Chapter 10
Travis
“Are you still in the city?” my agent, Norm, asks as I pace back and forth in the limited space of Alyssia’s living room.
I turn my head left and right to unkink the damn knot in my neck from sleeping on her couch last night.
She can’t continue living here. I think as I sweep my gaze around the room again.
It’s early but I’ve been on the phone for a couple of hours before Norm called.
Originally Alyssia’s doctor was unable to get her in before Tuesday, but I took it upon myself to make a few phone calls.
Unsurprisingly, her doctor’s schedule opened up. We now have an appointment at ten o’clock this morning.
“I’m here.”
“Good.” Norm blows out a breath. “Once you disappeared last night, I thought you’d flown back home early. I know being in the city isn’t your favorite. And it was your first appearance since—”
“I’m not thinking about that right now,” I snap at Norm.
A beat passes.
“Did you get a chance to meet Charlotte from that brand we talked about, last night?”
My mind goes back to the plethora of people I met the night before. Charlotte, from a watch brand Norm is trying to sign for me, comes to mind. Some boring conversation over baked chicken about how I would fit in with their legacy watch brand.
“You know, we might be able to get a joint deal for you and your father,” Norm continues. “Charlotte seemed interested when I floated the idea past her.”
“You spoke to her about my father?” I ask, tuning back into the conversation.
“She was all over it.” His voice becomes animated, and I can imagine the dollar signs in his eyes.
A sound from down the hall captures my attention, reminding me of what I need to take care of this morning.
Alyssia’s awake and has showered this morning already.
“We’ll talk about it later.”
“Okay, that reminds me of the Hammerson deal. They’re close to sending me the paperwork for you to sign the dotted line.”
Hammerson is a popular sports apparel company based in Europe but has a growing market share across Asia.
“There were a few executives there last night, but they didn’t get a chance to speak with you directly.”
“I’m not worrying about Hammerson or any other deal right now.”
“I know. With the start of the season coming up you have other things on your mind. And I know you wanted to keep a low profile until the first race, but I think you need to get back out there to show people you’re not broken after what happened at the end of last year.”
My grip on my phone tightens as I grit my teeth.
“What happened last season is done. Over with. I’m not discussing it anymore.” I’m damn sure not about to talk about it in public either.
The bedroom door swings open and Alyssia comes out, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans with a long sweater. She comes to a sudden stop, her mouth forming a circle as if she hadn’t expected me to see me.
“I have to go.”
“Yeah, sure, listen. I’m in the city until Wednesday. We have a breakfast scheduled for Tuesday morning but—”
“Yeah, great. I’ll see you then,” I tell Norm, disconnecting the call.
“You’re here,” Alyssia says as I hang up, confirming my earlier thought.
“We have an appointment at ten.”
She nods. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to come.”
“Why would you assume that?”
She looks away, not answering.
“I don’t mind going alone. I can give you a call later to give you the results of the test.”
I search for the memory of what test she’s referring to. “The ultrasound?”
She nods. “And the blood test.” Her gaze drops to the floor at the corner of the room.
“Did the hospital recommend a blood test last night?” Alyssia didn’t tell me much about the doctor’s recommendations at the hospital, aside from making an appointment with her OB, and to get some rest.
Since I didn’t want to put too much strain on her once we arrived last night, I didn’t press for answers.
“You should sit down,” I say, taking her arm and leading her to the couch. “Shouldn’t be on your feet too long.”
She opens her mouth as if to respond but quickly closes it, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“The paternity test,” she finally answers.
It takes seconds before my mind processes what she’s said.
All that goes through my head are visions of needles plunging into Alyssia’s stomach, sticking the baby inside.
My eyes drop to her belly. She’s not yet showing at just over two months, but after last night’s scare—a suspected subchorionic hematoma—my body tenses.
Last night it took me hours to get to sleep. In addition to the discomfort of the couch, I spent an unnamed amount of time trying to wrap my head around the fact that I’m going to be a father.
I’m still working on it, but to help I ended up buying a few pregnancy and parenting books. I also looked up the term subchorionic hematoma. Short explanation: it’s a clot or bruising that forms in the uterine wall which can cause stomach cramping, bleeding, and in extreme cases, miscarriage.
There’s no definitive cause for why it develops.
Then there’s the risk associated with in-utero paternity tests. I didn’t spend much time looking those up, but I think they can be dangerous.
No way in hell I’m missing today’s appointment. I need to be there.
“No.”
Alyssia juts her head backward. “I didn’t ask a question.”
“I’m not missing today’s appointment. And aren’t those paternity tests dangerous?”
“It’s a simple blood test. It’ll give you the assurance I’m certain you’ll want once things progress … if things progress,” she mumbles the last part, before she begins massaging her left shoulder.
The image of the rose tattoo that resides on that shoulder flashes through my mind.
The way she closes in on herself, and avoids eye contact, bristles against some emotion inside of me.
“Do you think I don’t believe you?” I ask.
She shrugs, her eyes not meeting mine. “Why would you? You’re a hot shot racer of some kind.”
“Formula 1.”
She gives me a blank expression.
I’d already figured Alyssia has no idea what Formula 1 is.
Anyone who knows the sport even remotely would know my face.
Not to mention she was in a room full of F1 drivers last night and didn’t seem fazed.
Of course, most of the servers didn’t, but I did catch a few breaking their professional facade and admiringly watching some of us.
Not Alyssia.
I’ve dated women in the past who would pretend to not know what I do for a living, all for that charade to come tumbling down within a few weeks as they pleaded for tickets to my races for their friends and family.
Alyssia doesn’t strike me as that type.
“Right, that,” she says, pushing out a sigh. “This news was sprung on you last night, so I’m positive you’re not thinking correctly. Which is why I’ve already decided to get the test done. Once you have proof, you can give it some time to decide how you would like to proceed.”
She moves to take a step out of the hallway, but I crowd her space.
“In my line of work, I’m tasked with making split second decisions,” I say, my words finally bringing her gaze up to meet mine. “Each year my team puts millions of dollars on the line, hires hundreds of engineers, strategists, and mechanics all tasked with analyzing countless pieces of data.”
The more I speak, the more her face crumples in confusion.
“They’re all more educated than me in their specific field, and they get paid a lot of money to make the right call when everything is on the line. But at the end of the day, the person with their foot on the throttle is me,” I explain.
“What are you talking about?” Alyssia asks.
“I listen to their expertise, get their opinion, and defer to their decision-making abilities on many occasions, but often I’m left to rely on only one thing. My instincts. I’ve learned to trust my instincts when it comes to important calls, Alyssia.”
My stomach muscles clench when I recall the wrong call I made last season. The one that cost me the final race. I’ve warred with myself over the past month and a half over who’s fault my loss was.
It was mine.
Which is why I won’t be making the same mistake now. I’m going with my instincts.
“I explained my intentions last night.” My voice comes out grim, darker than I’d planned. I don’t like being second guessed. “I don’t need to figure out how I’m going to proceed because I’ve already decided. As long as you’re carrying my baby, I’m not going anywhere.”
Alyssia drops her head, then looks back up at me, blinking.
“Has anyone ever told you that you’re intense?”
My lips spread into a sideways grin. I don’t miss the way she watches my mouth.
“Only everyone I know.”
“I bet—” She breaks off when the door abruptly opens and a tall brunette dressed in leather pants, heels, and a mesh top stumbles in the door.
“Oh,” the woman says when she sees Alyssia and me.
“This is my roommate, Gina.” Alyssia moves between me and the woman.
A frown now surfaces as I recall that Alyssia shouldn’t be on her damn feet.
I extend my hand.
The roommate blinks, looks from Alyssia to me and back to her again. A smirk crosses her mouth. “It’s about time you got some. What’s it been? Two years?”
She looks at me. “Damn, you’re cute, too.”
“I’m Travis,” I say.
“Okay.” She shrugs and shakes my hand. “Hey, these were in the mailbox for you. Looks like another one of those grad school programs you’re always receiving information about and this one from your OB,” the roommate announces.
“Thank you.” Alyssia quickly snatches the papers and places them behind her back.
“Hope you weren’t thinking about grad school because you got laid off. Sounds like a good idea and all, but all that added debt, and you still have your half of the rent to pay. Hey, why did your OB send mail?”
Alyssia peers up at me.
“No reason,” she answers her roommate. “Listen—”
“What are you pregnant or something?” Gina asks off-handedly, sorting through her own mail.
The silence that falls over the room is the answer her roommate obviously intended to be a goofy joke.
My dislike for this woman started the moment she interrupted us. It mounts by the second.
I don’t give a shit that she lives here either. They don’t seem to be actual friends.
“No freaking way! First you get laid off and now you’re pregnant. I’m not paying for the increased rent for a third tenant. And you know I’m a sensitive sleeper. I cannot live with a baby. I—”
“Won’t have to worry about it,” I say.
“I won’t?”
“She won’t?”
She and Alyssia reply at the same time.
“Looks like you’ve been out all night,” I reply to Gina, giving her the last moments of my attention I plan on sparing her. “We need some privacy.”
Her mouth opens and closes a few times, and she tries to look at Alyssia, but I don’t budge. Yeah, this might be her apartment, but Alyssia is now my business.
Once the roommate leaves, I turn back to Alyssia. “Breakfast will be here in about ten minutes.”
She raises an eyebrow.
“And my driver will be here in thirty to take us to our doctor’s appointment.”