Chapter 23

Lillie

I stared at the plastic stick in my hand and was having trouble breathing. It couldn’t be true. There it was, though… the notorious pink plus sign.

I was pregnant.

I’d suspected something when I missed my cycle. I’d been classically precise since my first menses at the age of twelve. The first day I’d written off to stress. The second to inadequate sleep and nutrition. The third day I crossed the street to the convenience store and now, I was sitting in the bathroom and holding the incriminating proof in my hand.

Damn! This wasn’t the way I wanted it to be. I’d always pictured a wedding, a man who loved me and would toss me into the air and twirl me around when I told him I was pregnant. I never imagined it happening in a cold, impersonal bathroom at the Ramada Inn. I never expected to be alone.

I hadn’t heard from Chris since the night he’d dropped me off at the Ramada portico. I was in survival mode; getting the odd temporary assignment that paid enough to keep me under a roof and fed, up to a point. Now that would all change. I couldn’t raise a child in a motel room.

I couldn’t go to Chris. He’d made it perfectly clear from the beginning that he ‘wasn’t the marrying kind.’ He didn’t want children and since I’d not heard from him for so long, I was sure he didn’t want me, either.

So, there I sat, bawling like a baby with my knees spread and the pink plus sign condemning me to a life of secrets and disappointment. There went any plans of re-opening the bakery. There went the plans of finding a career job that earned good money and allowed me to travel and provide a better life for my parents. There went a house, a new car and a chance to find the man who would spend his life with me. Now I was nothing more than an unemployed, unwed mother.

There was no question of keeping the baby. That’s how I was raised and even if that weren’t true, I would never give up the only thing I had left that belonged to Chris. I could be carrying his son and heir, although he’d never learn about it from me. I would get through it on my own. I was made of tough stuff, right? Then why was I crying—again?

My parents. Oh, my god. They would love to bounce a grandbaby on their knees, but it would bring them shame. They were strict and there was no room in their lives for an unwed mother. There was the very real possibility that Papa would even disown me. He was that strict. We’d seen the pitiful cakes for the quickly thrown together weddings over the years. He’d always clucked his tongue and shaken his head, muttering that the bride was white trash. Now I’d joined their ranks.

What had I been thinking?

I felt a panic creeping over me and quickly grabbed my coat and purse and went down to get into my car. I rode by the bakery lot and saw the notices still posted there. It was so humiliating, and I was sure the entire neighborhood talked about the Lemmings and how they’d fallen apart and had become an embarrassment. Even if it weren’t for the taxes, the city would have required Papa to demolish the rest of the building and level the lot. He couldn’t afford that, and neither could I. There was an hysteria building.

I bought a small can of V-8 juice; my attempt at good nutrition and then went back to the Ramada Inn and turned back the covers. I lay in the daylight, staring at the ceiling and counting my sins. I was very good at that.

My cell rang and I picked it up.

“We’ve got another client,” said the woman from the temp agency.

Well, maybe this was a sign. Maybe things would begin looking up. I couldn’t get a full-time job; no one would hire a pregnant woman with no place to live and no one to look after the baby. I had consigned myself to a lifetime of temp jobs.

“Okay, that’s great. Where do I go and when am I supposed to be there?”

She gave me the necessary information and I disconnected, falling asleep with the tidbit of work that I’d get the next day—I hoped.

I dreamed of Chris. We were in Paris, but Marga wasn’t there. It was our honeymoon—exactly one year from the day I’d made the wish into the snowflake sky. I was so happy, and my parents were beaming at the catch their daughter had made. They were going to the old neighborhood to brag about it. Chris couldn’t keep his hands of me and Corey and Daphne were our witnesses. I felt so happy. It was perfect…until…the alarm went off.

I clawed my way out from beneath the covers and quickly peeked out the heavy drapes. It had snowed overnight which meant I had to hurry. I’d have to scrape and warm up the car before I could drive. I jumped into a shower so quick the water never had a chance to warm up. There was no time for my hair, so I drew it back into a bun and applied a minimum of make-up. I went through my wardrobe and pulled out the standby navy suit—now needing a good dry-cleaning. It didn’t matter. Before long I wouldn’t even fit in it.

The office building was downtown, in the high rent district. An elevator with brass appointments and walls of glass skimmed me upward to the twentieth floor. I tried not to think about the height, but focused on the floor and the fact that it was still only five feet, two inches below me. Well, relatively speaking. The elevator dinged as it stopped at the floor and I pasted on my professional smile, gripped my resume with my handbag and was ready as the doors parted.

What greeted me was hardly what I expected. There was no receptionist, in fact not even a counter for her to sit behind. I looked to the left and right, but I only saw cubicle-sized offices without furnishings or people. I stepped back, holding open the elevator doors. I must have gotten off on the wrong floor. I stepped inside and looked up at the floor indicator. No, it showed this as the twentieth floor, no question about it.

I stepped out again, pausing to get my bearings without looking straight ahead at the bank of windows and the stomach-wrenching drop to the ground. I’d really developed a hatred of heights.

It was dead quiet. I was even too far up to hear the noises from the street below.

“Hello?” I finally tried.

I heard the sound of a desk drawer slamming somewhere around the corner of the hallway. Waiting patiently, a distant male voice called, “Be right there!”

I quickly checked my hair and straightened my skirt. When I looked up, he was standing in front of me.

It was Chris.

“Wha…what are you doing here? I’m here on an interview.”

I felt the tears rising to my eyes. He looked so handsome, so tall and strong and safe. I wanted to throw myself at him, to cry and tell him I was carrying our baby and how much I’d missed him and I’d be willing to live with him as his mistress if he’d just take care of the baby and me and let me be with him….my god, I’m rambling. Speak, you idiot!

“Hello, Lillie.” His voice was tentative but I could see emotion in his eyes.

“I don’t understand…”

“It’s okay. You’re in the right place.”

“What? But this is an empty suite of offices. What is this, Chris? Another elf job?” I couldn’t keep the bitchiness out of my voice. He’d dumped me and I deserved to be a little bitchy.

“You look wonderful,” he said softly, taking a step toward me. I instantly took an identical step backward.

“Chris, what’s going on?”

“Okay, follow me.”

For once in my life, I did as I was told, without argument. I trailed him down the hallway and around the corner. He stopped in the doorway of a large room and waited for me to pass by him.

The room was gorgeous. I could only describe it as being the female version of an executive suite. There was a large, teak desk with ornate carvings and brass fittings. The chair was high-backed and covered with tapestry. Matching drapes glamorously revealed the floor to ceiling windows and huge, potted palms stood in groupings with uplights and a fountain that fed a soothing sound into the room. There was a small sofa, upholstered in a solid green and matching side chairs with a teak side table between them. The lamps were stained glass in a Tiffany style and thick, oriental carpets covered the floor. I could see through a glass half-wall into the next room which was patterned after this one, although in a more sedate fashion. It probably belonged to a secretary.

“What do you think?” he asked me.

“It’s breathtaking, but frankly, it doesn’t look like you, Chris. I see you in something more modern, maybe glass?”

“That’s because it’s not for me.”

“Okay. Is the assignment to work with someone else? Are they here?”

“They’re here, but it’s not someone else. It’s you. This office is for you, Lillie.”

I shook my head, backing out of the doorway. “No, no, Chris don’t do this.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Don’t you like it? We can change it around. Order whatever you like.”

“No! Now stop it!”

“Woah, Lillie! Why are you so upset?”

“Listen to me, Christopher Tolliver. I know you have a lot of money and a lot of power, but you hooked me with those before and I ended up alone in a Ramada Inn for the past two months. I’m out of money and I’m desperate, but I’m not going to become your elf or whatever weird job you can put together for me just so you have someone to sleep with. Not going to happen.”

I turned to leave, but he caught my arm. “My god, Lillie, is that what you think this is?”

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around. I said nothing. Let him hang himself.

“Come in, please and sit down. We need to talk. I have a lot to tell you.”

“Like what?”

“Like why you haven’t heard from me in almost two months, for one.”

I felt a spark of hope in his words. Could he have a logical, perhaps even reasonable explanation? Other than he was a confirmed bachelor? He had no idea what I was carrying and wouldn’t know. I had to protect the baby. He had a lot of money and could probably get custody if he wanted to. I went on the defensive.

“I really am not interested. There isn’t anything you could say to undo the hurt I’ve felt.”

“You were hurting?”

I kept my back to him.

He grabbed me by the shoulder and twirled me around. “Lillie, answer me. Were you hurting?”

The tears bubbled up and I nodded, looking downward.

He wrapped his arms around me. “My god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to hurt. I thought you were full of fire and plans to build a future. I had to let you be on our own until… well, come and please sit down, Lillie. I really need to tell you.” He bent down and kissed my lips, wet with tears. He pulled me hard against his chest and finally, in that moment, I felt the strength I’d dreamed about. I wanted to pour out my soul and woes, but my stubbornness was holding me back.

I stiffened with resistance.

“Damn it, Lillie. Listen to me, hear me out. I swear you won’t be sorry.”

I gave up, defeated. I had nothing left to fight with. I nodded and he led be to the sofa and gently pushed me to sit down. He took a few steps and tapped a button, opening a built-in bar. He poured two brandies and held one out to me. I went to take it, but remembered and waved it away. “I haven’t eaten,” I said as an excuse. “It’s too early.”

He didn’t argue but went back to the bar and returned with a soft drink and a glass. That, I took. My stomach was gurgling.

He sat down on one of the side chairs opposite me, taking a deep gulp from the brandy before setting the snifter down on the table.

“I need you to do me one favor. Please, please, sit there and hear me out. You will want to hit me, you will want to leave. But, please, Lillie, just hear me out. Can you do that for me?”

What on earth does he have to tell me? Did he get married? Of course! I looked at his left hand, preparing myself to see a ring, but there was none. Maybe he’s just engaged and not married yet.

“Lillie, will you hear me out?”

I had nowhere to be and I was dressed for the day. I may as well stay. At least I’d know the finality of it and just maybe I’d leave this building and get into the car. I’d drive south until I hit the ocean and I’d start my life over again.

He was talking. I nodded and settled back.

“I’m not sure where to begin, even though I’ve rehearsed this a hundred times. You have no idea how much sleep I’ve lost over this moment, Lillie. Just hear me out, as you promised.”

“Start at the beginning,” I said a bit cattily. “Isn’t that what they say?”

“Okay. First, I need to tell you about my business. I’m a professional entrepreneur. I start businesses and grow them for the challenge. The money isn’t important – just a way to keep score. My company owns the line of shops called Carolina’s Emporium and Tea room. I know you’ve heard of them, I can tell by the way your eyes just flared. Please, keep listening. Will you?”

I was feeling ill and took a sip of the drink in my hand. “Go on,” I choked out, feeling sicker by the second.

“I want to hold you so badly, but if I sit next to you, I won’t be able to tell you. I have to stay where I am.”

I waved at him to continue.

“Okay, so as you know, my shops are upscale, and I’ve been opening several each year. I try to make each one a little nicer, a little more unique than the last. I’d decided to give them a European influence and that was why I was on that business trip to Paris and Bremen.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but there was nothing to say. He hadn’t stolen my idea—he was two steps ahead of me.

“As you know, I volunteer for the Santa thing and I really did call the agency looking for an elf. You just happened to be who they sent. It was pure coincidence. You know what happened from that point on, but what I have to talk about is what led up to that. You see, I have this partner, Steve Perkins.”

“I know the name,” I mentioned and had to swallow hard to keep from being sick.

“I was afraid of that. Well, Perkins is a partner in name. He and I don’t share philosophies and I was on the verge of buying him out when all this happened. He’d backed me into a corner to take him on as a partner and I regretted it the next second. But, that’s on me. One day, the day I opened my forty-ninth shop, we passed by your family’s bakery. I mentioned that I liked the location and asked him to look into whether your family may be willing to sell. This is where it gets sticky. I told Steve to ‘do what it takes’ – but not in the way you’re thinking. I swear to you. I meant that he should offer you whatever amount of money you asked for. I wanted the location and would build a model of my other shops. I wasn’t going to keep Flemming’s as it was. Then, I found out about the fire and I went to him. I asked him whether he had anything to do with it. He swore to me he hadn’t. He said it was all coincidence.”

My eyes were huge as I was processing the fact that Chris had been even remotely involved in my family’s loss. “Who started the fire?”

His tone of voice rose, suggesting he knew this was the sticky part. “This was the part I didn’t want to tell you, Lillie. I knew you wouldn’t believe me and I’d lose you. I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t know until we had dinner that night that you were part of that Flemming family. I was trapped by that point. I liked you too much. I didn’t know at that point that the fire was anything but an accident, I swear to you.”

I was boiling. “Go on,” I said shortly.

“When you told me on the trip that you wanted to rebuild, I was shocked. Your plans and mine were in tandem and I realized how much we were alike. I could see us as partners. But there was no way I could tell you that I’d been connected to your tragedy. I knew you’d hate me.

“Then the whole thing blew wide open. When you told me about Corey and his affair, I confronted him on the phone. He laughed in my face, threatening to expose me to you and to the police as an arsonist. Steve had gotten to him, set him up and encouraged Corey to turn against me. Corey was feeling so damned guilty, he took advantage of it. We argued. That’s why I cut the trip short. I had to get back and straighten out the mess.

“I couldn’t have you near me. It was too dangerous. That’s why I left you at the Ramada, despite wanting to kidnap you and take you home with me to live. I had no choice—Steve had seen to that. I hired an intel guy who went through the books. He uncovered a trail that showed Steve had been stealing from the company, at the rate of three million a year. There were two sets of books. His copy showed a payment to a guy named Dillon. My guess is that’s who he hired to start the fire at your bakery. He put my initials there as the authorizer, framing me for the arson. His plan was to set me up for the fall and then activate a clause in our contract that would give him the company if I was convicted of a felony. He had it all laid out.”

By this point, I was intent on his story, not believing what I was hearing. My anger had dissipated, and I was actually feeling defensive on Chris’ behalf. “Go on,” I encouraged him.

Well, my attorney helped me. We set up Steve and had his doctored books to prove our case. I had to keep you at a safe distance until I could clear myself. I couldn’t take you down with me. I also had to straighten out Corey and now he and Daphne are in counseling and I think Corey is feeling like an ass. That’s good. Marga says hello, by the way.” He smiled.

“Hello to Marga.”

“Okay, so now Steve has been arrested and the books given to the authorities. He and his wife will do time, but he will personally be out of circulation for at least twenty years, my lawyer tells me. As for Carolina’s, I’m selling it to a group of Japanese businessmen. I know they’ll let it fail – they don’t understand Americans.”

I was silent for a few long moments. I threw out my hands and gestured to the walls. “And this? What’s this all about.”

“It’s yours.”

“For what?”

“I owe it to you. What’s more, I want to be a part of it with you.”

“A part of what?”

“Flemming’s. I want you to rebuild your bakery, just as you’d planned. I will back you financially for a quarter stake, but the company belongs to you. When you can pay me back the money you need to borrow, the whole thing reverts to you.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, Lillie, I’m not. And here’s the down payment.”

He handed an envelope toward me. I took it and looked inside. My mouth dropped open. “How did you do it?”

Inside was the deed to the original Flemming’s Bakery building, in my name. There was also a handful of tax bills, all marked paid in full. Flemming’s was mine!

I shook my head. “No, I can’t do this. I can’t let you.”

“It’s not mine to give, Lillie. It was yours all along. If I hadn’t fucked up your life, you would already be well on your way to success. I believe in you. You have what it takes.”

I gave some thought to his words, and realized he was right. I was entitled to everything in that envelope. If the business hadn’t burned, I would have managed to save the money to pay off the taxes. I would have eventually made improvements to the building and brought in new products. I would’ve done all the things I went to college to learn how to do. Chris and his finagling had, indeed, stopped me from what was rightfully my future.

He was watching me. “Can you forgive me? I know you were prepared for this. I’m sorry you had to go through what you did, but I swear I will make it up to you.”

“Oh, really? Yes, I get that you can hand me the deed and pay off the taxes. I can even appreciate that you’re willing to finance the improvements I want to make. But Chris, how are you going to make it up to me for breaking my heart? Don’t you understand that I’m in love with you? Don’t you understand that you are a wonderful man, exactly the sort of man I want in my life? How would you make that up to me?”

“Like this,” he said, coming toward me and dropping to one knee as he pulled a box from his pocket. “Lily Flemming, I never thought in a million years I would hear myself ask someone this, but would you be my wife? Will you marry me and have children with me and be my business partner and my partner in all things in life?”

I was stunned. There’s no better word to describe it. In just ten minutes, he had managed to take me from the peak of anger to the valley of resignation. I hated him. I loved him. I wanted him. I wanted to be his wife. I wiped away the tears that had once again surfaced. Tears had become a nuisance as of late, but I had a feeling I was in for many more over the next eight months.

“Thank you. Thank you for being who you are and for loving me. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” I whispered.

“Then you’ll marry me?”

“Yes, Christopher Tolliver, I will marry you. No, let me rephrase that. We will marry you.”

“We?”

I looked downward at my tummy and then back at his face and nodded. “We.”

“Oh, my God, are you serious?” Joy washed over his face as he lifted me from the sofa and held me against his chest. “I don’t mean to sound corny, but you’ve just made me the happiest man in the world. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I hope I never get the bill,” he chuckled.