Chapter 25
Gabriella
I watched as Chandler stormed off, a storm brewing over his perfect head.
I hoped it would clear by the time he reached the board members because this charity event was important.
I wanted it to go off without a hitch, since it was the first one without my father running it.
By now, everyone knew I was Chandler’s right-hand woman, so impressions were everything, even if at first I wanted him to fail miserably.
Because of our business relationship, we had to put on an act, smiling for the cameras and pretending like we weren’t miserable around each other.
When we stood on the red carpet together, I could feel the tension standing next to him, though we had stupid smiles plastered on our faces.
I wished for a moment that he would dare to brush against me, but those days were seemingly over, now that I had pushed him away because of the pregnancy.
It was becoming harder and harder to do when a part of me wanted things to go back to the way they were.
I hated to admit that I missed him, especially on days like today when he looked so damn good in a new suit.
It was a cloudy blue color that set his eyes off from emerald green to more turquoise, a color I had never seen before.
I had felt his gaze on me outside at the valet, and felt more satisfaction than I would have liked over the look in his eye.
It was short-lived though, as if he suddenly remembered how cold I had been lately and that there was no chance he would be taking this white dress off me.
I was surprised to hear he invited his mother and Greg.
I knew they weren’t on the best of terms, especially since he was one of the last to find out about their upcoming nuptials.
I found them to be lovely people though, even Greg, the man he so very much despised.
My being friendly to his family wasn’t something I did on purpose, but he took it that way, which was just ridiculous. His temper was a short fuse.
It was exactly the reason why I had been unsure of telling him about my pregnancy.
I didn’t know how he would react and I was already confused and terrified as it was.
I wasn’t sure I could handle a callous response.
Plus, he struggled to be at peace with his own family, which was something I saw firsthand just now.
How would that affect his ability to be a father?
I watched as he wined and dined the board members, a smile on his face. The one he usually put on when he was doing his best to impress. He looked so charming from up here. I almost believed it. They were eating it up though, which was all that mattered for today.
“He certainly knows how to win over a crowd,” said his mother, walking up behind me.
I jumped slightly, knowing I was caught staring at her son.
“Sandy,” I said, putting my hand to my heart. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Oh, I’m just exploring the place. It’s beautiful. Is the event held here every year?” she asked, looking across the stone terrace to the large green beyond.
“It’s become tradition,” I said. “It’s the one charity event we hold that the location stays the same. It’s on one the of the best courses in New York, which keeps bringing back our celebrity guests and pros.”
“I can see why,” she said, clearly impressed.
“Do you golf any?” I asked.
She waved me off as she took a sip of wine. “I can’t even play putt-putt. I’m just here to support my son.” She laughed.
I smiled. “And Greg? Does he golf?” I looked around for him, but didn’t spot him.
“Oh no. It’s not really his thing. I think he just said he liked it to come support Chandler. He’s always looking for a way in with my son, but often fails,” said Sandy, somewhat sadly.
“Well, it was good of you both to come anyway,” I said warmly, thinking maybe Greg wasn’t as bad as Chandler painted him out to be.
They were clearly making an effort to support Chandler, even if he refused to see it.
I couldn’t understand how such a kind woman had such a vile son.
As I looked at her, I tried to find Chandler in her features, but her eyes were warm and her hair was light.
I could see him in her smile though, of the rare times I saw him genuinely happy. He must have taken after his father.
“I’m proud of him, you know,” she said softly, looking out at Chandler who was still shmoozing.
“I’m sure he would love to hear that,” I said.
“Is there any food in this joint?” asked Greg, coming up behind us and rubbing his stomach.
I laughed. “Of course. The buffet is set up just on the other side of the terrace in the ballroom. I’ll take you there.”
I led the way, avoiding the cool look Chandler shot my way as he watched me lead his mother and Greg around. Someone had to do it. If he was going to ignore his guests, then I would have to step in. I shot him a look right back before giving an opposite look to Sandy and her partner.
We walked into the large ballroom where three long buffet tables were lined up with pressed white tablecloths and layered with platters of food. My stomach grumbled at the sight of the croissants, French toast, and bacon. Lately, it felt like all I had been craving were carbs and greasy food.
“This is quite a spread,” said Greg, eagerly taking a plate.
“We have one of the best caterers on the East Coast, so enjoy,” I said with an encouraging nod.
I let the two of them go ahead of me, grabbing a plate and following behind.
I perused the spread, plucking up an almond croissant, a small bowl of mixed berries, a piece of the brioche French toast that I drenched in syrup, and a few slices of bacon.
I steered clear of the impressive charcuterie spread that was filled with things I was instructed not to eat, according to what I read online about pregnancy.
I met Sandy at the mimosa station where she was making her own concoction of champagne, orange juice, a splash of pineapple juice, and two raspberries.
I would be lying if I said it didn’t look good.
I opted for a mocktail version, leaving out the champagne.
Greg was nearby at the bloody Mary station, making a feast of garnishes for his spicy cocktail.
We walked out onto the terrace where round tables were set up on the smooth stone surface, warm from the summer day.
We sat down at a table overlooking the course and made small talk about Harold Enterprises and what it was like growing up with my mother and father.
Greg seemed impressed by my father’s small start, and working his way up in the dog eat dog realm of the business world.
“I assume his business sense rubbed off on you?” he asked, popping an olive in his mouth.
“Definitely. I didn’t realize I had a passion for it until later in life, but now I couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. Or doing anything else,” I said.
“How has it been with Chandler?” he asked, prying slightly from the small smirk on his face.
“It’s been…” I tried to search for the word without telling them what an asshole he really was. “Different.” I laughed softly.
Greg let out a chuckle and a knowing look. His mother looked at me sympathetically.
“He’s a tough one to crack,” she said, reaching over and patting my hand.
“You could say that again.” I looked out to the course to try and spot him, only noticing his mother’s gaze on me when I turned back to the table. She had a look in her eye that I couldn’t quite read.
“I’m going back for seconds,” said Greg, picking up his plate.
“We just sat down!” said Sandy wide-eyed as she looked at his empty plate.
“I’m hungry.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before walking back inside.
Sandy’s cheeks turned pink. I could see the love they had for each other in that small gesture. I couldn’t ignore the tinge of jealousy I felt inside me, wishing I could have that one day.
“He’s a glutton,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
I laughed out loud.
“You know, I don’t know if it’s this balmy summer day, but you’re positively glowing,” said Sandy, tilting her head as she looked at me.
“Am I?” I asked, nearly choking.
My heart came to a full stop. Did she know?
“It’s probably all the sun and sweat. Gotta love a heat wave in New York.” I laughed nervously.
“Hmm,” she said, seemingly unconvinced. “Are you a vegetarian?” she asked.
I lifted a piece of bacon and took a bite. “I would be a poor excuse for one.”
“Oh!” She laughed, putting her hand to her mouth. “It’s just I noticed you didn’t hit up that lovely spread of deli meat at the charcuterie table.”
I swallowed hard. Sandy was an observant woman, and seemed to be on to me. Maybe it was mother’s intuition. I just wondered how good that intuition was and if she was on to me and her son.
“Come to think of it…you didn’t help yourself to any of that fine champagne…”
I felt my body start to heat up, nerves budding in my stomach as I watched her piece me together.
“I don’t mean to overstep…but are you pregnant?” she asked.
My mouth opened slightly, taken off guard that she would flat-out ask.
I didn’t think it was with ill intent, I just thought it was because she was an older woman who was a little too curious.
I felt my eyes tear up and Sandy’s eyes filled with worry.
I couldn’t say anything, but I didn’t have to because I just gave myself away.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry,” she said, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. “I’m just a nosy old woman with a love for babies.”
“It’s okay,” I said softly, wiping a tear from my cheek, looking around nervously. The last thing I needed was Chandler to see me crying with his mother. “It’s just been a lot. I’m so confused…”
She nodded and looked out toward the golf course, lost in thought. I wondered how much she knew about me and Chandler, if anything. He didn’t seem like the type to talk to his mother about his affairs, but the knowing look in her eye earlier said she somehow had put two and two together.
“It can be scary,” she said, her eyes distant. “But it would be an awful thing for a father not to know his baby…”
Was this woman a psychic or something?
“It would also be an awful thing for him to find out from someone else.” Her light brown eyes drifted toward me and locked with mine.
I was too stunned to speak. She was basically telling me that if I didn’t come clean, she would tell her son herself. I snapped my mouth shut and nodded slowly. She gave me a weak smile before standing from the table.
“I better go find Greg before there’s nothing left…”
I watched as she walked into the ballroom, finding Greg at the omelet station.
She leaned in close and whispered something in his ear.
He jerked his head back and looked to where I sat, my body now shaking.
It felt like the walls were closing in, even as I sat outside with nothing around but grass and trees for miles.
I wiped my mouth with my napkin and set it on the table before pulling myself to my feet, praying my legs wouldn’t give out on me. I had to find Chandler.