14. Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fourteen
Shira
Over the next three weeks, I only caught brief glimpses of Roman. As promised, he came every morning to clean Mary’s litter box, and I was often woken to my girl meowing her head off at him and Roman responding gruffly about picking up her shit. My cat giving him a hard time made me irrationally pleased since I didn’t have it in me to do so.
I’d sort of expected him to drop his promise as the days dragged on, but he showed up every morning. After that first day, he’d begun to leave me gifts and notes. Always juice or a smoothie, and often some kind of pastry too. Since I was no longer throwing up after every bite I took, I left him a note strongly encouraging him to keep the pastries coming.
The next day, he’d brought me two.
Shira,
I’ll feed you anything you want. Tell me your favorite food, and I’ll make sure you have it.
BTW - Mary still hates me.
Roman
I’d left a little letter on the counter for him to find when he returned in the morning.
Roman,
Everything is starting to taste really, really good. Especially that mango tart you brought me. And the blueberry Danish. I like the smoothies too. None of the food you’ve brought me has gone to waste.
Mary doesn’t hate you, but she is known to hold a grudge. Here’s a helpful hint: she loves to be praised, and she adores toys—especially stuffed mice.
Thank you for everything you’re doing for me and Beanie.
Yours,
Shira
And so began the daily ritual: Roman leaving food and short notes, me replying with my thanks and answering his questions.
Shira,
They were out of your favorite mango tarts this morning, but I spoke with the manager. You now have a daily standing order. Please let me know if you get tired of them.
Mary laid in wait for me today. As soon as I entered the utility room, she jumped off a stack of towels. My heart stopped. It’s by sheer luck you didn’t wake up to my corpse on your floor this morning. Your cat definitely hates me.
Roman
I scolded Mary for scaring Roman. Very lightly. First, I wasn’t much of a scolder. Second, my girl was only protecting me and herself. I really couldn’t blame her. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d hurt Roman. She was making him work for acceptance.
Roman,
I don’t think I’ll ever be tired of mango tarts. Please keep them coming!
I’m sure Mary just wanted to play with you. She’s a sweet angel kitty. She would never purposely scare anyone.
Yours,
Shira
Shira,
Did you like the lemon bar? I noticed it disappeared and no crumbs were left behind.
I’ve promoted Angelina Chin to head of marketing. What do you think about that decision? She seems solid, but I’ve misjudged character in the past.
This morning, I told Mary she’s a good girl—a drastic stretch of the truth, in my opinion—and she headbutted my shin. I don’t know if this is a good thing.
Roman
Mary purred in my lap as I read Roman’s note out loud. “Did you headbutt Roman?”
“Rrrreoowwww,” she replied.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
She gave me the side-eye then started to clean herself.
Roman,
Lemon bars are now a close second to mango tarts. I think Beanie likes citrus. The last week, I’ve been craving oranges every day.
Angelina is whip-smart and knows the marketing department like the back of her hand. I think offering her the position was a great decision.
Mary told me it was a friendly headbutt. Keep the “good girls” coming, and you’ll have her wrapped around your finger.
Yours,
Shira
That evening, I received a delivery of navel oranges and clementines. The note on the receipt said, “For Beanie, who’s already making a stand against scurvy.” I read that one to Bea and Clara, who were still pretty anti-Roman despite the efforts he’d been making. I couldn’t say I was comfortable with him or trusted him, but he was chipping away at me.
Shira,
The results are back, and as we both knew, the baby is mine. I passed that news to my brothers, and Ben’s reaction was nothing if not predictable. Can you guess what he said?
I noticed quite a few orange peels in the trash. Looks like Beanie is still going strong in their fight against scurvy. Do let me know if that changes. I’ll gladly load you up on cookies or movie theater popcorn if that’s what the bean demands.
Mary still hates me, and she’s becoming more wily. Today, she presented herself for pets. When I answered her demands, she turned around, swatted at me, and hissed. Did you know she hisses? For a small creature, she scares me.
Roman
He’d left the paternity test results for me, though I’d received a copy already. I smiled when I noticed he’d underlined the results three times.
Roman,
I’m happy you’re the father and it’s not the delivery driver. There was never a doubt in my mind Beanie is half yours.
As for Ben…I think I can guess he said something about your identical DNA and throwing his hat in the ring as a possible father. Unless it was really him behind that mask, he’s going to have to live with being Uncle Ben.
I’m still loving anything citrus, but I have to admit, Beanie perked up at the mention of popcorn. I haven’t been to a movie in a long time. Maybe I’ll have to go.
Mary has never hissed a day in her life. I’m sure she was simply trying to communicate.
Yours,
Shira
The following day, a massive bucket of popcorn was delivered to my door. The best part—aside from the intense thoughtfulness that made my nose sting? It was still warm.
The prospect of seeing Roman for the first time in weeks was on my mind when I walked up to the building that held Dr. Sharma’s practice, which was why I didn’t notice the couple approaching the doors until we were almost on top of each other. I stopped, backing up a step to let them through.
“Shira!”
My gaze jerked up to the very pregnant, auburn-haired woman in front of me, and a smile stretched across my face. “Kit! Oh my gosh, I wasn’t paying attention. How are you?”
She patted her round bump and grinned. “I’m good. Feeling large and in charge, but—”
“You aren’t large, sweetheart,” her husband, Elliot Levy, admonished as gently as he was capable. “You’re carrying and nourishing our daughter. You’re the exact right size you should be.”
She melted against his imposing form. “Thank you for the reminder.”
I had known Kit in passing for several years. First as Elliot Levy’s assistant, then as his wife. Elliot owned many of the high-rises in Denver, including the Levy building, which housed GoldMed’s headquarters as well as Levy Development.
When Kit and Elliot got married almost four years ago, she’d started a nonprofit that provided rehabbed homes to needy families, and I’d gotten to know her better through that since I shared the passion. Frank and I had donated heavily to Building Dignity, and I’d continued after he passed.
I didn’t know Elliot as well. For one, he was one of the most intimidating men I had ever met, but also, he seemed fairly closed off with everyone but Kit. With her, their daughter, Joey, and their son, Theo, he was openly adoring.
“You look beautiful,” I said.
Kit’s cheeks flushed a pretty rose. “Thank you, Shira. Are you going to see Dr. Sharma?”
Without thought, my hand went to my barely-there bump. It wasn’t visible in clothing yet, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I could see the soft curve in my lower abdomen—probably more so thanks to my steady diet of pastries and smoothies.
But maybe it was a little bit the baby too.
“I am,” I confirmed.
Kit gasped. “You’re expecting?”
“Yes. I’m fifteen and a half weeks along.”
“Wow. That’s amazing news. We can be pregnant together. Well…for the next ten weeks, but you know what I mean.”
I laughed. “I do know.”
Elliot reached out and pulled the door open. “Since we’re all going to the same place, let’s continue this conversation on the way there.”
Kit sniffed. “Bossy.”
“That’s right, Catherine. I am,” Elliot murmured as he guided her into the building. He held the door for me too, ushering me in after.
As we waited for the elevator, Kit turned to me. “How have you been feeling?”
“The first trimester was terrible. I had hyperemesis and had to be hospitalized for a night.” I shuddered at the memories of constant nausea. I still had bouts, but it was now once a day instead of once an hour. “Fortunately, since I left GoldMed and have had time to rest, I’m feeling much better.”
She winced. “I heard some of what happened. Roman Wells is a bastard. I told Elliot he should cancel his lease for what he did to you.”
“And I told you I would if you truly meant it,” he intoned, never taking his eyes off his wife.
She huffed. “I don’t know if I do. What do you think?”
I grinned. “I’m pleased you want to stick up for me, but Roman’s a small part of GoldMed. I’d rather not hurt the rest of the employees just to spite him.”
Her brow winged. “Fine, okay. What would you do to spite him?”
“Don’t they say living well is the best revenge?”
“Maybe.” She accepted my response but didn’t seem satisfied with it. Pregnancy had made her bloodthirsty.
The elevator arrived, and Kit and I stepped in. Once again, Elliot made sure we were both inside before he joined us. He pressed the button for the twelfth floor and moved to the back of the elevator, giving us room to continue our conversation.
Kit rested her hand on top of her bump and studied me thoughtfully. “I’ve been considering bringing on a partner at Building Dignity.”
“Not considering,” Elliot mumbled. “You will be doing it.”
She crinkled her nose at me. “With the imminent arrival of Baby Levy number three, my husband is insisting I take on less work, which is impossible since I’m essentially a one-woman show. I have an assistant and someone who runs the numbers, but everything else is on me. Now, my gears are turning, and I’m wondering if you would be interested in partnering with me. I know Building Dignity is just as important to you—”
“As a volunteer?” I asked, trying to keep myself from becoming too excited. But my toes were curling in my shoes, so it was too late.
“A partner, Shira. I think we’d work really well together. And look, I’m slowing things down in preparation for my maternity leave, so if you come on board now, it won’t be a heavy load like it has been for me.”
“Too heavy,” Elliot groused.
The elevator doors opened, and Elliot put his arm out to allow us through, then quietly followed.
“What do you think?” Kit pressed.
“I think I am really interested and would love to come into the office to talk to you about it.”
“Perfect.” Her smile lit up her pretty face. “I’m so glad we ran into each other. This was fate, don’t you think?”
I couldn’t help smiling back at her. “I guess it was.”
She continued chatting down the hallway to Dr. Sharma’s office then abruptly cut herself off.
“Holy hell, what is he doing here?” she hissed.
I glanced from her toward where she was glaring, knowing who I’d see. Roman was waiting for me by the office door, tapping on his phone and pacing, therefore not noticing our approach. He, however, was impossible to miss, taking up more than his fair share of space in all directions. I often forgot how large he was until I was in his presence again.
“He’s here for me,” I whispered.
“What?” She frowned. “For you…? Oh, Shira, is he—?”
I touched my stomach once more. “He is. But don’t worry about calling him a bastard. He deserved it. Since then, he’s been making it up to me in pastries and cleaning my cat’s litter every day.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped. “Okay, wow, I have to reframe everything.”
Elliot moved ahead of us, extending his hand. “Roman.”
They shook, and Roman greeted him, though his attention kept bouncing to me. It had been three weeks since we’d been face to face. During that time, we’d passed messages back and forth daily and texts on top of that, but seeing him in person after all the words we’d shared was somewhat disconcerting. He was suddenly more familiar yet still a stranger. I supposed that could have been said for the entirety of our relationship. This man had bent me over backward, and I was carrying his child, but I didn’t know his middle name or even where he lived.
“This is your doctor too?” Roman asked Elliot.
“Of course. She’s the best in Denver,” Elliot replied matter-of-factly. I guessed, to him, it was a fact that he’d only bring his wife to the best ob-gyn in town.
“Ah, that’s good to know,” Roman replied.
Kit hooked her arm with mine and jutted her chin. “Are you surprised Shira picked a good doctor all on her own?”
Roman’s eyes widened, somewhat panicked, his gaze bouncing between us. “No. Of course not. It’s nice to see you again, Kit.”
She chuffed. “Sure it is.” Then she turned to me and gave me a warm hug, promising to call me later. Since Roman and I were early, we lingered in the hall after Kit and Elliot went in for their appointment.
He lowered his chin, giving me a long once-over. “How are you?”
“Really good. I haven’t been nauseous today. I’m really hoping this means I’m turning a corner.”
He rapped his big fist against the trim of the door. “Knock on wood. Let’s not test our luck. I can’t have you getting as sick as you were a few weeks ago.”
Something soft and fuzzy coated my skin at his vehemence. “Unfortunately, I don’t think you have a say in that.”
“That is unfortunate. If I did, you wouldn’t have been sick for even an hour. It’s utter bullshit you had to go through that.”
“That’s a nice thought.”
I tried to temper my reaction, but it was difficult when he was constantly examining me and openly displaying how angry my being so sick made him. I reminded myself Roman would have never spoken to me again if I weren’t carrying his baby. Our last interaction would have been him ripping GoldMed away from me. With that cold reality, most of my fuzziness evaporated.
Roman was here for Beanie—not me.
“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you were friends with the Levys.”
“Elliot, not so much, but Kit, yes. We’re friendly.” I blinked up at him. “Why would you know that? You don’t know very much about me.”
His flinch was subtle but unmistakable. I hadn’t meant any harm, but it was true. We were diving into the deep end together and neither of us knew whether the other could swim.
“You’re right. I don’t.” He cupped his nape and shifted his feet. “We should probably remedy that, don’t you think?”
“Probably. We have time, though.”
“We’ll make it a priority, Shira,” he declared decisively, frowning at me. It wasn’t quite an angry expression, but he didn’t seem especially happy. Then again, as we’d just covered, I barely knew this man and couldn’t presume to read him.
So, I agreed, even though I didn’t quite understand what I was agreeing to.