Leo (Members From Money Season 2 #144)

Chapter 14

Dr. Sanju Chiara was an Indian doctor, a petite ball of energy who had been recommended by Michael.

“She is a friend of a friend and is very personable and easygoing. She is also one of the best OB in the state.” He had also offered to accompany her, and she had said yes.

Last night had not been a restful one for her. Not even after the hours of baking that had taken her into the early hours of the morning had done its trick. She had not heard from Leo and spent a restless night twisting and turning in the bed.

She could understand that he was angry and hurt, but to completely ignore her was something she could not understand and had said as much to Michael.

“Give him time to cool off.”

“Or find someone else. Be with someone else.” She muttered.

“Darling, you did drive him away.”

The truth hurt, but Michael was right. She could always call him but was afraid that he was going to tell her that it was over. She had seen the look of finality on his face, and it was haunting her.

She got dressed and met the doctor in her office. The medical complex was a couple of miles away from the pastry shop and could be accessed easily from the highway. It made it easy for her if she had any sort of emergency.

The doctor smiled and gestured for her to take a seat. “I know Michael is not the father.”

“No, he’s not.”

She nodded. “Anything you say to me will remain confidential.”

“I know. How is my health?”

“Perfect.” The doctor made some notations on her pad. “You’re a little underweight which is surprising since you own that perfectly fantastic pastry shop on Holland Street. I have had some spectacular pastries from there over the years, especially since you have taken over fully.”

“I should have thought of bringing you something. I spent most of last night baking.” She twisted the strap of her tote absently. “How is the fetus? That is what it’s referred to, isn’t it?”

The woman nodded. “You are approximately four and a half weeks pregnant and should be delivering your baby the first week of June.”

“My birthday’s in June. June eight.”

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if the baby arrives then?”

“No. I hate sharing my birthday with anyone.” She smiled slightly. “What now?”

“You said you have been having a difficult time with your stomach. I am prescribing some pills to try and combat the nausea and some iron tablets and folic acid. I am also making a list of things you should be eating. Not too many sweets.”

“I hardly eat what I bake and that is something I should not be telling a customer.”

“Probably not.” The doctor admitted with a laugh. “Your stress level is also high. I would recommend you stay away from anything that give you an inordinate amount of worries.”

“I am in a stressful business.” What she left unsaid was the fact that the man who had planted the seed inside her was on the verge of leaving and she had no idea what to do about it. “I have expansions going on and am introducing a lot of new recipes.”

“Try to stay as calm and as serene as possible. We do not want you ending up with high blood pressure.” She scribbled again. “I would like to see you back here by the ending of December. I know the Christmas season is your busiest but hire more people and try to stay off your feet as much as possible. Do your exercises, but do not overdo them.”

“Thanks.” Rising, she collected the prescription as well as the sheet of paper with the nutrition list and headed out to where Michael was waiting for her.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

He waited until they were out in the parking lot before he spoke.

“How did it go?”

“I am healthy and so is the fetus.” She got in and strapped in, stretching her legs out. She was tired and miserable, conditions not conducive to pregnancy. “I am four and a half weeks pregnant.” A smile touched her lips. “Which means it happened the first time we made love.” Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes.

“I am beginning to accept my condition.” She turned her head to look at him. “Somehow, since Leo left, I have this feeling of anticipation and wonder. I have a life growing inside me and that is a miracle. I bought several books online about pregnancy and what to expect.”

He navigated the noon traffic and stopped at the light. All around there was the excitement of the upcoming holiday season. Billboards touting Sale! Sale! Sale! And pretty lights in every store window.

“Are you going to call him?”

“No. I thought about it last night into this morning, but I do not know what to say to him, how to make it right. And I am afraid that he is going to tell me to leave.” She was fighting the tears. She was either crying or on the verge of sleeping and right now, she wanted to do both. She was so damned tired.

“You should go home and get some rest.”

She shook her head. “The place is too big and too lonely.”

He drove into the parking lot of her store and stopped. “Tell you what. Let’s get dressed up and go to a club tonight.”

“It’s the middle of the damn week and you know how I hate clubs.”

“Which makes me wonder about you. Come on darling, just for one night. Dress up in one of those fancy pieces that Leo bought you, slap some makeup on that lovely face of yours and then let’s go dancing. In a few months, you will be as big as a house and unattractive…,” he grinned at her dirty look.

“Perhaps not unattractive per se because you are a dream boat. But ungainly and heavy on your feet. Before that time comes, then let’s go crazy.”

“Okay, fine. If it will get you off my case.”

Leaning over, he kissed her on the cheek. “It will work out, I promise you.”

*****

Leo stayed longer and that was deliberate. His business in Paris was done within three days, but he lingered. And had dinner with Sophia.

She made him laugh and forget his troubles at home with her uncomplicated presence and flirtatious mannerisms. They had dinner at the hotel, and she tried to persuade him to invite her up to his suite. He declined gracefully of course and realized he was not even tempted.

Sophia Dubois was a classically beautiful French woman with thick waist length dark hair, almond eyes, and a rich caramel complexion. She was also passionate and easy to get along with. She had been an excellent lover, but like most Europeans, did not believe in monogamy.

He liked her but had never given a thought to anything permanent between them.

“She must be a looker, this woman who is standing between us.”

“She is.” He admitted, taking a sip of his wine.

“Then why is she not with you?”

“I am here on business, and she could not leave her store.”

“She is, how do you say?” She waved a delicate hand in the air as she tried to find the word. “A patissier.”

“She is, yes.”

She eyed him over her glass. “She makes magic in the kitchen and the bedroom.”

He laughed softly. “Something like that.”

“I cannot compete with that kind of magic.” Her lips formed a red moue of regret. “I have missed your expertise in the bedroom. And have to say that is an extremely fortunate woman.”

He felt the pain of that statement and had to tamp it down. He had not called. It probably was petty, and he really should be checking on her, but he was too vulnerable right now and the pain was too raw.

“I am in love with her. Completely.”

She gave him an intuitive look. “And if she has not returned that love, she is a complete fool.”

*****

“Leather pants, knee-high boots and a form fitting black cashmere sweater.” He stared at her in delight. “I am going to be the envy of every man in the club. We are going to Timmy’s by the way.”

“I hate that place.” She complained as she slid into the passenger seat of the vehicle. “It’s a social club instead of a real one and everyone there wants to be seen.”

“It is where the ‘wanna be’s’ go to get noticed.”

“I thought you wanted us to dance. No one dances at that place. All they do is sit around and watch each other.”

Michael laughed in delight. “That is exactly what they do. But we will sit, have some non-alcoholic wine, eat pate and dish on the minor celebrities there. I happen to know who is screwing who.”

“Something I am not interested in.” She reminded him dryly. She would have preferred to stay home and try and get some sleep, but that had not happened over the last few days, and she doubt that it would be different tonight.

“Chin up, darling, I guarantee we will have fun.”

And she did. It surprised her that as soon as she stepped into the lofty interior of what was known as ‘the celebrity’s club’, she started to have fun. They were ushered into a room spinning giddily with a kaleidoscope of colorful lights.

People mingled prettily and the conversations were muted. A live band was playing, with several couples dancing unenthusiastically on the blue-green dance floor.

The bar was an oblong structure with several barkeeps serving up stylish looking drinks. The women vied with the men, and it was a toss up to who was more elegantly dressed.

Jewelries sparkled in the muted lights.

They were served a pink frothy concoction that tasted amazingly of strawberries and watermelon and was soothing to her stomach. Nuts were arranged attractively on a wide plate and wafer-thin breads were immediately sent to their table.

Michael knew everyone there of course and dished about them in a lazy speculative voice that had her laughing uncontrollable.

“I don’t believe you,” she gasped.

“Would I lie to you?” He asked drolly.

“Oh yes you would.”

He grinned at her astute knowledge of him. “Of course I would. But I am telling you that Stanley there is a cross dresser. And also, a closet homophobe. He lives with his mother in a horrible ranch type home that needs a lot of repairs.

Mommy dearest holds the purse strings and even though he has a minor success as a producer for some B rated movies, he does not get to call the shots.

The pitiful thing tried to get out from under her thumb twice by getting married, but they both ended in divorce.” He sipped his drink, eyes twinkling as he warmed to the story. “I think they’re doing it.”

She stared at him in disgust. “That is sick. And now you are just making it up.”

“I got it from an unimpeachable source,” he told her loftily.

“Your gay community?” She arched a brow at him as she sipped the drink. He was right. She had needed to get out and away from her troubles.

“I would have you know that we always know what’s going on around us.” He nodded to an elegantly dressed blonde. “Laura Pettigrew, star of the not so popular sitcom. She is married to the producer and sleeping with her costar.”

“What else is new?” She snorted.

“She is going on sixty and the poor boy is only twenty-two.”

“Eew.”

“Precisely.’ He nodded. “Her husband is sleeping with her daughter.”

She frowned at him. “Incest?”

“No!” He laughed. “Laura’s daughter from her first marriage. She has been down the aisle five times already. Husband number five is in his forties. The daughter is in her twenties.”

“That is disgusting. How do you tolerate that revolving cesspool?”

“By having fun with it.” He grinned at her. “And staying pure.”

“Yeah right.”

She was asked to dance by a very attractive man with wavy dark hair and a thick mustache whom she recognized as an actor in a sitcom and was suitably flattered when he asked for her number.

“Sorry, married.”

She was on the dance floor three times with three different men. By the time she was back at the table, she was dizzy and out of breath.

“It seems like someone is having fun.”

“I am.’ She said glowingly. “Thanks for insisting that I come.”

“What are friends for?”

But the night and all of its magic ended when she received a terse text two nights later from Leo.

“I am staying the weekend at the club.”

That was it, nothing more. No …, ”how are you feeling? We need to talk,” nothing like that. She read the text three times and felt anger consuming her. Yes, dammit, she had hurt him, but she had a right to hear from him.

And she missed him so much, it was like an ache inside her. She had told Ingrid she was pregnant, and the woman had been so happy for her. She had not told her the part where it was likely she was going to be a single mom. That her ‘fake’ marriage was on the verge of imploding.

Deciding not to worry herself about something she had no control over, she put aside the anger and fear and asked Mrs. Elliot about Christmas decorations. If the woman thought it strange that she was by herself as a newlywed, she did not mention it and volunteered to help with the decorations.

Mr. Leo usually hires a company to get it done. He entertains here sometimes, you know.”

“I would like to do it myself,” Sherrian told her.

“He prefers real trees to the plastic ones.”

“So, we will get a real tree.” She called up the tree lot and had one delivered. The owner hemmed and hawed at first, but when she mentioned Leo’s name, his attitude changed.

Not only did he send over his best, but the men carted it upstairs and set it up where she wanted it – right near the recessed cabinet and away from the huge hearth.

She spent evenings when she was alone, decorating the tree. She had plans to cook Christmas dinner and invite Michael, Ingrid and Ben and of course her aunt. That is of course, if she was still living here.

She would continue as if everything was normal, until she had to face the music.

*****

“Mind if I join you?” The familiar sultry voice had him stiffening. He had stepped out onto the covered balcony to get away from the incessant chatter going on in the dining room.

“Maye, how are you?” He turned to face the woman draped from head to toes in rich mink. Diamonds studded her lobes and peeped from her throat and her fingers were adorned with the stones.

“Wonderful, darling.” She purred, gliding over to sit next to him. “I saw you stepped out and wanted to have a word.” She had brought her flute of champagne with her and eyed him over the rim, her catlike eyes like a shark. “Rumors are that you are married.”

“Not a rumor.” He resigned himself to enduring her company. Maye Davis was a legend in the theater and one who had been pursuing him relentlessly for the past year.

“She is not here with you?”

You know damn well, she isn’t. He thought sardonically. The woman would have done her research beforehand. “She had to work.”

Her light laughter drifted out. “Darling, but of course she does not. She is married to you, which means she can afford to sit at home and twiddle her thumbs.”

“She is not like that.”

“Next you’re going to tell me she does not care about the money.” Maye crossed long elegant legs that had her stockings whispering.

“She doesn’t.”

“How cute.” She took sip of champagne. “Rumor also has it that she is a baker…”

His mouth tightened marginally at the scathing tone.

“She is a magnificent pastry chef.”

“And you’re defending her.” Sharp eyes settled on his face. “Could it be that the oh so unattainable Leo Coleman has fallen in love?”

“It so happens that I am.”

“Oh dear. That means my plan of slipping into your room is all shot to pieces.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Perhaps we can comfort each other just for tonight. We are both here alone, so there is no harm in being together.” She allowed her mink to shift slightly, revealing her impressive cleavage. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

“I am flattered by the offer, but have to say no., finishing his drink, he rose and realized that he did not need to be here.

*****

The minute he let himself into the apartment, the scent of baking curled around him like a welcome home banner. The scent was unbelievable and staggering, so much so that it took a moment for him to be able to move.

Shrugging out of his jacket, he carefully hung it inside the closet, his movements careful and precise. He slipped out of his boots and put them away, trying to tell himself that he was not prevaricating.

Then taking a deep breath, he headed towards the kitchen and stood in the arched doorway. She was not there, but the counter was filled with the evidence of her work. Pies of all descriptions, tarts, cakes and assortments of sweets he could not identify on the wide counter.

Turning away from it all and ignoring the strange comfort he felt in the pit of his stomach; he started towards the stairs when something told him to try the living room.

His heart did a flip as he stepped inside the room. A fire was burning inside the huge hearth, the light from the flames, flickering over the woman huddled beneath a thick throw on the wide sofa.

A Christmas tree tower in one corner, the decorations haphazardly applied with an obviously heavy hand. In spite of himself, he could not help the smile tugging at his lips as he stared at it.

There were also gifts piled under the tree. He did not particularly pay much attention to the season, except when he had to entertain at home and this year, he had decided not to.

His plan had been to spend the holiday just here. He had the idea of jetting them off to some exotic island to get out of the icy cold and just spend a week basking in the sun and making love the entire time. But now that had changed.

His expression hardened as memories of their last time together came crashing back. He was about to turn and go upstairs when she opened her eyes as if sensing his presence.

“Leo?” The sleep husky voice awakened such a turmoil inside him that he could not respond for a second. “You’re back.”

“Yes. Go back to sleep. I did not mean to wake you,” he said curtly.

“I am fine. I was baking and decorating the tree. I started three days ago, with Elly – Mrs. Elliot assisting me and I finally got it finished. What do you think?”

Tearing his eyes away from the enticing and fetching picture she made, he glanced at the tree and pretended to be studying it. “You should not have gone to any trouble.”

Sherrian felt her heart taking a dive.

“It’s no trouble.” She cleared her throat and pushed off the covers. “Are you hungry? I made pies and…”

“I ate at the club.” He stiffened when she came towards him and refused to show any reaction.

“How about something to drink?”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He lashed out. He could smell her lingering perfume or body wash and the gnawing inside him was getting worse. “Is that what we are doing now? Pretending that the argument a week ago did not happen?

Well, it damn well did and you trying to force food down my throat and decorating a damn tree, which by the way looks like it is about to topple from all the decorations, does not change the fact that you do not want my baby.

I am tired and not in the mood to be humored, so whatever the hell game you are playing, I am not buying it.” He turned on his heels and strode from the room, leaving her standing there.

She had expected that. Or something like it but hearing the bitterness and anger in his deep voice had staggered her.

She had felt a shift, felt something that had her opening her eyes and when she saw him standing there, words could not express her joy. She was going to fix this. He was here now, and she was going to have to find a way to get through to him before it was too late.