The Wedding Lullaby Page 7

  Different time. Different situation. Yet…

  She’d made him feel so wonderful in Reno. Her innocence, eagerness, and curiosity had turned him on.

  “I was wondering,” she said slowly.

  Brett’s pulse picked up speed. His physical reaction was insane considering the circumstances, but he couldn’t help himself. His hands moved up her calf once again. “What?”

  Raising her head, she opened her eyes. “Is it true you need to pay the first and last month’s rent when you lease an apartment?”

  His hands froze. “Huh?”

  “I need to know how much money I’ll need to rent a place.”

  A bucket of ice water might as well have been dumped over him.

  No problem. He lifted his hands from her skin. There would be time for more touching once they were married. He wouldn’t be able to settle for a marriage in name only. Not with a woman like Laurel Worthington.

  “Some landlords require first and last month, as well as a security deposit,” he explained. “What did you do in Chicago?”

  “After I graduated from college, I picked the condo I wanted, then my father took care of the rest. From the time I was little, he told me I had better things to do than waste my time and pretty head worrying about money.” She frowned. “He handled my finances—bills, insurance, you name it. He even picked out my future husband. I dutifully became engaged to a man I didn’t love because I was told to. If one good thing came from losing everything, it was that we broke up.”

  Henry Davenport had mentioned her engagement being called off before the April Fools’ bash in Reno, but Brett hadn’t asked for more details. He wanted to know now. Badly.

  “Big mistake, giving my father control of everything,” she added before Brett could ask any questions. “But I can’t blame him completely. I was stupid and naïve. I did whatever he said, and I trusted him.”

  “You didn’t know better.” She was taking too much of the blame in Brett’s opinion. “You were young. Still are.”

  “Thanks, but I’m not a kid anymore. I should have been more involved, but I never gave a second thought to what he did. I never asked to see any statements, any receipts, anything. And to think I wasn’t the only one.”

  “Your mother?” Brett asked.

  Laurel nodded. “Several of my father’s friends, too.”

  Brett’s jaw dropped. “Why would they trust your father with their money?”

  “He dreams big and schemes even bigger—sweet-talked others into believing his hype, too. My father got lucky with a few investments, but he didn’t know when to stop. He didn’t understand the definition of risk. I guess I didn’t, either.”

  Speaking of which, Brett had reviewed her employment paperwork. Her ultraconservative asset allocation for her retirement plan had raised a red flag. “Is that why you selected bond funds for your 401k?”

  She nodded. “They have the lowest risk factor besides money markets.”

  “That means a lower return.” Having this conversation with her would be meaningless in the long run, but he couldn’t help himself. Investing was in his blood; it was his life. He couldn’t let her waste one day of potential gain. “You’re only twenty-four.”

  “I turned twenty-five on July fourth.”

  He hadn’t known her birthday, but he remembered how Henry had invited others who had holiday birthdays like him. Brett’s was on Valentine’s Day, but she most likely didn’t know that. Yet they were having a baby together. “Either way, you’re young and investing for the long term. You can afford to ride out market swings.”

  “I know you wrote a book for people like me, but I’m finished taking chances. I’m tired of uncertainties. I want only guarantees from now on.”

  “If only life were that simple…” Age-wise, only seven years separated them, yet he felt much older than her. “But…”

  The word died on his lips. Showing Laurel she wasn’t cut out for the working world so she would marry him wasn’t much different from what her father had done to her. A lump of guilt lodged in Brett’s throat.

  But what was he supposed to do?

  Marriage was the best solution—the most practical solution—for everyone involved. Nothing else would give their child the family and stability he or she deserved.

  Laurel stared at the fireplace, her gaze unfocused. “Sometimes I wish…”

  Her wistful tone made him lean toward her. “What?”

  “That I could do it all over again. Change the past.”

  He’d been there himself. More times than he liked to remember. “We all do.”

  “Even you?”

  “Yes.” Brett couldn’t understand why he was opening up to her. He never talked about himself, not even to Henry, his nemesis and oldest friend. Brett shouldn’t be saying anything to Laurel, either. “But we can’t change what’s happened.”

  “The past is the past.” As she gazed up at him, she patted her belly. “Besides, I can’t forget what’s most important now.”

  He lowered his gaze to her stomach. “Neither can I.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next morning, Laurel should have stayed in bed. If she had, she wouldn’t be sitting across the desk from her glaring boss and in big trouble.

  Laurel, however, had gotten up because no matter how tired she might have been, she didn’t have a choice. Earning money for her and her baby’s future was her priority. If only she weren’t doing such a lousy job.

  “What were you thinking?” Danielle demanded, her face flushed. “Couldn’t you tell the difference between a color toner cartridge and a regular one?”

  Laurel sat on the opposite side of the desk, but the entire Pacific Ocean might as well have separated them. She went to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear until she remembered the dark toner covering her hands. Dirty hands were the least of her problems, but she’d still rather not have more evidence of her ineptitude on display. “I was trying to help.”

  “Explain that to Brett when I tell him what happened.” Danielle slammed her palms against the desk. “He’s going to be upset when he finds out the graphics for the reports were ruined.”

  Laurel would be fired. No question about that. Not that she deserved anything less. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry doesn’t cut it. Those reports are for our VIP clients. They’re supposed to be mailed today.”

  “I…” At her boss’s icy gaze, Laurel stared at the desk with a miniature slot machine sitting near the monitor. Nothing more than a memento of a trip or perhaps a gift, but memories of Reno—happy, sad, and those in between—crashed into her like a bullet train. The oxygen-infused casino air smelling like cigarette smoke and spilled alcohol. The melancholy melody from the piano bar. The flashing lights and clinking of coins at the slot machines.

  A lump burned in her throat, and tears stung her eyes.

  Not now, please not now.

  Laurel blinked, but that didn’t help. Emotion threatened to overwhelm her. Tears streamed down her face as if a levee had given way during a torrential downpour. She rose. “Please excuse me.”

  She walked briskly to the bathroom, entered, and stood at one of the sinks. After a minute, the door swished opened. A tissue appeared over her shoulder.

  “Laurel?” Danielle asked. “Are you okay?”

  No, Laurel wasn’t okay. She was incompetent, and everyone at MGI would know it.

  “Hey, no one’s perfect. We all screw up now and then.” Danielle plucked another tissue. “I’m sorry if I came down on you too hard.”

  “That’s not why…” Laurel tasted the salt from her warm tears. Oh, why couldn’t she stop crying? She’d vowed never to cry again. Then to do so at work—on her second day on the job. Pathetic.

  “What’s wrong?” Danielle asked.

  “It’s…complicated.”

  The door to the restroom opened again. The reflection of two women appeared. Lauren dropped her gaze, but not before one, a beautiful Asian woman with waist-lengt
h black hair, caught a glimpse of her. “Hey, why all the tears?”

  “It’s complicated, CeCe,” Danielle said.

  The other woman, a brunette, stepped forward and touched Laurel’s shoulder. “I’m Sarah, and this is Celia.”

  Celia smiled. “Friends call me CeCe.”

  “Anything we can do to help?” Sarah asked.

  “I—I—I don’t know.” Laurel hiccupped. “I’m usually not this…this emotional.”

  “We’ve all been there.” CeCe grabbed the entire box of tissues off the counter. “Why don’t you tell us what’s wrong?”

  “That sounds like a good idea,” Sarah said encouragingly.

  Danielle stared at Laurel. “It’s up to you.”

  The concern in the women’s eyes, especially Danielle’s, was clear, but they were strangers. Coworkers, yes, but Laurel didn’t know them. She hadn’t told her closest friends what was going on. Not that any of those people had truly been her friends, as she’d learned the hard way.

  Sarah must have taken her hesitation as a yes. Laurel found herself sitting in the lounge area of the ladies’ room, where two loveseats faced each other.

  “So, what’s going on?” Sarah asked.

  Laurel doubted Brett would want their personal business aired in front of his employees. “I’m not sure saying anything is a good idea.”

  “We won’t say a word,” CeCe pledged. “Will we, ladies?”

  The other two nodded their agreement.

  Laurel hadn’t talked to anyone in so long, unless she counted the baby. Not even her mother could look beyond her own pathetic situation to listen to her daughter’s problems. Laurel was lonely. Scared, too. Maybe if she kept Brett out of this. “I don’t know where to start.”

  “How about what made you cry?” CeCe suggested.

  “I made her cry,” Danielle admitted.

  “You didn’t,” Laurel said. “The slot machine on your desk did.”

  Sarah drew her brows together. “Why?”

  “It reminded me of Reno.”

  “Reno?” all three asked at the same time.

  Laurel wiped her eyes. “That’s where I…got pregnant.”

  Their jaws dropped.

  Laurel hadn’t meant to shock them, but saying the words aloud was a relief.

  “You’re pregnant?” Danielle asked.

  Laurel nodded.

  “What about the baby’s father?” Sarah asked.

  Laurel had to keep Brett out of this. “He wants to get married, but I said no.”

  Danielle opened her mouth but then closed it. She eyed Laurel. Had she figured out the truth about Brett and the baby?

  Sarah’s eyes darkened. “Why did you say no?”

  “We’re not in love.” Laurel had probably said too much. “I’d rather not talk about that.”

  “You don’t have to,” Danielle said.

  CeCe nodded. “But we’re here to listen if you do.”

  Laurel should press her lips together and return to her boss’s desk, except she wanted to say more. “It’s just…”

  The three women leaned toward her.

  “I’m not only pregnant but broke, too.” A tear slipped down her face, followed by another and another. “I don’t want a handout. I came to Portland for a job, but I’ve messed that up. I didn’t think my life could get any worse than being homeless in Chicago, but it has.”

  Laurel’s cheeks burned. She couldn’t believe she’d spilled her guts to three coworkers, two she’d just met.

  CeCe pursed her lips. “You were homeless?”

  “Before I came to Portland,” she admitted. “I liquidated everything I owned to avoid bankruptcy, so I could pay off the bills my father racked up before he ran away with his nineteen-year-old lover and what was left of my trust fund.”

  Danielle’s forehead creased. “What about your friends?”

  Laurel blinked to keep the tears away. “When my friends learned about my new financial situation…they changed. Do you know what it’s like to be out to dinner, only to have your credit card cut in half in front of everyone?”

  CeCe nodded. “That happened to me once. Talk about embarrassing.”

  Laurel took a small amount of comfort in not being the only one. “All but a couple of my friends stopped returning my calls and texts. No one invited me over. I see now they weren’t really my friends. I shouldn’t have been that surprised given my fiancé was the first to dump me.”

  “You were engaged?” Sarah asked.

  Engaged didn’t seem like the accurate term for her and Charles. “My ex was more interested in my money and family name than me. When I told him what was happening, he demanded I return his engagement ring. The only thing he didn’t do was tell the others, but that’s most likely due to how my being broke and scandal-ridden would reflect on him.”

  “That’s brutal,” Danielle said. “He didn’t deserve you.”

  The other women nodded.

  “Thanks, but if Charles saw me now, he’d be more than relieved he broke up with me when he did. Not that I care what he thinks. The only thing I care about is the baby growing inside of me. That’s the most important thing in my world.”

  “I know how you feel.” Understanding shone in Sarah’s gaze. “I’m a single mom, too. I’ll be honest. Life can be a struggle, but every second of strife is worth it when you hold your baby in your arms.”

  Laurel sighed at the thought of cuddling her own little bundle of joy. “I’m sure it is, but I’m worried about how I’m going to provide for a child. I assumed I’d get married and be a stay-at-home mom. I never learned how to handle money. I’ve never balanced a checkbook. Not that it matters since I don’t have a checking account.”

  “You need a checking account if you want to direct deposit your paycheck,” CeCe said.

  Laurel raised her toner-dyed hands in the air. “I don’t think I’ll be getting a paycheck once Brett learns—”

  “You’ll find another job,” Danielle said.

  “Why do you need another job?” CeCe asked.

  “I ruined the graphics for an important report,” Laurel admitted.

  “You won’t be fired for that.” CeCe glanced at Danielle, who hung her head with an I-don’t-know-what-he-might-do look.

  Sarah patted Laurel’s arm. “If that happens, we’ll help you find a new job.”

  “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure who else would be willing to hire an unskilled worker who’ll need maternity leave at the end of the year.”

  “It’s against the law to discriminate against pregnancy, but your resume could use some…developing. Still, everyone deserves a chance.” Determination gleamed in Danielle’s eyes. “Between the four of us, we’ll figure something out. But first…we need to get the toner off your hands.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Where could Laurel be? Brett paced the length of the family room. Dinner with coworkers had sounded innocent enough, especially with Danielle going. A little outside-the-company-walls maneuvering by his faithful assistant would help Laurel realize quitting was the best option. But he hadn’t expected her to be out past eight o’clock. It was almost nine.

  Not only was Brett worried, but he was also disappointed. He’d had a gift express delivered from Cara, the book concierge at Cassandra’s Attic. He hoped the small gesture would show Laurel they could be partners in this thing called parenthood.

  If only she would come home…

  Being alone in this big, empty house didn’t appeal to him the way it had before Laurel arrived. Ordering pizza and watching a baseball game hadn’t made a difference.

  What was wrong with him?

  He had the perfect life. More money than he could spend, a house in a desirable area, and a thriving company. But sitting on the couch last night, rubbing Laurel’s feet, had felt so good. Better than it should have, considering he and Laurel shared nothing except the bond of their baby. But they could have more if she gave him the chance to prove they could be a famil
y.

  The doorbell rang.

  She’s home.

  Brett forced himself not to run. He took his time reaching the foyer and opening the door. The sight of Laurel brought instant relief.

  “Hi.” She sounded more chipper than he’d expected, considering the hour.

  “Hi, yourself.”

  As she stepped inside, a horn honked. Laurel waved at the idling car. “Alex drove me home.”

  Brett’s stomach clenched. “Alex Niles?”

  She removed her purse from her shoulder. “Yes, he seems to be quite the ladies’ man.”

  One of MGI’s rising stars, Alex Niles was a young hotshot. “Handsome as sin,” according to Danielle, and the last person Brett wanted Laurel spending time with.

  “I thought you were having dinner with Danielle and CeCe.”

  “And Sarah,” Laurel said. “Alex helped us…pick a restaurant. He was working late, so we invited him to join us. He offered to drive me home.”

  Of course he did. Brett needed to tell the guy, without attracting too much attention, to stay away from Laurel.

  She didn’t appear as tired as last night. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good or a bad thing. “Today must have gone better than yesterday.”

  She shrugged. “You could say that.”

  Her voice sounded off. “Did something happen?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “No reason.” Something didn’t feel right. But he couldn’t trust his instincts where Laurel was concerned. “Was dinner good?”

  “Oh, yes.” Laurel set her purse on the kitchen counter and then headed to the sofa. “I made new friends today, too.”

  “Good.” Except Brett’s concern rose. He wanted Laurel to think of MGI as a place to avoid, not where she’d make friends and have fun. “You don’t want to overdo it.”

  “I won’t.”

  ♥ ♥ ♥

  Walking into the family room, Laurel tried not to yawn. Staying at work tonight had been a necessity. Thanks to Danielle, CeCe, Sarah, and Alex, Brett would never know about the broken color copier and the hundreds of reports they’d redone before dinner. Her coworkers had sworn their secrecy, bought her pizza, and saved her job.