Chapter 11
ELEVEN
Ella
Natasha and I stare at Gianna, mouths open. I can’t believe what I’m seeing and hearing.
“You’re not saying…” I gesture to her large baby bump.
“It’s Tom’s baby,” she says. “Yes.”
My head is shaking in disbelief and I force myself to hold still, because, just, no. But Gianna’s eyes are filling with tears.
“I believe you,” I say, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m sorry—it’s just a huge shock, you know?”
“It sounds like he never told you about me,” she says, looking down. “He told me that you didn’t want to meet.”
My heart aches for her. “I would have one hundred percent wanted to meet you. I, uh, I haven’t been able to reach Tommy, though. Do you know where he is?”
A sob erupts from her throat and she covers her mouth, blinking back tears. “I haven’t seen Tom in three—three days.”
Okay, that’s it. I definitely need to talk to Gianna, learn more about her relationship with Tommy, and, if nothing else, give her the support he doesn’t seem capable of offering.
Natasha must be reading my mind, because she asks Gianna, “When does your shift end?”
“About an hour,” Gianna says, still looking miserable.
“I really want to talk to you,” I tell her, “and get to know you. Can we come back when your shift is over?”
“Gianna,” the guy behind the counter says, “you can go. I’ll take care of the tables until Carol gets here.”
Other than Squid and Roman at the counter, there are only a couple of tables with people at them.
Quickly wiping away the tears on her cheeks, Gianna turns to face the guy at the counter and says, “Are you sure?”
“Yep, it’s dead tonight, anyway. Go.”
She looks around the diner, then slides into the booth beside me. She almost doesn’t fit; there’s barely enough room for her baby bump. “I’ll stay right here,” she says to her coworker. “If it gets busy before Carol arrives, I can still help.”
He shakes his head, obviously frustrated that she won’t take a break. He seems to care about her. When she sees me looking at him, she says, “He’s my cousin. His mom—my aunt—owns this place.”
“This is where you met Tommy, isn’t it?” I say.
“Yeah.” She gives me a soft smile. “He used to come in a lot, really late. The place was pretty dead, so we’d talk for hours and he’d order coffee after coffee.”
“Where did you see him last?” I ask.
“At home. He was mad about something, but I had to come to work, so I left. We always had a rule, that we wouldn’t leave each other when we were angry—we’d make up first. But he wasn’t talking, and I was pissed, so I took off. I think he ghosted me and the baby.”
“He wouldn’t do that,” I say.
Natasha arches an eyebrow at me.
“He wouldn’t,” I insist. “He’s been an asshole lately, but family is important to him.”
“Then what do you think happened to him?” Gianna asks. “He really wanted to come to my prenatal appointments, and there’s one tomorrow, but he’s not returning my calls or anything.”
“He isn’t returning mine, either,” I say, squeezing her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Gianna starts crying, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders and look at Natasha. This is not at all what I expected when I came out with Natasha tonight. “I’m sorry,” I mouth at her.
“Are you kidding?” she says quietly. “It’s okay. This is important. Hey, Gianna, why don’t you tell us a little about the baby? Do you know if you’re having a boy or a girl?”
“Tom and I want it to be a surprise,” she says, sniffling.
“And you’re thirty-six weeks along?” I ask. “Thirty-six weeks is nine months. That’s, like, birth time, right? I know nothing about pregnancy.”
“Yeah,” she says. “About forty weeks is full-term. So I’m nearly there.”
We talk a little bit more about the baby, carefully avoiding any mentions of my brother, which just upsets Gianna. It’s getting late, though, and Gianna’s looking tired.
“We should let you get home,” I say to her.
“I am feeling rather tired. But I really, really enjoyed talking to you,” she says. “I’m so glad you found me.”
“Me, too,” I say, then I pause. “Did you say you have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow?”
“Yeah. It seems like they’re every other day at this point,” she says with a laugh.
“How about I come with you?” I say. As soon as the suggestion is out of my mouth, I realize how presumptuous and pushy that sounds, so I quickly add, “If you want. If you’re uncomfortable, please just say so—I won’t be offended or anything. You can say no, I won’t mind?—”
“I’d like it, actually,” she says. “The appointment’s at two, if you’re free.”
“I am,” I say.
“Okay.” She grins at me. “What’s your number? I’ll text you the address.”
* * *
Kingston
I’m lying in bed, but not asleep, when my phone buzzes with a text. It’s Ella.
Hey. If you’re awake, I’d love to talk .
I press the screen to call her back immediately. “What’s going on?”
“I miss you,” she says on a sigh.
“I miss you, too.” I think about the necklace nestled in my suitcase.
I want to tell her about it so badly. Sebastian and I will need to figure out the best way to do it.
I don’t want to just hand it over as soon as we’re both home again.
It’s a collar. This isn’t some trinket to be taken lightly.
Whatever we do with it should be on par with a proposal.
“Something weird happened. I mean,” she says, “it was really cool, but…weird.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. I met Tommy’s girlfriend.”
“Huh. I didn’t know he had a girlfriend.”
“Yeah, neither did I,” she says. “Her name is Gianna. And it turns out, she’s pregnant.”
It takes me a moment to digest her words.
“Are you still there?” she asks.
“Well,” I finally say, “I guess that’s convenient.”
“What?” Ella’s voice rises in pitch.
“Tommy needs money, and now a pregnant girlfriend shows up out of the woodwork.”
“Are you being serious right now?” Ella asks. “Out of the woodwork ? Like Gianna is some kind of termite?”
“You don’t know for sure that this baby is your brother’s,” I point out.
“I’m not an idiot, Kingston.”
I sigh and rub my forehead, right between my eyebrows, trying to relieve the tension gathering there. “I know you’re not an idiot.”
“Then why are you acting like I’m one?”
I can picture her with her hands on her hips, her stubborn little chin jutting forward.
She could be making a huge mistake, trusting a stranger. This Gianna person could be a total scammer. She might not even be pregnant. And Ella just wants family so desperately, she could be missing the signs.
“Okay,” I say. “Okay, listen. I just want you to be careful, that’s all. Are your guards still going everywhere with you?”
“Yes, they are, because apparently you think I’m a child,” she says.
“No, I don’t think that.” Dammit. This conversation is going completely off-track. “I just want you to be safe. Physically and emotionally. Maybe we could ask Gianna to take a paternity test.”
“We are asking her no such thing. I can’t believe you’d even suggest it. What if I were pregnant? Would you make me take a paternity test to make sure the baby is yours?”
“It could be Bash’s, and that wouldn’t bother me in the slightest,” I say, grinning at the thought. “But for Gianna, it’s not a bad idea.”
“Look, just because your ex-wife baby-trapped you doesn’t mean every pregnant woman is a villain,” Ella says.
“I—”
She waits, but I’m not sure what to say, except one thing.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “You’re right. You’re there, and you have met this woman, seen her with your own eyes. I’ll trust your instincts.”
“Thank you.” She sounds mollified, but overly polite.
“Hey,” I say, “are we good?”
“Yes.” She heaves a great sigh. “I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
I’ve got to get back to San Esteban. The sooner the better. I can trust Ella’s instincts only so far. She is partly right—I’ve been burned, so it makes me cynical. But I need to meet this Gianna character before jumping to any conclusions.
* * *
Ella
The next morning, I wake up to the weight of Schrodinger sitting directly on my chest. When I open my eyes, his yellow ones are staring directly into mine.
“Shit, kitty, you scared the crap out of me,” I say.
The light coming through the curtains is brighter than normal—I must have overslept after the late and emotional evening with Natasha and Gianna…and then the brief argument with Kingston. Ugh.
I can’t believe my brother had a long-term girlfriend who is having his child, and he never even tried to tell me.
I sit up, dislodging Schrodinger from his perch, and check my phone.
I slept right through my alarm, but I still have time to get ready for work.
There are a couple of texts from both Kingston and Sebastian, wishing me a good morning.
My chest carries a faint ache—not from Schrodinger’s assholish wake-up call, but from missing my guys.
I miss Kingston’s stern scowl and Sebastian’s humor-filled smile.
Kingston’s text takes some of the ache away, because he reminds me that he’s sorry about last night, and he’s coming home tomorrow evening. I can’t wait.
I also can’t really blame him for thinking the worst about Gianna. But he didn’t meet her. He doesn’t know. She was surprised to see me, didn’t even know who I was.
At least now he’s willing to trust my instincts.
As I’m heading toward the elevator to leave, a call comes in from an unfamiliar number.
Oh, crap. What if it’s them—whoever them is? Tommy, or people who might have him hidden away somewhere? Or friends of his, if he’s running some kind of scam to get money from Kingston and Sebastian through me?
With my heart pounding way too fast, I answer the call. “Hello?”
“Miss Marchand? This is Detective Marks, from the San Esteban Police Department.”
I think my heart’s going to explode. “Is Tommy okay?”
“I have no information to say that he isn’t,” the detective says.
“Oh, good,” I say. “I just met his girlfriend last night. He’s going to be a father.”
“Interesting,” Detective Marks says.
I pause. “Interesting?”