Her Pregnant Agenda

A faint Spanish lilt crept into Ariana’s voice as she imitated her mother. Grant smiled, enjoying the sound.

“And even though she didn’t want me to move so far away, she was thrilled when I landed the job at Wintersoft. And she is absolutely certain that someday I will be the public relations consultant for some movie star or maybe even the president.”

“Is that what you want?”

Ariana’s slender shoulders rolled forward in a shrug. “I love my job, and I want Mama to be proud. That’s what really matters.”

“I don’t see how your pregnancy interferes with any of that. Women with children continue to succeed in today’s business world. Surely your mother understands that.”

“Ah, but there’s more. You see, Mama’s younger sister, Lily, had a stroke last year. Since most of Mama’s relatives are still in Cuba, she and Lily are very close. Doctors wanted to put her in a nursing home, but Mama wouldn’t hear of such a thing. So she and Daddy took Lily into their home, and Mama provides total care for her. The stress is enormous, but to Mama, caring for Lily is a labor of love. She has to do it.”

“And you don’t want to add to your mother’s worry?”

“Exactly. Mama would be torn between her need to be with Lily and her maternal desire to help her unwed, very pregnant and alone, daughter.” Ariana’s animated expression disappeared. She twisted a strand of linguini with her fork, stirring the food around the plate. “It’s bad enough that my children won’t have a father, but now I will be a single mother struggling to make ends meet, instead of working my way up the ladder. I can’t add that load of worry onto my already overburdened mother.”

Grant took a bite of his pasta and savored the spicy flavor as he mulled over Ariana Fitzpatrick’s dilemma. She not only had the total responsibility of two unborn children, but all the hopes and dreams and concerns of her family rested on her fragile shoulders. And she believed she’d failed them.

“Ariana,” he said gently. “Sooner or later, your family will have to be told. You can’t keep two babies a secret forever.”

“I know.” She pulled in a ragged sigh. “I know. In fact, I really meant to all along, but first I wanted to get married—Mama’s old-fashioned about that. I’d told the entire family about the engagement, but Benjy was always vague about the wedding date, not making a commitment until three days before the courthouse fiasco. I’d planned to let them know about the babies once we married. When that never happened and I had to tell them about the breakup, I couldn’t bring myself to reveal the pregnancy at the same time. One shock was enough. But the longer I put off telling them, the harder it became.”

“Procrastination’s hell.” He should know. Hadn’t he said he’d “think about” that high-profile position with his dad’s law firm instead of refusing straight off the way he’d wanted to?

“No kidding. But once the babies come and I have my life under control again, everything will be fine and I’ll announce them to the world. Oh, Grant, I love these babies so much. My soul sings every time I think of watching them grow from perfect babies into beautiful, unique individuals. I can’t wait to hold them and count their fingers and kiss their noses and—” One nail-chewed hand flew to her mouth. “I’m sorry. You didn’t ask for all that motherly gushing.”

Some odd emotion caught in his chest at Ariana’s passionate speech. He’d dreamed of seeing that expression on Tiffany’s face, of sharing the unbridled joy of pregnancy and childbirth with the woman he loved. But Tiffany had put an end to such foolish fantasies.

Carefully, deliberately, he shifted his attention back to a woman who did want children. As an attorney he empathized to a certain point with all his clients, but Ariana didn’t appear to want his sympathy. Though she’d made some mistakes, she didn’t wallow in self-pity, and, unlike her ex-fiancé, Ariana took full responsibility for her life, embracing the good parts of a difficult situation. He admired that. Yes, that was it. He admired her grit and determination. And he’d darn well find a way to see her through this difficult period.

He was still contemplating the particulars of such action, when the rotund waiter approached the table. “Sir, would you and the wife care for some dessert?”

Not wanting to embarrass the waiter, Grant ignored the mistake and shook his head. “None for me. Ariana?”

“No, thank you.” He could see that she was disconcerted by the waiter’s presumption that they were married. She dipped her head and fiddled with the remaining linguini, a pose he found both lovely and alluring. Long, dark eyelashes curved over the crests of her delicate, pink-tinged cheekbones.

For a moment he let his mind slide into the thought planted by the hapless waiter and the memories of Tiffany’s cruelty. What if Ariana were his wife? What if those were his babies she carried beneath her heart? Regardless of Tiffany’s taunts, he’d yearned to be a father, a good one. To take his children to the Cape and teach them to sail. Or to deep-sea fish and dig clams. Ariana would look beautiful walking barefoot along a sun-kissed beach with her rich, dark hair blowing in the breeze.

“Your check, sir.” The waiter’s voice pulled him out of his reverie. Swallowing thickly, he forced his gaze away from Ariana’s lovely profile and reached for his wallet.

Teeth clenched, he reminded himself that the case against marriage was settled long ago. As much as the truth pained him, there would be no children for Grant Lawson. And certainly no wife. Never, never, never a wife.

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