Chapter 14
SEBASTIAN
It’s only ten, and I’m already in a bad mood. That’s not necessarily unusual, since I haven’t been in a good mood in days. Today is just not a great time to be dealing with the dark cloud hanging over my head.
I’ve got a security meeting at one, lunch with a hotel investor at two, and an accountant upstairs waiting to walk me through his less-than-honest books. Meanwhile, I’m distracted again thinking about Valentina. Incredibly inconvenient.
Six weeks have passed. The gala is settled. I’ve had every practical reason to put it behind me and move on. Instead, I catch myself replaying that night, wondering if I could have done or said something differently to make her come back for more.
I’m staring out the window over the LA skyline, lost in thought, when my assistant buzzes me.
“There’s someone here to see you.”
“I have a meeting in fifteen minutes.”
“That’s what I told her, but she insisted.”
That gets my attention.
“Who is it?”
“Valentina Moretti.”
Everything in me goes still.
For half a second, I think I misheard her. Valentina showing up here without warning, after weeks of careful distance and sterile emails, makes no sense at all.
“Send her in.”
I don’t move from the window right away. The door opens behind me, and when I turn, I know immediately that something is wrong.
She looks more tired than I’ve ever seen her, and frail somehow. Her skin is pale, dark circles under her eyes not quite concealed by makeup. Her mouth is set too firmly. Her shoulders are tight, her whole body braced like she’s walking into a fight.
“Hi,” I say lamely, because even tired, she’s stunningly beautiful.
She closes the door behind her and says, “I don’t have a lot of time.”
I gesture toward the chairs. “Have a seat.”
“I’d really prefer to stand,” she says tightly, wringing her hands.
She takes a deep breath, steeling herself, and then says two words that I wouldn’t have expected in a hundred years.
“I’m pregnant.”
All the air gets sucked out of the room. I try to catch up, to process, to make sense of what she just said, but none of it lands right. I must have heard her wrong.
“The baby is yours, obviously,” she continues, looking grim.
She’s pregnant. With my baby. Fuck. I exhale slowly and sink into one of the chairs because my legs suddenly feel weak. I rack my brain for words. I have to say something. Anything.
“When did you find out?” I ask.
Her expression hardens immediately. I’ve said the wrong thing somehow, but I can’t figure out how. It’s a reasonable question.
“Wow,” she says flatly. “Really?”
“What exactly do you want me to say, Val?” I ask, my composure cracking. “Congratulations? Condolences? Tell me what the right reaction is here.”
My words come out sharper than I intend, but I think I have every right to be pissed. She completely ghosted me after the gala. She clearly wanted nothing to do with me then, so what does she want from me now?
“I literally found out yesterday,” she says tightly, and without looking I can tell that she’s on the verge of tears. “So don’t start in with some accusatory bullshit.”
“I wasn’t accusing you of anything, Valentina,” I respond, just as tight. “It was a simple question. You don’t need to be so defensive. I’m just trying to understand the situation.”
“The situation,” she repeats. “What a comforting way to phrase it.”
I drag a hand over my jaw. I can feel this going wrong in a million different ways.
“Have you been to a doctor?”
That, apparently, is the second worst thing I could ask her. Ding, ding, ding, my prize is her fury.
Her eyes flash. “Excuse me?”
“I just wanted to know how sure you are,” I say patiently.
“No, I haven’t been to a doctor yet,” she spits out. “I took three tests and they were all conclusive.”
I nod.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Okay. Have you decided if you’re going to keep it?”
She turns toward the door like she’s about to walk out on our conversation.
“Val,” I say, rising and going after her. She wheels on me when I gently catch her arm, and I could wither under that stare. “You clearly came here to talk about this, so let’s talk. You can’t be mad every time I ask a simple question.”
“You don’t get to control this,” she hisses. “It’s my body and my baby. I came to tell you as a courtesy, but I knew this was a mistake.”
I feel like I’ve been slapped, so I take a step back. It dawns on me how little we actually know about each other, and I remember Nico’s words. A bad breakup. He wasn’t a good guy. Jesus Christ, he must have been a monster if this is how defensive she gets over a few simple questions.
I put my hands up in surrender and take another step back, giving her space.
“Can we start this conversation over?” I ask carefully. “You tell me what you want me to say, and I’ll say it.”
She looks at me like she can’t decide whether I’m being insulting or sincere.
“This was a mistake,” she repeats in a kind of whisper. “I never should have come here. I never should have slept with you in the first place.”
That stings.
“Val, slow down,” I say gently, hoping my tone doesn’t come off condescending. “Let’s just talk this out. You’re pregnant. It’s my baby. Like it or not, we’re in this together, so let’s make a plan.”
“No,” she yelps like she’s been stung. “I don’t want to plan anything with you! That’s not why I came here.”
I groan in frustration. “Then why come at all?” I bark. “What’s the point of this? It could have been a text.”
“Would you really want this news over text?”
“No, Val. I would want you to not ghost me for over a month. I would want you to pretend, even for a second, that that night actually meant something to you. This shouldn’t be our first communication in six weeks, but that was your decision. I’m just along for the ride.”
“That’s not fair,” she accuses. “You knew how I felt. You knew I didn’t want anything serious to come from that night.”
“Great job, Val,” I answer sarcastically. “Looks like you really fucked that up.”
“It wasn’t my decision not to wear a condom!” she shouts.
“Don’t do that. Don’t act like I had some master plan. We were both caught up that night. You didn’t tell me you weren’t on birth control.”
“I am on birth control!” she nearly screeches. “That’s what makes this all so much more fucked up.”
Nico steps in mid-sentence, tablet in hand, his face even paler than his sister’s. No need to ask what he’s heard, because it’s clear he heard enough.
His eyes move from me to Valentina and back. They narrow at me, and I can almost see the pieces clicking into place. His gaze flashes with anger.
“Please tell me you two aren’t that goddamn stupid,” he says tightly.
Val turns on him, not realizing he’d walked in, and her whole body goes still. No matter how she wanted this to go with me, she definitely wasn’t ready for him to be part of it, and that’s obvious in her posture.
“Nico—” she starts, but he puts his hand up.
“No way,” he says sharply. “No way you two slept together other behind my back. You wouldn’t do that to me.”
Val looks between us, and the tears that threatened to fall earlier finally break the surface.
“It was one time,” she says weakly.
“I don’t care how many times it was,” he seethes. “Once was enough. I trusted you,” he says to me. “I told you to be careful with her, and you did exactly what I told you not to do.”
“Hold on,” Val says, and I can already hear her ramping up for another fight. “What makes you think you have the right to dictate who I do and don’t sleep with?”
Nico goes completely still, and he has the good grace to look sheepish. “I wasn’t…” he stutters. “That’s not…”
“Jesus Christ, you’re both the biggest assholes I’ve ever met,” she growls in frustration.
“This is a thing he does,” Nico deflects. “He always sleeps with the event planners before the gala. It’s why he never uses the same person twice.”
Fuck. Val turns back to me with hatred in her eyes, and there’s not enough time in the world to explain that it wasn’t like that. She’s not just another notch on my belt. But she’ll never give me the time of day again.
“You’re un-fucking-believable,” she hisses. “Here you are, trying to make me feel bad for never calling you back, and this is just your fucking move. Have the life you deserve.”
At this, she finally does storm out. I’d follow her if Nico weren’t there, blocking my way.
“What the fuck were you thinking?” he asks, challenging me in a way he never has before. I deserve it, and that’s why I let him.
“It wasn’t like that,” I say honestly. “I like her, Nico. I fought it for your sake, but—”
“But nothing,” he spits, curling his upper lip. I’ve never seen him this angry. “You didn’t just fuck my sister behind my back, you ruined her life. Fix this.”
“I want to!” I fire back. “You saw how she reacted. She’s not exactly making it easy.”
“Good,” he sneers. “You need to work for it. You’ve got to find a way to make this right by her, and you need to make this right by me.”
He doesn’t let me respond before he, too, turns on his heel and storms out. I can’t help wondering if the temper is a family trait. It would be funny if the situation weren’t so fucked up.
Once they’re gone, my ears ring from the silence. This is a goddamn disaster. So much for sparing my best friend’s feelings. Not to mention, like it or not, Val and I are tied to each other for the rest of our lives if she decides to keep the baby.
We all just need a minute to calm down. They’ll both take a beat, and then we can talk about this like rational adults, and everything will be fine.
I hope.
Otherwise, I’ve lost my best friend and the woman I’ve been obsessing over, all in one fell swoop.