Chapter 8
CHELSEA
The following morning, as the two of them made their way down the hall of the hospital, Chelsea found herself wishing she hadn’t agreed so easily to Miles’s request.
Her heart beat madly against her ribs as he pressed the button that would take the elevator to the very top floor.
He’d prepared her a little, letting her know that his father was housed in a private suite.
He had seemed to think that would be reassuring.
“You won’t have to deal with people rushing in and out all the time, and the hustle and bustle of a busy hospital,” he’d told her. “That will make things easier, right?”
No, it wouldn’t. That would mean Miles’s father would have nothing to focus on but her, nothing to think about but the surprise of finding his son in a relationship and expecting a child out of nowhere.
Not to mention that I’ll be lying to the man — about everything.
Not only was she not romantically involved with Miles, she also wasn’t carrying his baby yet.
And she might never be. Though Miles had the resources to go through the fertility procedures as many times as it took, Chelsea had developed a horrible fear that her body might let them down.
What if she never got pregnant? Eventually, Miles would have to move on to someone else.
The feeling she’d had the day she had met him, the sense that she was running short on time, was more powerful than ever.
Chelsea wasn’t old, but she certainly wasn’t getting any younger, and if she didn’t get pregnant easily, he might give up on her.
Well, in that case, she told herself firmly, maybe it’s good that I’m meeting his father now.
It’s an insurance policy. That will give Miles an incentive to stick with me if things don’t work right away.
His father will already believe I’m carrying his child, and that’ll make it awfully hard for him to write me out of the story.
She turned to face him. “So, you said your father had a stroke?”
“Yes, he’s doing a lot better than he was at first. I was here early this morning.
I told him you would be coming to meet him — he’s excited about that.
He’s able to communicate pretty well now.
He’s slurring his words a little, but his memory is intact,” Miles smiled fondly.
“He’s as sharp as he ever was. I was afraid for a minute there…
but he’s himself, and he’ll be able to talk to us. I know he’s eager to meet you.”
Chelsea nodded slowly. “I’m glad he’s doing better,” she said sincerely.
She was glad. It was awful to think of someone suffering.
But the fact that he was alert and would be able to ask questions did make her job here a little bit harder.
She would have to face those questions. She would have to satisfy his curiosity about her — and who knew what kinds of things he would want to know?
We should have planned a story together. We should have thought through what we were going to tell him.
Too late now. The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival at the top floor of the hospital, and the doors slid open.
Chelsea determined to follow Miles’s lead.
This had been his idea, so he would have to manage things.
He could handle that. She would just keep quiet and agree with everything he said, and that would have to be good enough.
The hospital suite turned out to be a vast, sprawling affair that reminded Chelsea more of a hotel room than a hospital.
The only thing that broke the illusion was the presence of a medical bed in the center of the room — though this had been spruced up with the addition of blankets that were obviously Silas Aspin’s personal property, brought from home — and a couple of machines tracking vital signs.
She had seen Silas Aspin’s photo before, of course, in various news publications.
He was one of the most famous faces in America.
But she had never really thought about him.
To Chelsea, he had been like the star of a movie she was never going to see.
Famous, yes, and a name she knew, but not someone she spent any time thinking about.
And now he’s going to be the grandfather of my child.
The man lying in the bed looked different from the man whose face was plastered on magazines and internet articles. He was paler and skinnier. He looked older. How much of this was his illness, and how much had to do with photo editing? She couldn’t be sure.
He also wore striped pajamas, which was disorienting. At least he wasn’t in a hospital gown. That would have been downright awkward.
As they walked in, Miles reached out and took Chelsea’s hand.
That could have been awkward too, but she found that she needed something to hold on to as she approached the old man’s bed.
Miles’s big, steady hand was a comfort to her.
He was doing this in order to put on a show for his father, she knew, but that was a show she was willing to play a part in.
They stopped beside the bed, where Silas sat propped up against a few pillows.
His smile was uneven. She could see that he had lost some muscle control in his face, and when he spoke, she was glad that Miles had prepared her for the slur in his speech. “So, you’re the young woman my son has fallen in love with.”
It was a good thing Chelsea was a teacher.
Dealing with children — and their parents — had taught her the skill of smiling convincingly when she didn’t necessarily feel like it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Aspin,” she said, intentionally not addressing the question of who was in love with whom.
“I was so sorry to hear about your illness.”
“I’ll be out of here in no time,” Silas waved his hand dismissively. “That pretty nurse was by again about an hour ago, Miles, and she said they’ll be ready to spring me within a couple of days.”
Miles frowned. “Are you sure, Dad? You could have died, you know. You shouldn’t try to hurry home. I know you don’t love it here, but we need to make sure you’re all right before we rush anything.”
“My son worries too much,” Silas said to Chelsea. “But I’m sure you know that about him already, don’t you?”
Chelsea couldn’t honestly say she had ever experienced anything of the kind. “He cares for you a great deal,” she said. That was a fact she felt confident was true. “He wants you to take good care of yourself.”
“Well, he’s a good son,” Silas said with a smile. Despite the lop-sided twist of his mouth, it was heartfelt and genuine. “I’m sure he’ll raise your son or daughter to be the same sort of person. Have you talked much about that yet? How you’ll raise the baby together?” His eyes cut to her stomach.
Guilt swarmed Chelsea. She had thought of Silas Aspin as a famous figurehead, not as a person. But he was just a man, a frail man who loved his son and clearly felt joy at the prospect of his family getting bigger. And she was lying to him.
I have to do it. It’s the only way to move forward with our plan.
He needs to think that Miles and I are in love so I can be confident Miles will commit to doing this with me.
And if all goes well and we all play our parts the way we should, everyone will be happy in the end.
I’ll have the child I want, and Silas will have his grandchild.
It won’t really matter that we were dishonest about the details.
“We haven’t had a chance to discuss it much,” Miles said. “There’s a lot to talk about. But the baby was a surprise to us, as you know, Dad. We’re excited, but we haven’t made many plans.”
“Make sure you do that soon,” Silas looked intently at Miles. “This time passes before you know it, Miles. That baby will be here so soon, even though right now it might feel a long way off… I hope you two have started thinking of names.”
“We aren’t going to name the baby Silas Jr.,” Miles said, a broad smile crossing his face.
“But it’s such a fine name,” his father laughed. “Chelsea, you’d consider it, wouldn’t you?”
“I would, actually,” Chelsea chuckled. She was telling the truth.
Silas was a nice name, and she had no objection to recognizing the baby’s grandfather.
Besides, there would be no grandfather on her side thanks to her father’s lack of involvement in her life.
All of the baby’s male role models would have to come from the father’s side of the family.
It was as good a reason as any to pay tribute to Silas when choosing a name.
“I knew I liked her,” Silas grinned. “I can tell very quickly about people, Chelsea. That’s a skill you need in the business world. I knew I liked you the moment you walked in here. You’re a good, wholesome, honest young woman. Perfect for my son, I think.”
She could see Miles watching her out of the corner of his eye. What did he make of his father’s assessment?
I’m not exactly being honest right now.
But that was a pretty fair assessment of her character generally. Maybe he had seen something in her, despite the fact that she was lying to him at the moment. Maybe he could see the fact that she was here for a good reason.
At any rate, Silas’s affection for her could only be a good thing. She glanced at Miles, “I hope he feels the same way.” That was certainly true. The more Miles liked her, the better her situation would be.
“We can’t stay long, Dad,” Miles said. “Visiting hours are almost over for the day, and you know how your nurse gets about it.”
“She thinks I’m going to break hospital policy because of who I am,” Silas said, winking at Chelsea with his good eye.
“But I think I should be allowed to break hospital policy anyway. Not because I’m the founder of Gold Standard, but because I’m an old man.
Everyone my age should have their own special rules. Don’t you agree?”
Chelsea decided she liked Silas. “I do agree,” she said, smiling at him.
“Ah Chelsea, you’re a winner.” Silas closed his eyes and tipped his head back. She could tell he was exhausted. “Will I see you again soon?”
“I’ll bring her, Dad,” Miles said. “I know you’re going to want to get to know her better over the coming months.”
“Well, hopefully the next time we see one another I’ll be back at home,” Silas said. “I do look forward to meeting you properly, Chelsea. When I’m not in my pajamas, I mean.”
Chelsea let out a laugh. “I’ll look forward to that too. I hope you feel better soon, Mr. Aspin.”
“No, no, call me Silas,” he said. “We’re family now, after all.” His eyes twinkled at her.
She had been calling him Silas in her thoughts already, so it was good to have permission to say it out loud. “Goodbye, Silas.”
She followed Miles out into the hall. He pressed the button to call the elevator. Once they were on board and gliding back down toward the ground floor, he looked over at her. “So, that wasn’t that bad, right?”
“Not bad at all,” she agreed. “He’s a very kind person. He isn’t what I expected, though.”
“You expected the shrewd businessman who built his empire from the ground up,” Miles guessed.
“Well, yes.” The elevator doors opened on the ground floor and they started toward the parking lot.
“If you’d met him a few years ago, that’s who you would have found,” Miles said. “But he’s changed. I’m not sure what to make of it, but he’s not the same man he was a few years ago. This cheerful, smiling, laughing person… this is new.”
He glanced at Chelsea. “He liked you, though,” he said, and there was real warmth in his voice. “I can tell. He thought you were great, Chelsea. I think this is really going to work.” Chelsea hoped he was right.