Babies For the Billionaire

©Birdy Stewart 2013

I nibbled on my bottom lip as I sat in the coffee house booth, the familiar leathery feel of the soft brown material only helping with the constant bounce of my knee. I let out a heavy breath as the memories of that beautifully horrible night continued to play with my sanity.

Valentine walked up to my booth by the door and set down two cups, before sitting across from me. "So," Val popped the tab on her white plastic cap, letting the steam roll out for a moment before bringing it to her lips, "What're you gonna do 'bout it, Ari?" She took a sip, letting her accent roll off her lips as easily as the steam from the cup.

I fidgited with my own frappé. "Well, it's not like I can go tell him---I don't even know where he lives, works, his phone number---nothing. I'll just...continue on like nothing really happened."

"But something did happen. Something big." Val gave me that look, her black hair swept up in its usual messy, chic bun accentuating her brown eyes that told me what words couldn't.

"I know," I groaned. "And now, I'll have to support two human beings, in crappy living conditions, and I'm already struggling as is, to say the least. Not to mention buying all those mushy foods and dealing with the hospital bills---I don't know if I can do this..."

"Well, my offer still stands, Ari. I could easily fit you in here---there are some perks of ownin' your own coffee shop." Val winked at me and I gave a half-hearted smile, letting my eyes drift. The little coffee house was done in warm shades of brown, tans and oranges. It was chic and comforting, fitting Valentine perfectly.

"I'd love to, Val, but you know that I need something a little more than a cashier spot...especially now..." Val's hand rested on top of mine and our eyes connected.

"I get it, girl. It was just an offer in case you can't find anything soon. I could always use your baking skills when I add sweets to the menu. Besides," she smiled brightly, pulling both of the corners of my lips up this time, "What are best friends for?"

"Thanks, Val." She stood and I followed suit, before giving her a big hug. When we pulled away, she rushed me out the door. "Don't be late for that interview!"

"I won't---I hope---thanks Val!"

I got into the early afternoon traffic before it all rushed over me again.

He'd been so perfect. Tall, over six feet, and toned---everything. He most likely had an Italian heritage, maybe Greek, with his black hair and brown eyes, similar to Val's, although her skin was darker. The night had been a mess of limbs and passion.

I remembered everything almost clearly. The week I'd seen him watching me like a panther ready to strike as I'd taken up a temp-job at a club for a friend. That one night when I got off work early and he was waiting for me in the shadows of all the partying people. He'd chatted me up, bought me a drink, charmed his way into my panties. Sad, but true.

At some point, he'd gotten me to leave with him, and I even remember his sleek black sports car. He took me to an upper class hotel---and when I say upper class, I mean, probably the highest class without going Paris, France overboard---and we'd screwed each other senseless, from early morning to late afternoon, before he took me home and left. This was hardly like me at all, hooking up with strangers from a club, but it was pretty hard to regret in the morning. It'd been the best sex of my life.

But now? Yeah. Sort of regret it now.

A small shiver ran up my spine as I recalled that stupid pink plus sign I saw on that damned stick two weeks ago. I'd been on total edge as I sat on the toilet seat before getting up and pacing. When the small timer went off, I'd grabbed the white pregnancy stick and held in front of me, my hand covering my eyes. I'd let out a steadying breath before parting my fingers slightly.