“She’s at Northwest Memorial,” he said, staring down at his feet before meeting my eyes again with a pained expression. “Emmy . . .”

“Don’t speak,” I warned, pushing my palm between us.

He nodded. “One thing,” he whispered.

I expected an I love you. Perhaps a Be safe, or a Thank you for going.

“Will you call me with any updates?” he asked.

I nodded and left. With no kiss good-bye, and no loving words exchanged between us, I fled into the night.

* * *

When I arrived at the hospital and asked for Fiona Stone, I was directed to the maternity wing on the fifth floor. Walking by the babies in the nursery window made everything more real. The soft coos, the happy new parents, and sleep-weary nurses bustling past me were a wake-up call. This baby was coming. Whether Ben and I were ready or not, Fiona was going to be a mom.

I found her room, the door left partially opened, so I took a deep breath and entered. Fiona was sitting on the bed in a turquoise-and-cream silk robe, slipper-covered feet folded underneath her, sipping a Pellegrino and flipping through Vogue magazine.

What the hell?

She didn’t look ill. In fact she looked phenomenal. She had a healthy glow to her skin and red lacquered nails, and her hair and makeup were styled perfectly.

“Fiona?” My voice cracked.

Her eyes lifted to mine and her mouth puckered in a frown. “Where’s Ben?”

“He’s not coming.” I wanted to feel excited, proud of that fact, but watching her face fall, I only felt empty. This woman was in love with my boyfriend and there would be no happy ending.

“Why not?” her confident voice shook ever so slightly.

“I told him I’d check on you myself, and he stayed home.” I didn’t mention that he’d asked me to call him with news.

She swallowed, as if summoning her courage. “I get it. You’re threatened. You made him stay behind and came yourself so he wouldn’t have to.”

I peered down at the shiny tile floor. She wasn’t far off from the truth. I didn’t want to feel threatened by her, yet I did.

“He sent me, Fiona. He didn’t want to come.”

She took a fortifying breath and met my eyes. “You’re nothing like the girls he has dated in the past. You know that, yes? I never thought I’d measure up to the models he attracted. London Burke . . . and many others. They were younger, thinner, prettier.” She looked down, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on the blanket beside her. “But then you came along. I don’t usually hire female assistants but I knew you’d pose no threat. From your dirty tennis shoes”—her eyes dropped to my feet—“to your ratty ponytail . . .” She clucked her tongue, her eyes pinning me in place.

She was doing her best to cut me open, but my tough outer shell remained intact. There was one key thing she didn’t understand about Ben that I did. It wasn’t what was on the outside that attracted him to me rather than her. She was a vindictive, manipulative witch. I was wholesome and loved him just for him. He got that. She clearly didn’t. And I wouldn’t be explaining that to her; I just stood my ground, keeping my face even and composed, doing my best to look bored by this whole exchange. She wasn’t a threat. The baby might come between us eventually, but I was confident Fiona never would.

“Don’t you worry about what will happen when we learn this baby is his?” Her hand went to her swollen bump, stroking it lovingly.

I didn’t answer—couldn’t. All the air was sucked from my lungs. I worried about that every waking moment. I had dreams of beautiful little babies that were a perfect mix of Fiona’s dark, shiny hair and Ben’s brilliant hazel eyes.

“I could get him back, you know. He’s been with me for five years. He hardly dated. We traveled the world together. Dined at five-star restaurants, made love in the finest hotels; I built him up to where he is today. Ben isn’t the type to forget that. He’s extremely loyal.”

I forced air to return to my lungs and found my voice. “There’s a good chance this baby isn’t his. Do you really think he’ll still be at your beck and call then?”

“That’s what your poor, simple mind doesn’t understand. I’m friends with his mother. I’m practically part of the family. I’ll always be around.”

At the mention of his mother and their ongoing relationship, something in me snapped. I was done being nice. I’d claw her eyes out if necessary and not think twice. “And if I called his mother and told her you seduced her son, took his virginity, how do you think she’d react?”

Fiona laughed maniacally. “I seduced him? If that’s what he told you, he lied.” A smug smile blossomed on her mouth. “Far from it, sweetheart. He wanted me. And trust me, I was all too happy to oblige. You two have been together, what eight months, nine?”

I nodded. She was keeping track.

“He and I have a history that spans five years. When you’ve made it that long, then you can talk to me about how well you know Ben. In the meantime, buzz off.” She flicked her wrist in my direction.

“Why do you think I’m here tonight and he’s not? He’s not interested in you, Fiona,” I enunciated each word slowly, letting them sink in. “Your attempts at winning him back . . .” I shook my head. “It’s getting awkward. He’s never been interested in more with you. You were convenient. A warm body while he was on the road. I’m the person he wants to build a life with.”

Her smooth exterior began to crack ever so slightly. Her jaw twitched and tightened. “No. You think that, but I know him. He doesn’t want to be tied down. Not with some nobody.”

“Fiona, Ben’s asked me to move in with him.” My tone was direct, harsh, but it had to be to get through to her.

Her bottom lip trembled, the only indication that I’d finally succeeded.

“I’m not the enemy here,” I continued, my tone softer this time. “You need to let him go. Even if the baby is his . . . he’ll never be yours.”

Striding from the room on shaky legs, I rounded the corner and stabbed the button for the elevator.

16

Ben

* * *

Emmy’s brow was crinkled in deep concentration, her laptop balanced on her knees as she sat next to me on the sofa. I loved her work ethic and dedication to my career but I wouldn’t have minded her taking a break now and again, either.

We’d been discussing options for my charity and whether it made more sense to start something of my own or join up with an established organization. We’d considered building orphanages for AIDS victims in Africa, setting up freshwater wells in Central America, and sponsoring early childhood education programs here in the United States..

“Thank you for staying over,” I said, leaning down to breath in against her neck. Emmy had been staying over more and more, and though she hadn’t officially agreed to move in yet, she’d brought a duffle bag and left it in my closet. She knew I needed her here to sleep. Her toiletries and some spare clothes were inside, not yet unpacked, but I knew it was only a matter of time. A step this big should scare me, but instead it made me ridiculously fucking happy.

It was hard for me to admit it but I needed her. I’d never needed anyone, but this sweet southern girl was different. She had been from day one. Her refreshingly real attitude had knocked me on my ass—floored me right from the get-go.

I still remembered meeting her for the first time in Fiona’s office and chuckled out loud.

“What?” Emmy asked, her eyes lighting up with a smile.

I knew she loved seeing me lighthearted like this. And early memories of her did that to me. “I was just thinking about the first time we met at the Status headquarters.”

Her smile faded ever so slightly. “Oh, God.” She buried her face in her hands. “When I spilled that tea all over the floor? I was a nervous wreck around you.”

Interesting. At the time, I’d assumed it was just Fiona that made her so nervous and unsure.

“I can’t even imagine what you must have thought of me,” she continued.

“I thought you were stunning,” I said, brushing the back of my knuckles along her cheekbone. “You didn’t fit the mold of Fiona’s typical assistant and I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You looked so sweet and innocent. I wanted to corrupt you.”

“I thought you barely noticed me,” she said, glancing down.

“I noticed everything. How erratically your pulse fluttered in your neck when you looked directly at me.” I trailed a fingertip down the column of her throat. “How your eyes peered straight into mine. I knew you saw the real me, and I was intrigued. But I also knew I should leave you alone. I knew Fiona wouldn’t take the news well that I wanted to fuck her assistant.”

Her quick inhalation of breath told me I’d hidden that fact well. That, or my choice of language surprised her.

“I thought you were out of my league,” she admitted softly.

I laughed. “No. The other way around, sweetheart. You were real and genuine. I knew my mountains of baggage would likely scare you away. But everything in me wanted to devour you.”

“I picked up on that once you started texting me.” She smiled widely. “But I knew right from the beginning you’d be dangerous for me—that it wouldn’t be just about sex. I knew I could fall hard for you.”

“The feeling was mutual, trust me. Scared the shit out of me, too. I’d never needed anyone before. But after that first night we spent together you were a magic cure for my insomnia; I knew you were special. That you and I had something special.”

Her little hand found mine and squeezed.