Chapter 1
CANDY
Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year. I would always find the silver lining in the holiday. There is magic in the air, or maybe it’s the hope that there will be.
This year is different. I have this unsettling feeling and a sense of dread.
There’s no reason for it. I’m in a place that is kind of mine.
It’s not a dorm room or foster home, but still, everything is off, and I can’t put my finger on why.
It doesn’t help that I got a weird message from a woman at Bloom Fertility.
She’s one of the nurses at the facility.
It’s strange for her to reach out to me outside of the office, and that’s what she wants to do. She’s asked to meet up alone, which is harder to pull off than it should be. It's giving me an uneasy feeling and a bundle of worry.
It has to be about the baby. But why does she want to tell me whatever it is at a coffee shop in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday?
The thing is, as odd as it is, it also isn’t.
Again, things have been off, and it’s as though I’ve been waiting for the universe to tell me why that is.
When she reached out to me, I knew this was it.
My hand goes to the small bump that is barely visible.
I keep telling myself it’s the baby hormones, but I can only lie to myself for so long.
It doesn’t help that my best friend Max has been strange too.
Again, I was chalking that up to the fact that I’m carrying his baby.
I’m still not sure how he talked me into that one.
Okay, I do know exactly how. The man has done so much for me, and this is the one thing I can do for him that he can’t do for himself.
I was more than shocked when he told me he wanted a baby.
He can be a bit of a playboy. I didn’t see him ever settling down, but that might be why he’s going about having a baby this way. He doesn’t have to settle down.
I smile when a snowflake hits me right in the eye. Wait, is that the universe telling me to open my damn eyes? I might be missing all the signs or maybe I’m too scared to see them.
I brace my hand on the door to the coffee shop, glancing behind me. There has been this eerie sensation of being watched lately. I even have it when I’m at home. I glance around, and when I don’t see anyone who appears to be watching, I push through the door, a bell chiming overhead.
Cara is sitting at a table all the way in the back. She waves me over. I take a deep breath, loving the smell of coffee, which is new. I hate the taste of it. Always have. Today, however, there is a sugar cookie smell mixed with it.
I slip through a few tables, making my way to her.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.” Cara glances behind me. It makes me do the same, but I don’t see anything. “Sit. I just have to get this out.” Good, because I need you to too.
“You’re freaking me out,” I tell her, pulling the chair back to sit down. Cara is in her normal scrubs, her blond hair pulled back tightly. "The baby is okay, right? Let's get that clear."
The baby might not be mine in a biological sense, but I'm already attached. Actually, I'm way too attached, which scares me because I have no rights to the baby. I try and talk myself down, knowing that Max wants me to be a part of the baby's life. It's partly why I'd agreed to move in with him.
It works out better all around. I'm still on the job hunt fresh out of college. I can’t get a call back to save my life. Not even to set up an interview.
Max graduated a couple of years ago and is already running his family's finance company. He is what most call a trust fund baby. I can't hate or knock it because as his best friend, I get to benefit from some of the luxury of that. I think it's one of the reasons I feel beholden to him.
He also helped me pay for my last year of college when one of the programs I'd gotten a scholarship for fell through. I was sure I wouldn't be able to finish and get my degree, but Max was there, ready and willing to help. Having this baby is the least I can do to help him.
“The baby is perfect.” I let out a breath. “It’s just not the baby you think it is.” She looks around as though she’s making sure she’s in the clear. I stare at her. What the hell does that even mean?
“Like it’s a panda?” I joke, but she doesn’t find it funny. Her ominous expression has me sitting up straighter.
“I could get in so much trouble for this,” she mutters.
“But this is fucked up. I wouldn’t be able to lay my head on the pillow at night if I didn’t tell you.
” My anxiety ramps up to a level I never even knew was possible.
What could be so fucked up that she would have to sneak around outside of the facility to tell me?
That it would cause her sleepless nights?
“Okay, we’re back to me being really freaked out,” I tell her. “Say it. Please. I can’t deal with this stress.” My hand goes protectively to my stomach.
“The baby isn’t Max’s.”
“What?” Of course it is.
“He’s shooting blanks, Gwen. Trust me, I know.”
“Okay.” I nod, taking a deep breath. This could be worse. I actually am relieved if that’s all it is. The egg isn’t mine either. “Maybe it’s a topic he doesn’t like to share.”
I mean, he doesn't have to tell me everything, but if he was going to use donor sperm, I would think that is something he would talk to me about. You know, to get my approval. But the bun is already in the oven, so there’s not much I can do about it now.
It’s still his baby. Plus, when it comes to Max and his ego and anything in a challenging male way, he always gets a puffed-out chest. It’s annoying as hell, but we all have our faults.
“That’s not all.”
“Holy butterscotch. There’s more?” What else could it be?
“The person's sperm he used was not donated. He took it from another client.” My whole world tilts on its axis as Cara’s words fully sink in.
“What!” I gasp. My heart sinks. That freaking changes everything. If this person finds out, they might want the baby. Then I won’t have access to it either. What the hell was Max thinking?!
“Shh,” Cara hushes me, glancing around again. She is really paranoid, and now it’s making me more paranoid than I already was. Is this the thing that’s felt so off to me? Cara taps on a folder she has on the table in front of her. “And the donor egg.”
“Oh my gosh, they don’t know either?” I gape at her. Cara gives a stiff shake of her head no.
“What was he thinking?” I whisper more to myself. “Are you going to report this or something?” I ask her, not sure what to do with all this information or where one goes from here. My mind is spinning.
“There wasn’t a donor egg per se.” I blink, staring at her. Wait, what? That’s not possible. I wasn’t a biology major, but I know you need a freaking egg. “It’s your egg.”
“Holy eggnog.” I cover my mouth with my hand. This is getting crazier by the second. No wonder we are sneaking around. But if it is my egg, as messed up as that is, the baby can’t be taken from me. Right? Yeah, I wasn’t a pre-law major either.
“You’re a sweet girl, and well, Max Holmberg is a very rich man and one who I believe is obsessed with you.”
“He’s my best friend,” I correct her. As if saying it will make it fact.
“Girl.” She shakes her head. “No, he’s not. The man is baby trapping you with a baby that isn’t even his.” Cara pushes the folder toward me. “This is all I can do. Max Holmberg has a lot of power in this city, and I don’t want to test that. I’ve done my part.” Cara gets up.
That’s it? She’s leaving? She gives me this wealth of information which totally uproots my life, and then she just ghosts me?
“Cara?”
She gives me a sympathetic expression. “Merry Christmas, Gwen,” Cara says before leaving me sitting at the table all alone with the folder in front of me. I stare down at it. My mind is still trying to catch up and process everything she told me.
“Gwen.”
“Ahh!” I scream, my hand flying to my chest. I turn my head to see Max standing there. Why does it feel like he’s looming over the table? “You scared the snowballs out of me.”
“You’re an adult, Gwen. You can curse.” Max takes the chair that Cara was in moments ago. Did he see her? How long have I been sitting here with my mind racing? This is a weird coincidence.
“I know.” I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear but quickly drop my hand because next he’ll say I’m fidgeting.
Max and I come from two different walks of life. We only became friends by chance my freshman year of college. He was a PA for one of my classes and ended up tutoring me. To say I suck at math is an understatement.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"What are you doing here?" I force a small laugh. "This place is far from your office." Which is where I thought he was, but I'm not keeping tabs on him.
Why would I? But God knows he's been keeping them on me since I became pregnant. If I didn't know any better, I would say before too. His caring hasn't felt like caring lately. More like obsessing now that Cara has put that in my head. It’s overbearing.
Initially, I believed his concern was genuine.
I'm pretty much alone in the world, and it was nice that someone seemed to care if I got home each night. I think he might have taken advantage of that. I need to get better at sticking up for myself with him, but it’s intimidating for a reason I don’t understand.
That only makes me wonder if it’s because on a deeper level I do.
My subconscious is catching things I haven’t been.
"You know that I only worry about you." He gives me a soft smile that makes me feel guilty for my thoughts. "What's this?" He reaches for the folder, and I slam my hand down on top of it. Max's eyes widen in shock that I wouldn’t allow him to take it.
"Christmas stuff." The lie tumbles right off my lips. "Don't be ruining it."
"That's why you're on this side of town."
"You got me." Another one of the forced awkward laughs bubbles out of me. I hate lying, but I don’t feel as though I have a choice. "How are you doing today?" I try to change the subject.
"Same shit." He shrugs as a barista passes by, and I see his eyes drop to her ass. See, he's a playboy. No way he's obsessed with me.
"Are you going to get her number?" I ask. The smile drops from his face.
"Of course not. I have a baby on the way.
" He reaches across the table, grabbing my hands.
I'm pretty sure he had a pretty brunette over last week.
He thought he was sneaky, but I saw. There is no reason for him to be sneaky.
It kind of bothers me that he is. He seems to have all these secrets while I can barely move without him watching.
"I'm going to be settling down now." Max's hands give mine a squeeze.
“Who’s the lucky girl?” I give a bright smile. His brows furrow together.
“We should talk about that.” His expression turns serious, Okay, maybe there is a girl. That’s a relief.
Not sure what to do with that because this is my baby apparently. I just need to get through this conversation. Then I’ll go from there with my thoughts.
“What’s there to talk about?”
“What if we tried to be together, Gwendolyn?” I hate when he calls me that.
It’s my middle name. My first name is Candy.
Max told me it sounded like a stripper's name. That it wasn’t sufficient.
The thing is, my mother was a stripper, so there’s that.
It never really bothered me, but Max makes me feel shame over it.
Candy Gwendolyn Snow. I don't know how my birth mother came up with that, but then again, I don't really know her at all. Still, the name Candy never bothered me. Until he pointed out that it was trashy.
“Max, we talked about this.” This isn’t the first time he’s brought this up, nor the second. But I thought we were past that. It was when we first became friends that he mentioned it.
I quickly let him know that I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. Not only that, but I didn’t see him that way at all. There was no spark or anything. I often still wonder how we’re friends. I was sure that idea was ancient history, but I have been told I’m rather na?ve when it comes to men.
“Just think about it. Really think, Gwendolyn. We could be a family. I’d give you everything you ever wanted.” I don’t think that’s love. Not my definition of it, anyway.
“I—”
“Don’t answer me now.” I bite the inside of my cheek, hating when he does that. He’ll cut me off so I can’t give my opinion, and then we never get back to it. He’ll push through, but this isn’t one he can sway me on. “You need me.” I fight not to flinch.
That’s a loaded three words because I’m not sure he’s wrong. If he tossed me out, where would I go? That’s not even my biggest concern. What would happen to my baby?
The more I think it over, the more my reality settles in and my perspective swings to another vantage point. All the small things Max has done for me are pulling me more and more under his control. He’s making it so that I’m dependent on him fully. It doesn’t bring comfort; it brings panic.
It started with small things, like we can share a phone plan, let me help set up your bank account; you should always have a secondary person on it in case of emergencies.
Right, because Max has no need to steal from me.
My bank account is laughable compared to any of his.
Except it might not be about that at all. Control is more like it.
“Let’s go.” Max stands. Why does it feel like I don’t have a choice right now? I’ve done this to myself. This isn’t the moment to push back. Not when I still have this folder right here, so I simply stand and let him lead me out of the coffee shop, where, of course, Bailey is waiting.
Bailey gives me the creeps, and he’s Max’s right-hand man for everything. He can be a driver, a bodyguard, or an errand boy. Bailey opens the back door for me, and I slip in.
“Make sure she gets home,” Max tells him before glancing back down to me.
“Stay home,” he orders before he gives me a soft smile that is different, or maybe I’m only seeing it differently.
It doesn’t reach his eyes. It’s fake. “You need your rest. You’re pregnant.
Think about the baby when you’re running around this city. ” Aka, stop being childish.
"Of course." I give him back the same smile in return before he closes the door on me, thinking this is over.
I reach down and rub the small bump there. It's not only me anymore. I'm going to figure out what the heck is going on.
This Christmas is going to be a whole lot different than any other before.