24. Dont Ask Me To
Chapter twenty-four
Don't Ask Me To
" W hat did you find? Is she okay?" I walk purposefully out the building, headed to my car. I had Gustavo bring it to me as Isobel has taken forever at the doctor. I hate that she was so insistent I can't go, but even Carlotta has assured me that it's frowned upon for a man to be there during a pap smear.
But I could have at least sat in the waiting room, or in the parking lot. So, needless to say, I'm irritable.
"Well I couldn't bribe the nurse," Xavier explains to me quietly on the phone. "But sir, I did manage to remote into her phone and hack into her online chart."
I smile as I get into the driver's seat of my Mercedes. "Good man, and?"
Silence.
My eyebrows go up, as does my voice. " And?"
"Uh…."
I feel my nose twitch with irritation as I start the vehicle, waiting for Gustavo to get in the passenger seat next to me. "Spit it out man!" I grit, revving the engine a bit too hard.
Apparently, she's not fine, as Dennis told me she's instructed him to idle outside her doctor's office, and apparently he's indulging her. Which is why I'm in my car, about to go get her myself. But Xavier cuts me off quickly.
"She's moving, sir. Dennis is pulling on the main street and I'm following them en-route to the house."
"Jesus fucking Christ," I grit out. Clenching my jaw, I pull down another street as trying to bust a u-turn in New York traffic is akin to a suicide mission. "What the fuck was in her chart?"
"She's pregnant, sir."
The words seep in nice and deep as my chest begins to beat out of control. "She's what?" I don't think I heard him right.
"Pregnant, Mr. King."
There's utter silence through the phone and in the car as Gustavo turns his face to look at me. I don't turn to acknowledge that he's being overtly obvious, but damn, I need a minute to let the information sink in.
The minute ends up being more like three. Three solid minutes I will my heart to not explode.
"Was she crying?" I say hoarsely, tapping out a new destination in my GPS.
"Well sir, a tear or two . She did look very shell-shocked. Dennis said she just sat there and stared out the window for quite a while."
"Call Dennis, Xavier, and have him take his time going the long, scenic route home. Then call Carlotta, and tell her to have the chef make Isobel's favorite Steak Diane entree. And to put more candles out on the table tonight, make it romantic." I pull into the famous flower shop on 5th and park illegally, hanging up with Xavier. "Let's go, Gustavo."
I spend so much money at the shop that I'm sure the owner is going to be able to keep afloat for at least a month just based on my purchase alone. But with Gustavo's help, we load both the trunk and the backseat, and in no time at all I'm taking the highway at a near breakneck speed to make it home first.
I call Donna next, intent on making things right between us. She answers quickly, making me happy.
"Hendrix, it's so good to hear from you." Her voice is stern, no-nonsense.
It's been a bit tense between the two of us after she learned how I took over her daughter's life. And when I told her about our marriage, well, it was touch and go for a while. I was afraid I'd made an enemy out of the woman. Her stare is worse than Isobel's somehow.
"Ms. Brookes, it's so nice to hear your beautiful voice," I say, injecting as much elegance as I can into the simple compliment.
"Cut the bullshit, Hendrix. I'm only being nice to you right now because you're keeping my daughter safe, but I don't like how you went about it and I'm still upset. So, what do you want? I've got places to be."
"I'm really sorry that I hurt our relationship, Donna, I am," I say. "But, hopefully time will cause your heart to soften towards me." My apology is unexpected, as she goes quiet over the phone. I wet my lips, taking a deep breath. "I've called because I wanted to invite you and Melody to my parents' home tomorrow. We're having a little get together, welcoming my sister's baby into the family, and I'd like for you two to meet everyone."
Donna's still silent. And it seems, whereas her daughter can't shut up, she won't speak .
"Oh come onnnn, Donna." I smile though she can't see it. "You can't hate me forever! Don't you want to love your son-in-law at some point? Don't I take such good care of my girls? All three of you?" I ignore at Gustavo side-eyeing me.
"Yeah well," she scoffs. "I've never heard of a man doing what you've done. I suppose you're a good person… but the jury is out on whether or not I'm going to love you, so don't hold your breath on my account."
"Fair, mom. Fair." She loves me, I can tell.
"Hmmph. So, where's your parents' place?"
I chuckle, seeing the gate to my property pull up. It opens with ease and I barrel on through trying to get there with enough time to set up before Isobel gets home. "Oh Donna, you know you don't have to drive yourself anymore. Pablo will bring you."
Donna sniffs rather indignantly. "I want to thank you, Hendrix, for making sure me and my girls are protected."
"You're welcome, Donna, I gotta go now. I have twelve dozen red-stemmed roses to set up before your daughter gets home. And our chef is making her favorite steak."
That perks her up. "Ohhhh, a Steak Diane?"
"Hmm-hmm." I park haphazardly in the front and then get out, opening the backdoor still talking through the speaker. "The one and only. Bye Donna, I'll have Gustavo text Pablo the information for tomorrow!"
"Okay, Hendrix, we'll see you tomorrow evening then. Do we need to bring anything for the baby, or her mom?"
"No, it's not necessary. Just bring yourselves. Bye now!"
Gustavo hangs up for me, and we proceed to carry in all the flowers. With Marianne's help, it takes three trips. I leave her to sorting it all out and hightail it to the kitchen .
"Chef Gerard!" I call out happily.
Walking into the massive kitchen I see he's hard at work; flames shoot up from the pan he's working over, and he looks at me with a serious face. He's devoid of a chef's hat, but he insists on wearing a chef's jacket, and his silvering blonde hair is a bit rumpled as he works. He gives me a little look, and I know it's because I invaded his space.
This might be my house, but for the last twelve years this kitchen has been his. I come in here only on holidays as I give him generous time off to fly to Sicily to see his family.
"Sir, I got your steak sitting over there. I know how you like it, rare!" Gerard slams another pan down hard and begins mashing potatoes by hand. His tone of voice let's me know he's still not happy with me from when I lost my shit with him over the noodle incident. Though he should be lucky. Anyone else would have been fired for almost making my woman faint at her own dining room table.
I walk deeper into the kitchen and sniff appreciatively.
"Aw come on, Gerard. Don't be like that." I lean my hips against the island and watch him work. "I just… wanted to come in here and see how you were doing. And maybe ask in person if you could please send Mrs. King out non-alcoholic wine."
Gerard throws me a bold, nasty look as he works to add more butter to the potatoes. "Non-alcoholic? Something's happened. What happened? Are you telling my bellissime mancanze that she cannot enjoy a glass of wine with her meal?!"
He looks outraged.
From what Carlotta tells me, Gerard had become close to Isobel during the couple weeks I left her at home to set up her floor at King Dynasty. So I let the bite of his tone slide, because it's incredibly endearing to me how sweet and protective the entire staff has become over her .
I raise my eyebrow on a grin. "Yes, only because Mrs. King is pregnant."
Gerard gets a shocked look on his face before putting the pot down with a little slam and turns to hold his hands up with a beaming smile.
Funny, because just a few seconds ago I thought he was about to knock me over the head with it.
"Ohhh congratulations Mr. King! What a joyous occasion!" He turns to grabs two shot glasses and a bottle of top shelf whiskey, and pours us both a shot. "Cheers, Mr. King. Let us pray for a boy."
I pause, holding the shot aloof with a frown. "Boy?"
He slams his shot and then goes back to the food. "Boys are simpler, not troublesome like girls. Trust me, you have a girl, then you will be gray before your time and then boom, dead of a heart attack. Pray for a boy."
Tossing my shot back, I'm busy thinking for a second about the difference between boys and girls when Gustavo comes in the door. "Sir, they're pulling through the gate," he tells me before heading back out the way he came.
I follow him, pausing in the dining room to make sure everything's set up. It's beautiful in there, with the candles, flowers, and fireplace going. The sun is setting and looks idyllic against the window pane. Seeing the car pull up, I head outside and down the stairs, pulling the back door open before the car even fully comes to a stop.
"Hi baby." The sight of her takes my breath away; however, I sober a bit when I see her complexion. She's paler than normal, her face is drawn and she's got little bags under her eyes and looks so tired. "Oh love, come here."
As she works to tuck her hair behind her ears, I stare hard, not quite believing she's pregnant with my baby. It's more than I could have ever dreamed of, having a family of my own. And with the woman who I spent months trying to get close to, lusting over, loving. I can't believe this day is finally here.
Trying to keep my heart from beating out of my chest, I reach in and pull her out, picking her up bridal style.
"Hendrix-"
"I've missed you so much gorgeous," I whisper against her lips before sealing my mouth to hers in a soft kiss. "I've missed you so much." Turning, I take the stairs slowly as to not jostle her and make my way into the house and through the threshold of the dining room.
"Do you need anything, sweetie? Before we sit down for supper?" I ask quietly. Pressing my lips to the top of her hair I inhale her unique scent, clutching her harder to me. She's so soft, womanly, desirable. Mine.
Isobel clutches her fingers into my shirt. "No…" she says. "But I want to go to bed after dinner. I'm tired, I think I overdid it and should have stayed home like you said." I clutch her harder, wishing we could skip dinner. But now, in her condition, that wouldn't be smart.
"That's okay beautiful. We have all weekend to rest. Though you know tomorrow Teresa's bringing baby Vi to my parents' for us all to meet." When I pull out her chair, she tightens even more against me. The action soothes my nerves, and I turn, sitting carefully in my seat with her nestled against my lap. "What is it, gorgeous?"
"I'm pregnant!" she sobs. Her eyes well up, the tip of her nose turns red as she bursts into tears before burying her face in my neck. There's a desperation there that makes me weak, calls to me. Just when I'm raising my hand to stroke her hair, Marianne breezes through the door with our food on dome covered plates.
"Thank you Marianne," I say quietly.
She leaves with a nod, throwing Isobel a fond look before leaving. It's adorable how much my staff respects and cares for her already, and I am once again so validated in my choice that I can't help but take a minute to just be there with her. I wait until Marianne exits the room before I turn my face into hers, nuzzling her temple, taking a deep breath and soaking her in.
"I know you are, baby." With a finger hooked under her chin I turn her to face me, ignoring her squeak of surprise. Her eyes are wide as I lower my lips to hers and kiss her softly, before deepening it.
She tastes like salt tears, and it makes me want to crawl inside of her and ensure that she'll never hurt ever again. I'm busy basking in how hard she's clutching me to her, my hands roaming over her soft curves and permeating my lungs with her smell when her next words send me crashing down back to earth with a literal bang straight to the heart. "Don't make me get rid of it," she cries.
Digging her nails into my shoulders she hangs on tight, and it's then I notices she's trembling.
Wait, what did she say?
The beating of my heart quickens as I struggle to process her words. Tilting my head back I can't help but pin her with a look that I know must be an incredulous one. My brows furrow before arching as I clock the almost manic desperation to her expression, the way she's breathing, how hard she's currently digging her nails into my arms.
"What?!" I say, shocked. "Why on earth would you say that, Isobel?"
Get rid of it?
"Because you wanted me , not a baby!" she cries tearfully as her eyes flicker back and forth between mine. She licks her lips, and at the sight of the tears rolling down her cheeks I raise a hand and swipe them away with my thumb.
"Sweetheart, if I didn't want a baby with you I would have used a condom when we were having sex. I wasn't concerned about a pregnancy." I emphasis on a half-laugh, seeing her crying begin to slow. "I thought that was made clear when I told you that I loved you. So, why would I make you do something that might potentially hurt you?" I ask softly, seeing her eyebrows furrow.
"I-I don't understand…you knew I was on birth control though… so I thought that you were just relying on that."
I grin at her, deciding that I love a discombobulated Isobel. "Izzy, birth control isn't always fool proof, and whenever I was with a partner before you, I always used a condom regardless if they were on birth control or not."
At the mention of me being with other women, even if it was well before I began stalking her, Isobel's demeanor changes so suddenly that it takes me by surprise. Her hazel eyes narrow, and her mouth pulls into a pout forcing me to tighten my arms around her to try and placate that little demon that's trying to make an appearance and ruin our moment.
"But- with you," I stroke her cheek, trying to soften her up. "I didn't have the same worries as I had with others. I knew what I wanted with you Isobel, and that included a family of our own. I never just wanted you, baby, I wanted everything that we could possibly amass together. And for the record, I'd like an army of children."
Isobel's eyes go from being narrow to wide before she swallows hard. "W-W-Well," she stammers, turning a vivid shade of red. " I think one, for now, would be just fine."
She goes to move off my lap, but I tighten my grip around her in a warning for her to relax and be still. As she settles back against my arm, we both watch, riveted, as I work to pull up her shirt, exposing her tummy. I place my hand right over her belly button and press.
"Hendrix, are you sure? Please don't make me think you're okay with this if you really aren't-" Isobel's back to being nervous, but I interrupt her, quickly putting my eyes to hers, letting her know under no circumstances am I playing with her emotions.
"We will give our child a beautiful life, one where she doesn't have to worry about being sad, or unloved, or abandoned. She won't ever have to worry about eating noodles every meal until she's so sick of them she doesn't want them anymore. Maybe we can grow a garden for her so she can pick her own food? She will be one spoiled little girl."
Isobel smiles at me before placing her hand over mine. "Okay… but not too spoiled, or you'll have a monster on your hands if you aren't careful."
I chuckle. "And I should be afraid of a monster, when I have a little she-devil for a wife?"
Isobel gasps and hits my arm. "Hendrix! Stop calling me that."
"No," I say sternly. "Don't ask me to." I bend, treating her to a rough, lavish kiss before finally letting her up and helping her into her seat.
"And a girl? Why not a boy?"
Pulling off the covered dome to her dinner, the sight of her serene smile makes my heart warm as she begins to dig in.
"I fancy myself in a pink tutu sitting at a little fake china set and playing with dolls with a daughter who smears make up on my face as we play dress up." I grin at her, seeing her smile back. "And, well, it'd be nice to break a generational curse too while we're at it. We need more daddy's girls in the family to give us men a run for our money."
Isobel's eyes suddenly go sad, making me reach for her hand. I know she has scars on her heart from not having a dad in her life, and I vow to give our child everything that she didn't have. Maybe it will help heal her wounds as well.
"Hey, it's going to be okay, beautiful." I press my lips to her temple and breathe her scent in deeply. "I'm going to make sure of it."
Isobel gives me a tentative smile in return, and nods. We take our time finishing our dinner, holding hands and talking quietly about baby names, and make plans to turn her blue bedroom into a nursery.
Mariah. We're going to name her Mariah.