The Billionaire’s Pregnant Fling (Jameson Brothers Book 2) Page 3

  Jonathan was watching him process, before the buzzing of his cellphone drew his attention away. "I'll leave you to it," he said. "Just do my daughter a favor and don't think too long." Jonathan clapped him on the shoulder one last time in parting, and rose to go.

  "Mr. Daley...just a second…"

  Eddie moved to go after him, but a hand locked around his bicep and arrested him in place. He turned to find Sam staring at him with eyes as steely blue as his grip. There were two freshly-cracked beers already planted on the bar behind him.

  "Sam. Shit."

  "Sit down, Eddie," Sam advised.

  "I'm hungover, remember?" Eddie gestured to the beer, but sat down anyway. He knew there was no escaping the conversation he was about to have. Judging by the look on Sam's face, his brother had already overheard everything.

  "I don't care. Drink," Sam ordered.

  Eddie complied. His stomach turned in momentary revolt as he took his first sip, but a cold, foamy beer wasn't a bad replacement for the soda he had been nursing all evening. He propped his elbows up on the bar alongside his brother and took a deep, measured breath.

  Sam beat him to the punch. "Jonathan Daley is one tough bastard, huh?"

  Eddie expelled his long breath in a surprised laugh. Of all the things he had expected Sam to say to him, he had not expected him to present himself as an ally. The evening was still early, and there was still plenty of time for Sam to shred him, but he felt more grateful than he knew how to express for his brother's opening remark.

  "Yeah." Eddie raised his beer, and the two brothers clinked them together in solidarity. "I'm guessing you overheard everything," he added.

  Sam nodded. "What are you going to do?"

  "Isn't that the question?" Eddie laughed, but his mind was still spinning with everything that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours. He wished he had Sam's uncanny ability to mentally parse and pursue the best course of action, but maybe sitting across from him at the bar was the second best thing. "What do you think I should do?

  "You know I can't make that decision for you." Sam's piercing blue eyes studied him. "And I'm not going to bring company matters into this, either."

  Eddie snorted, even though he could tell his brother was in earnest. Sam had only just recently learned to separate his personal life from his professional one, so to hear him promise as much now was certainly a gesture of love...even if it sounded unrealistic to Eddie. Did Sam really expect him not to factor Jonathan Daley's threat into his ultimate decision? He could weigh all the consequences and arrive at the best course of action to do right by everyone. He could multitask.

  "Were you being truthful?" Sam prodded. "About caring for Margot all this time?"

  "All this time." The confirmation should have come more readily, but Eddie still wasn't used to the torch he had always carried for Margot being semi-public knowledge. God, if he could have done this--any of this--differently, he would have planned it out better. He would have put his all into wooing the woman of his dreams and proving he wasn't the untamable, irresponsible man she thought he was. He would have made it easy, effortless, right for her to decide if she wanted to reciprocate. There wouldn't be an unexpected pregnancy, and all the outside duress that came with trying to do right by the baby while making everyone else happy. To his mind, Margot probably thought she had as few options as he did at this point. How could he be sure she would agree to marry him for the right reasons? What if she had already gotten him out of her system, or worse—what if her feelings for him had soured the moment those two pink strips materialized and changed the course of her life forever?

  He would just have to cross that bridge when they came to it. He had already postponed meeting with her today, using the excuse of his hangover and the upcoming client mixer to hold off until next week. Maybe he was just a coward. Maybe he couldn't stand to know the truth of what Margot wanted.

  All he could focus on now was what Margot needed.

  "Do you want to marry her?" Sam's next question broke through his inner musings. Eddie blinked. He had almost forgotten where he was, and who he was with. That had been happening a lot since his passionate night with Margot two months ago. The woman his childhood friend had grown into was becoming all he could think about.

  "I want a relationship with her," Eddie confirmed. "Her and the baby. I'm twenty-eight, Sam. Maybe it's time for me to grow up. Maybe that time is long overdue."

  "Would you want all these same things even if there wasn't a baby in the equation?"

  "I'm in...I've always loved Margot." Somehow it didn't sound as damning to phrase the truth differently. He wasn't lying, but he also wasn't highlighting a vulnerability. Margot needed someone she could depend on; not someone who had pined for years and wrapped himself up in less-storied drama with other women.

  Sam nodded. He appeared satisfied with Eddie's responses so far, and Eddie couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a test. It would have been in line with the old Sam's character to conduct an interview on the subject and assess for himself if Eddie was qualified to take the next steps. "Can I offer you some advice?" Sam leaned back in his stool and crossed his arms, still holding his beer. Eddie took in the relaxed sight of his elder brother and felt his own posture loosen as a result. He couldn't believe he was sitting across from Sam receiving guidance rather than pissed-off directives.

  "Please do."

  "I haven't been in your situation," Sam said, "but that doesn't mean you can't learn from my mistakes. I nearly lost Trinity because I failed to listen to her...and I failed to follow her lead when it counted. We’ve been through a marriage, a divorce, and a reunion together, all because I didn't know when to let go. If you really have feelings for Margot, then you want a partnership with her."

  "That's what I'm driving at," Eddie interrupted. "What better way to propose that partnership than marriage?"

  Sam sighed. "But that's what I'm trying to tell you, Eddie. If you don't let her in on the conversation you just had with her father, you're already setting yourself up for failure. Margot needs to know what the stakes are, and she needs to know that it doesn't hold a candle to what the two of you share. You want to give her the choice to marry you, but is it a fully informed choice? You can't let your work obligations drive your relationship."

  "I can juggle my obligations," Eddie promised. "You'll see. I'm not going to let the agency fall by the wayside. And I'm sure as hell not going to let Margot go without a fight."

  Sam's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure you're hearing me, Eddie."

  "I'm hearing you, Sam," Eddie confirmed quickly. "Your work-life balance was out of whack. You forget that I had front row seats to all you and Trinity have gone through together. And you turned out all right in the end, didn't you?"

  "Eddie…" Sam began warily, but Eddie could see it clearly now. Sam was afraid of watching his younger brother repeat his own relationship mistakes. This might be his only chance to allay Sam's fears before things with Margot started moving forward.

  "Look, it's just like I told Jonathan. I've already started doing the research. I'm not going into this thing with Margot unprepared. Once she sees I'm in control of things, everything will fall into place exactly like we plan." Eddie took a long sip of his beer and expelled a heavy sigh. "The guy I used to be would have gone with the flow, but I promise you I intend to get out ahead of this situation. If there's one thing I've learned working on the fringes of the agency, it's that you can't forge forward and succeed without a plan. I'll arrange everything so it works out." He grinned. "I'm a Jameson, aren't I?"

  "Sometimes I wonder what that means," Sam remarked. Eddie clapped his brother on the shoulder, imitating Jonathan Daley's easy body language in the face of the difficult conversation they had just concluded. He was feeling good, better than he had before. His hangover had almost dissipated, and hearing himself talk had assured him that he was ready to take this thing on. The old Eddie would have flown by the seat of his pants—or worse, sailed fo
r Bali by now. He was a new man, a better man. He just had to stick to Jonathan's plan.

  "Hey, Sam, thanks again for coming tonight. I appreciate it. I'm glad I have you on my side. You see? You didn't even have to offer me advice. I've got it all figured out. I'll just take after you, minus all the parts where you fucked up. If I approach the situation prepared, and stick with that plan, there's no way I can go wrong. Margot will see that."

  Eddie took one last swig of his beer, sighed happily with his renewed conviction, and set it down on the bar.

  Sam just shook his head. "Oh, how the tables have turned," he muttered, but Eddie couldn't imagine what he was talking about.

  Chapter Five

  Margot

  Margot stared out at the heaving waves of the harbor. It was a crystal clear New York City day, and the water was bright and inviting with reflected sunlight. It wasn't nearly as dark and choppy as usual; in fact, by harbor standards it was borderline tranquil.

  Her stomach still revolted at the sight. Maybe agreeing to a tete-a-tete on Eddie's boat hadn't been such a hot idea after all.

  She hadn't been surprised when Eddie rescheduled their "meeting". There wasn't a doubt in her mind that he hadn't returned to the Thirty Under Thirty party after taking her home and drank himself well past the legal limit at the news of her pregnancy. At least she trusted him to be responsible enough to call for a cab in the post-chivalrous hours of his night. She had seen firsthand the drunken mischief an intoxicated Eddie could get up to...and what the earth-shattering consequences could be.

  Not that she was off the hook by any stretch. Hell, when you got right down to it she put the "hook" in "ill-advised hookup". Margot cradled her stomach thoughtfully. It was a habit she had already formed, even though she wasn't showing any physical signs of pregnancy yet. Nothing aside from the nausea, anyway.

  She keyed in the code Eddie had texted her earlier and let herself into the private dock. No one came to meet her as she walked down the ramp alone. Maybe Eddie was a no-show. A part of her hoped that he was. She was terrified of setting foot on his expensive ship and losing her lunch.

  She tried not to imagine she was walking the plank as she approached the boat on the end. Eddie's ship was small and sleek; it was named Annabella, after his long-deceased mother. Margot's own memories of Annabella were fuzzy, but she remembered that Eddie's mother had always been a warm and caring presence, one that slipped fresh cookies to a visiting Margot and still commanded the respect of her houseful of rambunctious boys.

  Just the sight of the boat rocking on the water now made Margot freeze mid-step. She hastily fished through her purse for the sleeve of saltines she had started to carry with her. Recently her bouts of morning sickness were hitting her during the day, and she was hoping to avoid causing a scene. She found that crackers always helped settle her stomach.

  "Unforgettable...that's what you are...unforgettable…"

  Nat King Cole's rich voice wafted to her. Margot glanced up, startled, and several crackers spilled from her hand. A seagull alighted on a nearby post and squawked eagerly, but came no closer as she strained her ears to listen.

  "Like a song of love that clings to me...how the thought of you does things to me…"

  She was five years old again. Annabella's radio was on in the kitchen, and Eddie was walking her down the "aisle"—the name that young Margot had given to the long hallway leading to the Jamesons' back porch. Eddie held her hand aloft in his, and gamely spun her around every time they reached the end of the hall to begin their wedding march anew. She had Annabella's apron tied around her head and flowing down her back like a bridal veil.

  When Nat King Cole's velvet crooning inevitably faded to commercial, they would pause and turn to one another, joining their hands with sober expressions. Sometimes Eddie would keep a stolen twist tie in his pocket to wrap around her ring finger. "Margie," he would ask her, "will you marry me?"

  "I do," she would confirm dutifully. It was just another game, a script memorized between them. Whenever they got to the only part of their wedding vows they knew well enough to recite—"you may now kiss the bride"—they would lean in with their lips puckered, then thrust one another away before they could actually kiss, laughing uproariously at the narrowly avoided gross-out.

  Margot blinked herself back to the present. She glanced up, and saw a broad-shouldered silhouette watching her from the prow of the ship. She shaded her eyes, and her thudding heart picked up the pace as every handsome detail of Eddie Jameson materialized. He looked older, and oddly regal, standing so high above her. Either he was absurdly overdressed, or her sweatshirt and jeans weren't the casual boating attire she had thought they were. Eddie was wearing a crisp black suit and long pants; no open shirt, no shorts. His auburn hair was slicked back, and even standing dockside, Margot could tell he was sporting the closest shave he had ever worn since picking up a razor in high school. It was the most she had ever seen him look to his older brother, Sam. The resemblance was almost jarring.

  Maybe he really did plan to treat this like a business meeting.

  "You're late!" he called out down to her. He leaned forward to brace himself on the bulwark.

  Margot checked her phone. She was exactly on time. She wondered if Eddie had been driving himself crazy below deck all morning stewing on the exact words he would say to her, and wasn't sure how to take the mental image. Eddie wasn't usually a planner. "You rescheduled on me first!" she called back. She tossed the rest of her crackers toward the waiting seagull and moved around the side of the boat.

  Eddie came to meet her. Margot mounted the stepstool, and he extended his hand down to her to help her up. She wished her heart didn't somersault at the gesture. She could still hear the radio playing in the galley, and it suddenly occurred to her that Eddie might have made his music selection on purpose.

  "You look well-rested," he mentioned as he hauled her up. Margot clutched her purse close to keep it from falling into the water below her. Don't look down, don't look down, she prayed. "Better than the last time I saw you."

  "And you look like your brother," she pointed out. She glanced around Annabella's deck in an effort to avoid noticing the rocking waves beneath them, and her mouth dropped open. "Eddie…? What is this?"

  The entire deck was carpeted with dark red rose petals, the exact color of Margot's favorite sultry lipstick. A bottle of sparkling cider perched sweating in a bucket of ice on the outdoor table; twin crystalline wine glasses flashed in the light of the sun.

  There was a teal blue Tiffany box sitting on the chair canted closest to her.

  "That's why, darling, it's incredible...that someone so unforgettable...thinks that I am unforgettable too."

  Margot's hand flew to her mouth. Eddie came up behind her, but she couldn't bring herself to tear her gaze away from the scene. Everything clicked into place suddenly. She was an idiot not to see it before.

  "Well?" His voice was a seductive purr right next to her ear. "What do you think? Or are you speechless? I can work with silence. I'll even take it as encouraging if you don't mind."

  Something was building inside of Margot...something not good. She felt faint, fluttery. Her lower back and armpits tingled; a buzzing sensation erupted between her eyes.

  "Why don't you go look at your gift?" Eddie encouraged. "Better yet, why don't I bring it to you?" He touched her shoulder affectionately as he moved past her to go retrieve the blue box. Another, much larger ship was pulling out of the harbor. It honked a low, mournful signal that drowned out the climax of Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable".

  The boat left a massive wake trailing behind it.

  The deck pitched beneath her, and Margot groped behind her for the hand railing. Eddie made it to the table without so much as a hitch in his confident stride. His sea legs really were out of this world. He moved so gracefully on the water, so naturally. He was the same way in social situations—nobody could breeze through a crowd like Eddie and come away with exactly what he wanted.
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  He pulled the lid off the box and set it aside. Margot watched, with eyes she was sure were as round as the dinner platters he had set out for them, as Eddie removed a velvet ring box. He returned and knelt before her. He took her hand in his. His palm was so tan and wide it practically dwarfed her own. She looked so pale by comparison. Had her skin always been this clammy? Eddie didn't appear to notice anything amiss. "Margot Daley, ever since we were kids, I've found you unforgettable," he began. "I spent so much of my childhood running around playing games with you. When you weren't there, all I could think about was the next time I would see you again. I was devoted to you. I still am."

  Stop. Stop it, Eddie. She was desperate to absorb everything he was saying to her, but she couldn't concentrate. This wasn't the old script, and Eddie…Eddie didn't sound like himself. What's more, his timing couldn't have been any worse. Her stomach rolled as if there were smaller waves pitching inside of it. Her hand stayed resolutely clamped over her mouth.

  It was like watching a slow motion train wreck.

  "Margot Daley, if it isn't obvious by now, I want to ask for your hand in marriage," Eddie was saying. If she had the courage to take her hand away in that moment, she would have knocked some sense into him. All of this over an unplanned pregnancy? Was Eddie out of his mind? He gazed up at her, his brown eyes serious and expectant.

  It was too much.

  "I'm sorry, Eddie." Margot only barely managed to get the apology out as she pulled her hand from his.

  She turned, and retched over the side of the boat.

  She continued to heave for several moments after she had finished. Tears stung the corners of her eyes. Rotten morning sickness. Eddie had gone through so much trouble to surprise her by setting up this "meeting", and she couldn't handle standing upright through one measly boat wake…