods had always been messed up, even before birth control. I was diagnosed with ovarian cysts a while back but was told it wasn't bad enough to warrant infertility. They were wrong. All those doctors were wrong.

As if finding out your fiancé' is a cheating scumbag wasn't bad enough, I had to live with the reality that I was broken – as Stephen himself had called me. I slumped into my office chair, leaned my head back, and cried some more. Not just for the loss of my relationship, but also the realization I'd never be able to have kids. Kids were something I'd wanted ever since I was a little girl. I'd grown up always wanting a family, always believing I'd have one.

My heart was completely and utterly broken. Shattered. Laying on the ground in a billion pieces I knew would never be put back together again. Once I'd grieved and had gotten my head back on straight, I knew the next step was figuring out how to split up the business because I wasn't sure I could work with Stephen day in and day out, knowing what he'd done. What made it all the worse, was that the employees who'd trusted us were going to get screwed over too.

Dammit. I slammed my fist down on my desk. The diamond engagement ring caught the light, and I ripped it from my finger. I was tempted to throw it away, but I knew – legally – I'd probably have to give it back. Not that I wanted to. I wanted to be petty as hell and do something stupid like auctioning it off on eBay or something. For now, though, I shoved it in the back of a drawer. It could rot there, for all I cared. Better than being recycled on his baby mama – my once close friend and confidant.

Of course, now it made her ghosting make all the sense in the world.

“You know what you need, Camille?” I muttered, whipping out my phone. “You need a drink.”

I called my best and waited for her to answer. As soon as I heard her voice on the other end of the phone, I relaxed a bit.

“Camille, what's up?” A hint of concern was in her voice already.

“Hey, Liv. You free?”

“I can probably slip away. What's going on?”

I felt the tears building up in my eyes again. Telling Liv would make it more real in my mind. More permanent. But, I also knew she'd have just the thing to get my mind off it all.

“I'll tell you at happy hour, what do you say?” I asked.

“Aren't you still at the office?”

“Yeah, but I'm leaving early,” I said. “I need some air and a glass of wine. Or twelve.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at Nicco's in twenty minutes?”

“Absolutely, yes. Leaving now,” I said before hanging up.

***

“That's bullshit,” Liv said, shaking her head. “What a prick.”

She'd never been one to mince words, and when it came to me, I knew she'd be on my side no matter what. A night with her was exactly what I needed to clear my head and to make a game plan for the future – since apparently, things were not going to go as I'd planned.

Liv and I had been best friends since high school. Freshman year, to be exact. We had an art class together, got on famously, and the rest was history. Of the two of us, she looked more like an artist with her pixie cut black hair, vivid bright purple eye makeup, and cat-eye eyeliner. She was a petite woman, but fierce as hell. That feistiness of spirit was one of the reasons I loved her. Being that I was more reserved, it was nice to have someone who could speak her mind and remind me that I had a right to stand up for myself from time to time. “Right? I mean, one minute he wants a baby. Like that's all he can think about. His sister had her third daughter, and he wants to give his dad a grandson – the first grandson. Alright, fine, I guess we're going to turn this into a race now,” I said, downing my glass of wine. I'd had one glass already, and the rage was finally being released in a safe environment. “And then he tells me that sex is too boring for him now that we're trying for a baby – the baby he wanted in the first place! What a jackass.”

“Complete jackass,” she agreed. “And you really think this Jessica bitch is pregnant with his kid? Pfft, I'm pretty sure he's the one shooting blanks.”

“You think so?”

My voice cracked a bit at the question. I put my glass down on the table and smoothed out my skirt, focusing on my hands instead of Liv. While I could agree that the entire situation was all kinds of fucked up, I still wasn't sure if I believed him about me being unable to have kids or not. I was leaning toward him being right, simply because it made sense. Because somehow, somewhere deep down, I figured this was somehow my fault.

“I think his side piece has a side piece of her own,” Liv said, flagging down the waiter. “And seriously, what better revenge would there be than him realizing she's fucking around on him and then finding out you can really have kids after all, huh?”

“I suppose,” I said, shrugging.

“You suppose?” Liv asked as the waiter poured us more wine. “Wouldn't you love to wipe that smug look off his face and tell him that he's the one who's broken?”

“Well, yeah, but I don't think that's the case, Liv,” I said grumpily.

“Aren't you a Negative Nelly?” Liv said, rolling her eyes. When I didn't say anything, she sighed and added, “Just humor me, alright?”

“Fine,” I said, shrugging. “I guess I have nothing to lose.”

Well, except for all my dreams of one day having a child with a man I loved, sure, but since I already figured that was the case, it wasn't like I'd be getting any worse news.

At least I hoped not.

I didn't think I could take any more.