Chapter twenty-eight
Harrison's Apartment, The Level
Harrison
“I have an ultrasound today,” Violet says. “Do you still want to come?”
I glance up at her over the bowl of muesli I’m eating. She appeared at my door ten minutes ago. She’s been spending more time here, but still retreats to Mrs. D.’s apartment every other night. The time is coming closer for her to move in permanently, I can feel it.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I reply, and she beams in response. The possessiveness I feel for the child growing inside her is shocking. Never did I think another man’s baby could mean so much, be so important in my future.
"Do you have a busy day ahead?” she asks.
“With us shutting down for Christmas holidays this week, I have back-to-back meetings. Mr. Moneybags is coming in to discuss how we can apply more pressure on Aiden to get his money back. I’m not feeling hopeful.”
“How come?” she says.
“He paid him in cash.” Her eyes pop from her head, and I laugh. “Two million pounds handed over in a suitcase for an investment. Not much shocks me, but that did. No traceability, no electronic records detailing the agreement. He literally handed him it with no strings.”.
“I’m not a lawyer,” she says, “but even I know that’s a bad idea.”
“What time is your appointment? I’ll arrange for security to collect you and bring you home. Don’t go anywhere without them—at least one man within arm’s reach of you at all times.”
She rolls her eyes, already bored by yet another speech on keeping her safe.
“Violet, this is serious. The threat is still there. You need protection at all times.”
“Even in the bathroom?” she asks, portraying innocence. “Do I need a bodyguard in the stall as I urinate? You know, in case Aiden pops his head up the toilet to steal me away.”
“Be fucking serious,” I tell her, then move on quickly before she can annoy me any more. She smiles sweetly. “Is there anything else you need to do today?”
“Samantha might come to visit. I’d love to go out for a hot drink and a huge piece of cake.” Her eyes rise to the ceiling, and she rubs at her stomach. “Cake would be nice, in a café, with other people.”
“I’ll tell you what. I’ll meet you at our ultrasound.” She grins manically with her plump pink lips. “What?”
“Our ultrasound,” she mouths, then walks over and wraps her arms around my neck, standing behind me as I sit in my chair.
“Our baby, our ultrasound,” I tell her, then continue with what I was going to say. “I’ll arrange for Samantha to meet you somewhere with mountains of cake and sweet treats. As long as the security team know, they can prepare for it. Leave it with me. Your wish is my command.”
“You really are like my own personal genie.” She squeezes me and drops a kiss on my cheek. “Except you’re not blue and aren’t a very good singer.”
“It’s good that those two features are not on your list of requirements in a life partner,” I say, then place my bowl on the table and tap her arms with my fingers. “I need to go. Work is calling, I’ll see you at…”
“Eleven.”
“Eleven it is. It’s a date at the ultrasound clinic.” She removes her arms. I stand then grab my briefcase and leave, calling over my shoulder, “Love you.” It feels incredibly surreal but right.
***
Two minutes past eleven shows on the clock as I pull into the hospital parking lot.
Not caring who sees, I dump my car at the entrance and toss the keys to one of my security team standing at the door.
“Second floor. Out of the elevator and turn left,” he shouts behind me.
I take off at a run and try to navigate my way through the hordes of people currently trying to pass through the carousel doors.
“Excuse me,” I mutter as I slide by them.
None of them seem to be in a rush to be anywhere.
As I enter the hallway, an old woman with a stick is in front.
She holds it out to the side as I pass, causing me to promptly trip over it.
Stumbling forward, my highly shined Italian leather shoes slip on the tiled floor.
After two more staggering steps, I land in the arms of a security guard who is glowering openly.
His badge tells me his name is Fred and he is hospital security.
“Sorry, sorry,” I say, quickly pushing myself back up to stand from his embrace. He sighs and releases me.
“Excuse me, sir, can I ask where you’re headed? And what has you so flustered? We take patient safety extremely seriously here. If you don’t calm down, I may have to ask you to leave,” he tells me, then puffs out his chest like he owns the fucking planet.
“The ultrasound suite. My girlfriend has an appointment.” I glance at my watch. “Like now. I need to go.” As I try to push past him, he places a hand on my chest. “Don’t touch me. I think you’ll find that is outside the parameters of your job description.”
“What would you know about my job description?”
“Enough that I could prove a case to get you fired if you piss me off enough. Now, let me pass.” He laughs and shakes his head.
“Jumped-up prick,” he says, looking me up and down. “You might have a big wallet and be used to people kowtowing to your demands, but within these walls, I’m in charge.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I spit as my phone starts ringing. I pull it from my pocket. “Hello.”
“Where are you?” Violet hisses down the line. “I’ve been called in. They’re waiting for you.”
“The security guard is holding me hostage in reception.”
“What did you do?” she says, and I scowl at the phone. Why bloody assume I’m at fault?
“I didn’t do anything. I’ll be with you in a minute. Let me discuss the options with this gentleman.” She sighs then mutters something under her breath. “What was that?”
“Hurry the fuck up.”
I go to snap back at her, but she disconnects the call before I can respond.
I turn back to the idiot playing God in front of me.
“Now, thanks to you, I have a pissed-off pregnant woman to deal with. Give me the name of your supervisor. I’ll be discussing your conduct with them after my appointment.”
“Fred,” someone calls, distracting him. I take my chance to dodge past him and run for the staircase, taking them two at a time.
“Stop!” he blares behind me. I ignore him and keep running.
Pushing the double doors open, I burst into the waiting room and find Violet sitting with her arms crossed over her bump.
She glares at me and stands, then marches over.
Her gait is wider than it once was to allow for her changing shape.
She stops directly under my nose and looks up at me, openly furious.
“Fuck, you look as hot as hell,” I tell her. “All frustrated with pent-up rage and bursting hormones. Is there a store cupboard around here?”
“What?” she stammers, confused by my statement.
“I know how to relieve that fury.” I grin at her then quickly pinch her nipple. Her mouth drops open.
“People are watching,” she hisses.
“All I need is you with your legs spread and my fingers in that slick pussy of yours. What do you say?” I continue. “It could be just what you need.”
“No fucking chance. You’re late.” Her tone is annoyed, but I see a smile playing on her lips. There is the sound of rushed footsteps.
“Quick, which room are we meant to be in?” She gives me a curious look. “That could be security coming to throw me out, and I don’t want to miss seeing our baby today.”
She grabs my hand and leads me to a white door standing ajar beside the chair she was sitting on.
On the wall to the right-hand side, there is a small TV screen with her name in white lettering on a blue background.
Violet Chase. That is something I want to change in the future.
Violet Waite sounds much more appealing.
Her small hand lifts and knocks gently on the plastic surface, then she pushes the door open.
As we step through, an elderly man with wispy gray hair and a long white coat stands at the prepared medical bed.
He smiles kindly and introduces himself as our sonographer.
We both say hello in unison, and everyone laughs.
“If you could lie on the bed then pull your dress up to expose your stomach,” he says.
He points to a pale pink sheet folded on the cabinet beside him.
“This is to cover your lower half during the procedure. I’ll give you a moment to get ready.”
He nods then pulls the blue curtain around the bed to give us some privacy.
Violet stands on the small wooden step placed next to the bed.
She climbs up then hitches her dress above her bump before lying down.
I grab the sheet from the bottom of the bed and lay it over her panties and legs.
Moving to stand at her head, I twist a stray curl between my fingers and bend down, placing a soft kiss on her lips.
“Are you ready?” I whisper softly, and she smiles in answer. “That’s us ready for you,” I call, and the curtain opens as the man who will show us our baby walks back in.
“Wow,” I murmur in Violet’s ear. We both have our gazes fixed on the screen in front of us. “It’s like a real baby.” She giggles softly, and I kiss her cheek. “You know what I mean. In the last one they looked like an alien, but this 4D image is amazing. You can see everything.”
“Do you want to know the sex?” the sonographer asks, and Violet shakes her head.
“No, thank you. I want it to be a surprise for us both.”
She smiles, her face filled with complete joy.
“I can’t believe this is happening, Harry,” she says.
“After everything, I’m here with you and we are planning our little family together. Doing all the normal stuff we should be doing.”
I lower my lips to her temple, closing my eyes and breathing her in.
She smells beautiful as usual—the perfume she wears is instantly recognizable.
“Never change your perfume,”. I tell her.
“It’s a cheap bottle from the local pharmacy,” she replies. “I don’t even know what it’s called.”
“Whatever it is, it’s you. When the scent hits me, I know you’re near and everything calms.”
She glances at me. “You’ve saved me, Violet, as much as I saved you. This is a two-way process.”
We stare at each other for a beat. The sonographer clearing his throat breaks the moment.
Violet’s cheeks pink at being caught in what is an intimate exchange. Our focus returns to the screen.
***
Twenty minutes later, we are walking from the hospital hand in hand.