Little Secrets: Secretly Pregnant

He wouldn’t have to lay a hand on her. The last thing he needed was the woman running back to Game Town with that tale. No, Jonah wouldn’t go there. The right smile, some intense eye contact and a few compliments would go far, especially with a mousy accountant who wasn’t used to the attention. If he planned this right, he’d have her so hot and bothered she wouldn’t be able to remember her own name, much less see the problems with the financial reports.

No matter what, Jonah would come out on top. If he had to sit down with Carl Bailey, the CEO of Game Town, and explain what was going on, he would, but if it could be avoided, he’d gladly play eighteen holes or take a lonely accountant to the theater.

He made a note to ask his assistant, Pam, what shows were playing on Broadway at the moment. He wasn’t a big fan of musicals, but he found most to be tolerable enough. Except Cats. He wasn’t making that mistake a second time. That was a phenomenal waste of four hundred dollars, which was saying a lot, given he’d easily spend that much in a week on supplies for the gourmet coffee bar they added on the twenty-third floor.

Speaking of which, he eyed his now-cold coffee with dismay. He’d get a refill and a bagel after he talked to Paul. Picking up the phone, he dialed his accountant and mentally cleared his calendar for the next week. He’d be busy courting the Game Town auditor.

Jonah just prayed it was a woman. He really hated golf.

* * *

Surely her boss was a closet sadist. There was no other explanation for why he’d send her to FlynnSoft for two to three weeks. Tim could’ve sent anyone. Mark. Dee. But no, he had to send Emma. She was the only one who could handle herself in that environment, he said.

Slipping her hand inside the doorway to her closet, she flipped on the light switch and stepped inside. Tim was full of it. He just wanted to see her squirm. She liked to think that she’d been hired for her top grades at Yale and her recommendations from professors, but she had a sneaking suspicion her father had gotten involved and made it happen.

Tim likely resented some rich kid getting dropped into his department against his will and enjoyed making her miserable as a result. It made her more determined than ever not to give him that satisfaction. She was going to do a good job. No—a great job. She would not get sucked into FlynnSoft’s corporate hippie attitude. She would not fall prey to Jonah Flynn, Golden God and his seductive smile.

Not that the notorious CEO would waste any of his smoldering looks on Emma. She wasn’t bad to look at, but the last gossip blog she’d seen had him coming out of a restaurant with a model she’d recognized from her lingerie catalog. She simply couldn’t compete with abs of steel and breasts of silicone. And she wouldn’t even try.

A man like Jonah Flynn was of no interest to her, anyway. He embodied everything her mother, Pauline, had warned her about. Don’t make the same mistakes as Cynthia did, she’d say. Her older sister hadn’t died because of poor choices—a plane crash had done that—but when those choices came to light after her death, the family had been scandalized. Emma had grown up as her sister’s polar opposite as a result.

If Tim was being absolutely honest with her, she’d bet that’s why she got the job. Dee, although competent, was a tall, thin and attractive woman easily distracted by men. If Flynn even looked at her sideways, she’d be a puddle at his feet. Forensic auditors could not puddle. Emma probably wouldn’t earn a second glance.

She eyed the neatly hung rows of clothing in her closet. Although FlynnSoft was a pioneer of the übercasual work environment, there was no way she was walking into that building while wearing jeans and flip-flops. Even if she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the laid-back software designers, she was wearing one of her suits with high heels. Her sole concession to the casual environment would be leaving off the hosiery. Summer was just around the corner in New York and she preferred staying cooler in the heat.

She pulled a charcoal-gray suit and a light blue top from the rack and smiled in approval. There was just something about the crispness of a freshly starched blouse and a smartly tailored blazer that gave her a much-needed boost of confidence.

It was just the armor she needed to go into battle against Jonah Flynn.

Battle was the wrong word, really. He wasn’t the enemy. He was a potential contractor for Game Town. FlynnSoft had managed to build an extremely robust and efficient system for handling subscriptions and other in-game purchases for their addictive online game Infinity Warriors. Recently, they’d branched out offering the management of other online game system subscriptions to companies that needed help handling a high number of users or providing additional monetizing options. It allowed small software start-ups to focus on designing the game and let FlynnSoft manage the back end.

Before they went to contract, it was customary for the companies to have a forensic accountant review the vendor’s records to ensure everything was shipshape. Carl Bailey, the man who started Game Town twenty years earlier and now headed up the board of directors, hated surprises.

Although FlynnSoft had a sterling reputation, the old man had a general distrust of a company where a suit and tie were not standard issue. Bailey wasn’t getting into bed with any company he didn’t think was up to snuff, even if paying Flynn was cheaper than developing the capability in-house. She was to go over everything with a fine-tooth comb.

Emma would be welcomed and provided everything she needed to do the job, but at the same time, no one liked an auditor nosing around. She might as well wear a big red button that read I Can Ruin Your Life.

That was a pretty unfair generalization. She could only ruin their lives by calling to light their own misdeeds. If they were good boys and girls, she couldn’t get them into trouble.

Her mother had pounded that much into her head as a teenager. Never say or do anything you wouldn’t want printed on the front page of the newspaper, she was always saying.

Before her sister, Cynthia, died in a plane crash, she’d been engaged to the owner of the New York Observer, Will Taylor. He was also the business partner of their father, George. That newspaper was delivered to her childhood home every morning, and to this day, Emma lived in fear that something she did might actually turn up there. The scandals of the remaining socialite daughter of the Dempsey family were news worth printing.

So far, so good.

With a quick glance at the clock, Emma left her closet and started getting ready. She had to be at FlynnSoft at two to meet with Mr. Flynn at his insistence.

Normally, she would’ve simply worn what she’d put on to go to work that morning, but she came home at lunch to change. It was nerves. Her outfit that morning was more than suitable, but she felt this need to put on something else before she went over there. To get every hair in place.

After thirty minutes of primping, Emma gave herself one last inspection. Her brown hair was twisted into a tight bun. After David moved out, she chopped it off at her shoulders in typical female defiance, but it was still long enough to pull up. Her makeup was flawless—fresh looking, not too heavy. She could still see the faint specks of freckles across her nose, which she hated, but could do nothing about.

The suit was loose because of her recent stress-induced weight loss, allowing it to hide any unfortunate bumps she didn’t want to share. The blouse she wore under the coat was a flattering shade of blue and more importantly, the neckline was high enough to hide her tattoo.

The half of a heart that was inked into her chest above the swell of her left breast wasn’t the only evidence of the night she’d made the mistake of letting herself go, but at the moment, it was the hardest to hide. That wouldn’t be the case much longer.

Like a little devil sitting on her shoulder, Harper told her to have fun that night. And she certainly did. She hadn’t intended to take it that far, but there was something about her masked hero that she couldn’t resist. Before she knew it, they were having fantastic sex in the laundry room and walking down the streets of New York in the middle of the night in search of adventure.

Every time Emma washed her clothes and felt the cold metal of the washing machine against her skin, a flush of embarrassment would light her cheeks on fire. She had done her best to forget about it and the tequila had done a good job turning the experience into a fuzzy, dreamlike memory, but still, it crept into her mind from time to time. If it hadn’t been for the bandage on her chest when she awoke the next morning, she might’ve convinced herself it had never happened.

But it had. She’d allowed herself to do anything and everything she wanted to do. She’d let David’s words strike too deeply and questioned everything about her life, when in truth there was nothing wrong with the way she lived. She did everything a proper Upper East Side woman was supposed to do. She was educated, well-spoken, polished and elegant. She took pride in her work as a CPA. It was true that no one would ever describe her as the life of the party, but her escapades would never show up on the front page of the local paper, either.

In retrospect, it took one uninhibited night to prove that she was okay with being that kind of woman. There was no glory in being like her older sister, who followed each pleasurable impulse and left her family mired in scandal after her death. Then again, that one night was enough for the repercussions to echo through her entire life. She could keep it under wraps for now, but eventually everyone would find out.

And of course, the tattoo remained. Emma had considered getting it removed, but it had become her personal reminder of how dangerous the wrong choices could be. Every time she even thought about breaking out of her shell, she could look at her tattoo and remember what a bad idea it was. It was a slippery slope she was determined not to go down again. She would not become her sister and shame her family. It didn’t matter how good or right it might feel in the moment.

But in keeping it, she had to work hard to ensure it stayed covered, especially in a professional setting. Or near her mother, who felt tattoos were only for bikers and inmates. Emma had tripled her ownership of high-collared tops the last few weeks. She worried about the challenge of her summer wardrobe as the temperature climbed, but she had to deal with the FlynnSoft job first.

Emma was just thankful she’d gotten hers in a place she could hide easily, unlike her hero with his tattooed hand. There was no way he could disguise his half of the heart, although she wondered how he would explain it. He was at a FlynnSoft party, so he was potentially an employee, like Harper was. She supposed that in the laid-back corporate environment, a tattoo was no big deal. Might even be a requirement.

It was just another reason to be nervous about her assignment.

At any moment, he could appear. An engineer, a programmer, hell, even the janitor. She didn’t know a thing about him and had no real way to find him other than the tattoo. She’d shared a few choice details of the night with Harper, and her friend had been on high alert to discover the man’s identity since then. She hadn’t been as willing to let the romantic fantasy go, especially when Emma confided in her about her predicament.

A few weeks after the party, at the family Easter dinner, Emma took one look at the spiral ham and went running down the hallway to the powder room. After two more weeks of denial and antacids, she realized she had more than a tattoo to show for her wild night—she was having her anonymous hero’s baby! And had no way to contact the father and tell him.

In the last three months, there were no tattooed hands to report at FlynnSoft, at least in the marketing or accounting departments, where Harper spent most her time. The odds were that even if the man worked at FlynnSoft last February, he was gone now if Harper hadn’t found him. That meant Emma was on her own with this baby, whether she liked it or not. She would tell her family soon. Eventually. When she couldn’t hide her belly any longer.

Another glance at the clock proved that she couldn’t delay any longer, as much as she might want to. She brushed her fingers over her hair and grabbed her purse from the table by the front door. With a fleeting look down her blouse, she opted to button her shirt one notch higher.

Just in case.

Two

It was an easy trip down to the FlynnSoft building, as she’d been there several times meeting Harper for a lunch date. They occupied the top five floors of one of the high-rises a few blocks from her apartment. The lobby was like many others with sleek, modern furniture and large LCD screens playing video clips about the company and scenes from the various video games they produced. The only difference, really, was the receptionist, who was wearing khaki shorts and a tank top. Her brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail that highlighted the multiple piercings in her ears.

If this was the first face of the company, she had no doubt things would go downhill from here. After checking her in, the woman gave her a temporary access badge and walked her back to the elevators. She showed her how to wave her badge over the sensor, allowing her to select the twenty-fifth floor, where the executive offices were located.

Emma considered stopping on the twenty-fourth-floor business wing to see Harper, but she didn’t have time. They’d see each other plenty over the next few weeks, she was certain. Instead, she pushed the button that read 25 and closed her eyes. As the elevator rose, Emma could feel her anxiety rising, as well. She wished she knew why. She was more than capable of doing this job and being successful. She was an excellent auditor and accountant. Harper had done nothing but praise the company and everyone she worked with. Everything would be fine.

Exiting onto the twenty-fifth and top floor of the building, Emma headed down the hallway to the right as she’d been directed. Pausing in one of the doorways with a placard that read Gaming Lounge, she watched a couple of employees playing foosball. In any other company, the large space would be a conference room, but here, there was a pool table, a Ms. Pac-Man machine and some beanbag chairs arranged around a big-screen television.

The players stopped their game to look over at her, staring as though she were wearing a clown suit instead of well-tailored gray separates. Emma quickly started back down the hallway to avoid their gazes. As though they had room to judge with their Converse and baseball caps.

She finally came to a large desk at the end of the hallway. A woman in a spring sundress with reddish-blond hair sat at it, talking into a headset and typing at her computer. She gave a quick glance to Emma and ended her call.

“You must be the auditor sent by Game Town.” She stood and grinned, offering her hand over the desk.

Emma accepted it with a self-conscious smile. “Yes, I’m Emma Dempsey. How did you guess?”

The woman laughed, her eyes running over Emma’s professional outfit a second time. “I’m Pam, Jonah’s assistant. He stepped down the hall, but he should be back any second. Can I get you a drink while you wait? A latte or a soda or something?”

Emma arched a confused eyebrow and shook her head. She didn’t want any of the staff going to any trouble on her behalf. Some companies went to great lengths to kiss up to auditors and she didn’t want to start out setting that kind of precedent. “No, thank you.”

“Okay, but if you change your mind just let me know. We have a coffee bar on the twenty-third floor in addition to a Starbucks on the ground level. I’m sure you’ll get the full tour, but while you’re here, we hope you’ll make use of all our employee amenities. We also have a gym, several game rooms and a pretty decent cafeteria with a salad bar where employees can eat at no charge. All the vending machines are also free to keep our programmers awake and productive.”

“Wow.” There wasn’t really a better word for it. Emma had read in magazines about how Jonah Flynn was some sort of modern business pioneer who was changing everything. That he strived to create a workplace where people wanted to go so that staff would be happier and more productive. A casual work environment was only one piece. Apparently, a foosball table and free caffeinated beverages were another.

“This is a great place to work. Hopefully you’ll enjoy your time with us.” Pam walked out from behind her station and Emma noticed she was barefoot with sparkly, hot pink nail polish. At this point, that detail was no longer a surprise. Padding softly across the plush carpet, she escorted Emma to a set of double doors a few feet away. She pushed one of the heavy oak panels open, and then stepped back and gestured for her to go inside. “Have a seat and Jonah will be with you shortly.”

The door closed silently behind her, and Pam and her toes disappeared, leaving Emma alone in Jonah Flynn’s office.

As instructed, she quickly settled into one of the black leather guest chairs, crossing her ankles and holding her portfolio across her lap. She couldn’t help but look around as her fingers nervously drummed against the notebook.

The office was massive with impersonal executive-type furniture that was very similar to the decor of the lobby. Glass and chrome, black leather, bookshelves with awards and books he’d probably never read. There was a large conference table that ran along the length of the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking an amazing view of Manhattan.

She wasn’t quite sure what she was expecting to find in the notorious CEO’s office—perhaps a stripper pole and a Donkey Kong machine—but it all seemed to fit the space in a generic way aside from the giant cardboard cutout of what must be one of his video game characters. Emma was unfamiliar with it, but it looked like some kind of blue troll in battle armor.

There were only a few unexpected details. A photograph of a butterfly on his desk. A world’s greatest boss trophy on the shelf behind his chair. A child’s crayon drawing addressed to “Mr. Jonah” pinned to his corkboard. She was pretty certain he didn’t have children, but she only knew what the gossip bloggers reported, which could be far from the truth.

“Miss Dempsey. Sorry to keep you waiting,” a man’s voice called out to her from over her shoulder.

With a nervous smile, Emma got up from her chair and turned to face him. He was standing in the doorway, taking up most of the space with his broad shoulders. Shoulders that were covered in a clingy brown T-shirt with what looked like some cartoon knights on the front. He was wearing loose-fitted jeans with a torn-up knee and well-broken-in high-top Converse sneakers. And a Rolex. She could see the large diamonds on the face from across the room as he held his drink.

What a contradiction. Software. Foosball. Jeans. Diamonds. You didn’t run into this kind of CEO every day.

As he came closer, she only had a moment to register the face she’d seen in so many magazines: the distinctive dark brown hair with the undercut shaved on the sides, the deep blue eyes that seemed to leap from the glossy pages, the crooked smile that was endearing and arousing all at once. All of it was coming at her, full speed ahead.

Letting her business training kick into gear, she held out her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Flynn,” she said.

Jonah reached out to her, gripping her with a warm, firm shake. His dark eyes seemed to be appraising her somehow, a faint smile curling the corners of his mouth. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he looked pleased about something.

“Call me Jonah. And the pleasure is all mine,” he said, his voice as deep and smooth as melted dark chocolate with the hint of a British accent curling his words.

“Emma,” she reciprocated, although the word barely made it across her tongue. Emma suddenly felt very aware of herself. Of him. Of the newly uncomfortable temperature of the room that made tiny beads of perspiration gather at the nape of her neck. His cologne tickled her nose, a spicy male scent that was infinitely appealing and somewhat familiar.

She tried to swallow, but a thick lump had formed in her throat. She couldn’t even speak while he continued to touch her. Did he have this effect on every woman or was she just that desperate after three months of celibacy and her pregnancy hormones conspiring against her?

Jonah Flynn was everything she expected him to be and then some. The magazines truly hadn’t done the man justice. He was handsome without being too pretty, with hard angles and powerful, lean muscles flexing beneath the cotton of his shirt as he reached out to her. His every move was smooth and deliberate, exuding power and confidence even in a T-shirt and jeans. You just couldn’t capture that in a picture.

She was blushing; she knew she had to be. How embarrassing. This was not going well at all. She had set out to prove to Tim that she could handle this assignment and here she was, practically mute and drooling after only a few seconds in the CEO’s presence. Her clothes should be too big, since she had instantly transformed back into an infatuated twelve-year-old girl.

She needed to pull it together—and now. Emma broke eye contact to collect herself. Casually gazing down, she caught a glimpse of red, then recognized the other half of her tattoo etched into Jonah Flynn’s hand.

Emma immediately began to choke.

* * *

Perfect. He’d never get the contract with Game Town if he killed the auditor on the first day.

Jonah quickly escorted the woman to a chair and buzzed Pam to bring her a bottle of water. He wasn’t quite sure what just happened. One minute, she was smiling and shaking his hand, the next she was hyperventilating and turning bright red. Maybe it was an allergic reaction. He’d have Pam take the flower arrangement on his conference table to her area just in case. Wasn’t there an EpiPen in the kitchen first aid kit? That would be his next move.

She’d calmed down a bit once she sat. Maybe she’d just swallowed her gum. No. She had pearl earrings and crossed ankles despite her inability to breathe. She definitely wasn’t the kind of woman who chewed bubble gum at work. If at all.

Pam breezed through the door with the water, which Emma gratefully accepted. Jonah held out his hand for Pam to stand by until he was certain the woman would recover.

Emma took a few breaths, a few sips and closed her eyes. Things were improving. He waved Pam off, but knew she’d be poised and ready if she were needed.

He knelt down in front of Emma, watching with concern as her breathing stabilized and her color began returning to normal. At least, he supposed it was normal. The woman was awfully pale, but his expectations were skewed by spray-tanned celebutantes who usually sported an orange undertone to their skin. No, he decided. Pale was normal.

Once she was no longer deprived of oxygen, he had to admit she was quite pretty. She had silky brown hair that begged to be hanging loose around her shoulders, but she’d forced it into submission in a knot-like bun. She had an interesting face, almost heart shaped, with full lips and creamy skin she didn’t hide under a ton of makeup.

From what he could see of her figure beneath that dowdy suit, she had ample curves in all the right places. Although he’d been photographed with the occasional model type, he gravitated toward the lingerie and swimsuit girls because they were equipped with the assets he was looking for.

Completing his inventory, he noticed her nicely manicured nails and naked ring finger. A single woman would be much easier to work his charms on.

This might not be the worst couple of weeks after all. Keeping Emma’s mind off the books could turn out to be a pleasurable experience for them both.

“Are you okay?” he asked once she’d drained half the water bottle and he was certain she could speak again.