Billionaire Retreat Page 5

  I then heard footsteps behind me. It was Jackson. Again.

  “I’m fine. Go away.”

  “It’s my brother. I have him on the phone, he wants to speak to you.”

  “Tell him to go screw himself.”

  He handed me his phone and I don’t know what got into me, but I threw it. Straight into the bushes.

  “Hey! I just bought that.”

  “Well, now you can buy another. Have a great wedding, Jackson.”

  I left him walking through the bushes trying to retrieve his phone. I didn’t feel sorry in the least. He might have lost a phone that day, but I had lost my heart.

  A month and a half later, I sat on my mom’s front porch. She and my stepdad lived in a lovely neighborhood. I never really appreciated it until that moment.

  “This was a great place to be a kid,” I said to her, avoiding the conversation I knew she wanted to have.

  She had been the first one to notice the slight changes. After things went sour with Griffin I’d gone home to lick my wounds. I felt silly that a man could make me feel so bad. But he had.

  I told Kenny I’d be back shortly. But what was supposed to have been only a few weeks turned into over a month. I was depressed and feeling listless. I knew I needed to try harder to be more resilient, but I tended to give up on things easily.

  But I wouldn’t be allowed the luxury of that flaw anymore, I thought to myself, as I swung on the porch swing with Mom. In between us sat a little white plastic stick that told me I was pregnant.

  “You know you can stay here as long as you want.”

  I turned to look at her, full of love and gratitude. She was just an older version of me. We had the same color hair, the same color eyes… I briefly wondered if the child I was carrying would look like us too. But I couldn’t focus on such inconsequential things. I had to focus on what my mother was saying. I needed her now.

  Her words meant a lot to me. She didn’t care that I was having a kid out of wedlock, no matter how conservative a town we lived in. My mother was a special woman who made her own rules and one day I hoped to make her proud.

  “Thanks for that, Mom. I think I’ll need to take you up on that offer, at least until I get back on my feet.” I laughed bitterly. “Pregnant and unemployed at the ripe old age of 22. I sure know how to be successful, don’t I?”

  “Don’t beat yourself up. Life’s a whirlwind, Nina. You never know what it has in store for you. You just have to roll with the punches or at least fight back.”

  I needed to start learning how to fight. I had a lot to learn about life, about motherhood, and she was the best person I knew to teach me. I knew she’d be supportive of me, she always was. But part of me didn’t want her understanding. I wanted her to sound disappointed in me because I was disappointed in myself.

  A long moment passed and then she said, “Are you going to contact the father?”

  I nodded. “After the baby’s born. I don’t have the strength to really deal with it before then.”

  I didn’t know if I could handle Griffin’s rejection again. I wanted to focus on the child growing inside of me and I didn’t want to deal with the stress of Griffin’s reaction. Not that I could guess how he would react. I hadn’t guessed he’d leave me after making love to me.

  Truth be told, I didn’t even know how to contact him if I tried. My only contact with him had been on the island and we’d been too busy doing other things to ever exchange phone numbers. I didn’t even know his real name. I felt like such a cheap floozy. How could I not even know the name of the father of my child?

  “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” my mom said yet again. “You’ll do fine.”

  “I hope so. I have a great example.”

  She squeezed my hand and went back inside. I folded my arms around my waist, giving myself a hug. I heard footsteps behind me expecting mom again, but it was my stepdad.

  “How ya doing, angel?”

  I attempted to smile, but failed. I shrugged. “Not too great, Dad.”

  He nodded. “Well, you’re not going to feel any better moping around here. Let’s go build something.”

  “Let’s go build something” was his motto every time I felt like crap. I wanted to tell him no. I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t comfort me through this as he had comforted me through childhood troubles, but the words froze in my throat. Maybe I did need to distract myself.

  “Lead the way, Dad,” I said.

  He smiled up at me proudly and I followed him towards his work shed. As we went, I looked at my old swing that still sat in the backyard. I looked out over the hillside where I used to run after butterflies and suddenly the butterflies in my stomach stopped fluttering. I no longer felt sick to my stomach. Maybe it would all be ok. Maybe, just maybe, being a mom would be something I’m good at. I touched my stomach, this time seeing promise instead of failure.

  “Don’t worry little one, I won’t fail you.”

  I shrugged off my fear and made a commitment to myself and to my baby to succeed. I didn’t know how to define success, but for my baby I was going to make it.

  “I hope you’re ready for an adventure, little one.”

  I shoved my bitterness and resentment towards Griffin out of my head. I wasn’t going to dwell on the pain. After all, it was a one night stand. It wasn’t love. At least that’s what I was going to keep telling myself until the pain either subsided or life became too busy that I would just simply have to ignore it.

  Part 2

  Obstacles

  Chapter 5

  I looked at my belly in the mirror. I turned to the side and sighed and then turned back to the front. At three months along, I was barely showing, but my pants were uncomfortable around the waistband. I felt bloated all the time and had terrible heartburn. I ignored all that and made myself stop staring at my body in my bedroom mirror.

  I was still at my parents’ house. I’d been hiding with my tail between my legs for much too long and today was the day. I’d changed my mind about contacting Griffin. I’d done some legwork and found the contact information of Richard, the guy who’d hired me. I planned to call him today and inquire about Griffin. I wasn’t sure if legally he would be able to connect me with him, but I didn’t think it would hurt to try.

  I sat down on the edge of my bed, pushed the hair out of my face and made the call.

  “Hello, Island Associates, this is Lorelei. How can I help you?”

  “Hi, Lorelei. I’m actually trying to contact the guy who hired me. I was one of the entertainment specialists and just have a quick question for him.” That question being, can you tell me where my baby’s daddy is, I thought to myself.

  “That would be Mr. Hayes,” she replied happily.

  “Yes,” I said totally not knowing what I was talking about. I realized that up to that moment I hadn’t ever bothered to ask his full name. I guessed it was Richard Hayes.

  “I can see if he’s in. Can I ask who’s calling?”

  “Nina Charles.”

  “Nina Charles. Let me see if he’s in.”

  She put me on hold and for some reason, I was nervous. I didn’t even have time to analyze why when suddenly Lorelei was back.

  “Give me one second and I’ll transfer you.”

  “Oh! Thank you!”

  A second later, Richard greeted me warmly. “Nina! How are you? I wanted to reach out to you after your abrupt departure from the island, but I didn’t think a call from me would be appreciated.” He sounded nervous and I was confused as to why and then it hit me.

  “I’m not going to sue you or anything like that. Nothing happened out there that was lawsuit or criminal charges worthy, trust me.”

  He sighed. “I know, but I still feel guilty. I mean, I don’t know what exactly happened between you and Mr. Wallace, but I did feel partially responsible for your abrupt departure.”

  “You’re a nice guy, Mr. Hayes. I was actually calling to see if you could put me in touch with Mr. Wallace.”


  He coughed, startled. “I’m afraid not. We’re not allowed to give out any information about our guests.”

  “I figured as much.”

  “Yes, I’m sorry about that. I can’t give out his phone number or any contact information at all. I can’t even tell you that you can find him at the corporate headquarters in the Westmore building most weekends.”

  I smiled to myself and quickly reached for a pen.

  “I can’t tell you that if you go this weekend, you won’t have to worry about five different security guards finding you. In fact, the only guard you’ll have to worry about is Cliff. Tell him that you’re there to see Griff and that Richard sent you.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  “Don’t worry about it. Go get him. Good luck, Nina.”

  We said our goodbyes and hung up. I stared at the information in my hand and then decisively reached for my computer. Less than ten minutes later, I was scheduled for a flight back to L.A.

  I stood up and planted my hands on my waist, feeling in control of my life for the first time since I found out I was pregnant. And then I promptly dropped my hands as a bout of nausea hit me that could only mean one thing: it was time to hug the toilet bowl again. So maybe I wasn’t in complete control of my life yet.

  *

  A few days later, I caught a ride straight from the airport to the Westmore Building. It was an impressive skyscraper that was ultra-modern and ultra-chic.

  I nervously walked in and was surprised to see so many people working. I scanned the lobby for the security guard, Cliff, expecting a 60-year-old man with a potbelly and a sour demeanor.

  I was so wrong.

  Cliff was tall and willowy and looked to be maybe 20 at most. He saw me and gave me a wave.

  “Are you Nina?”

  “Mr. Hayes, err Richard, told you I was coming, I see.”

  “Yep. Are you a gamer too?”

  I hadn’t figured Richard for a gamer, but what did I know?

  “Not quite. Cliff, I’m here to see Mr. Wallace.”

  He nodded. “I’ll call his office now.”

  A minute later I was heading up the elevator on my way to see Griffin. I was proud of myself for having gotten this far. This had been a piece of cake. But as the elevator reached its destination, my confidence dropped with every passing floor. I was nervous. Scared. What if he kicked me out? What if he didn’t want anything to do with me or the baby? What if he didn’t want the baby? I felt as if my heart was in my throat as I thought about all those scenarios.

  The elevator reached my floor and I walked out feeling emotional, and ready to run away. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders and walked straight into the office.

  “I’m here to see, Griff—Mr. Wallace, please.”

  The assistant, another young guy, reached for the phone and said, “There’s a young lady by the name of—” He paused, covered the phone and said, “What’s your name again”

  “Nina.”

  “There’s a Nina here wanting to speak with Mr. Wallace.”

  “Ok…ok…” He frowned and listened some more. He looked up at me then with sad eyes. “I’ll tell her.”

  “Mr. Griffin is currently taking a very important call.”

  “Oh,” I said, no longer nervous, just disappointed and irritated. I didn’t come all this way for this. “But I was told to come up here by Cliff. He told me Mr. Wallace was available.”

  “Yeah, that was me who Cliff spoke to. There was nothing on Mr. Wallace’s calendar, so I thought he would be able to see you.” He gave me an apologetic look. “I’m so sorry, miss. Maybe you can come back later?”

  “Come back later? You think it’s that easy?” I found myself feeling so annoyed that I wanted to scream. “This… this… this is unacceptable!” I knew I sounded like an old, cranky school teacher, but I was mad. I was beyond mad, I was furious.

  “What is unacceptable is you coming in here and making a scene. Now I suggest you leave, or I’ll have security escort you out.”

  I turned around slowly, immediately recognizing that condescending tone, her grating voice. Her presence irritated me even more. It was the grouchy woman from my interview. What was she doing here?

  “You!” we both said at the same time, clearly not happy to see each other. Apparently, she disliked me as much as I disliked her.

  “What are you doing here? You’re that sequins bikini girl!” she scoffed.

  “She’s here to see Griff—”

  “That’s Mr. Wallace to you,” she growled at the receptionist who looked ready to hide under his desk.

  “I need to talk to Griffin. It’s a personal matter,” I said shortly. I felt intimidated by her but I was determined not to show it. Too much was at stake and she fancied herself some sort of gate keeper to Griffin.

  “Whatever you need to speak to Griffin about, you can tell me.”

  Before pregnancy, I would have just walked away like a coward, but not today. I had too much to lose. I shook my head. “I would prefer to speak to Griffin only, please.”

  She stared at me and looked me over with disapproval and hostility practically radiating from her pores. I felt that my very presence offended her deeply. She clearly hated me, but she had no reason to. She didn’t even know me. I don’t know why, but I felt like crying. She was looking at me as if I were some sort of stray dog dragged in from the outside. I felt my resolve disappearing and I struggled to keep my emotions from spiraling out of control.

  With a shaky voice, I said again, “I would like to speak to Griffin, please.”

  “Again, young lady, I told you that won’t be possible. Griffin’s away on business.”

  “The receptionist just told me that he’s taking a call,” I said, trying but failing to stop my voice from betraying my topsy-turvy emotions. I was feeling angry and upset, and barely able to speak.

  “The receptionist lied,” she stated flatly.

  The receptionist opened his mouth to protest and she shot him a steely look that made him openly flinch. It was clear to me the receptionist wasn’t the one who was lying.

  I decided then to take a stand.

  I looked around and sat on the couch nearest. It was one of those stupid, uncomfortable modern couches that were more pieces of abstract art than furniture. I was probably sitting on a sculpture that wasn’t furniture, but I wasn’t going to move now. It was too late. I was taking a stand, albeit by sitting down. I folded my arms across my chest and stared at the odd piece of art in front of me. Oh jeez, I thought to myself, maybe that was actually the sofa.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m going to sit here until one of you gets Griffin,” I said, trying to sound like I actually meant it. “And I’m not leaving until I see him.”

  “Very well,” the woman said. And without missing a beat, she followed with, “Zach, call security.”

  “Mrs. Wallace…” Zach said giving me a mournful look. “She’s harmless. I mean just look at her. She’s sitting on the sculpture for God’s sake. Maybe she just needs help.” The way he said the word “help” made me realize that he thought I had some sort of mental illness. Great. Just great. But whatever. If that worked in my favor, Zach the receptionist could believe anything he wanted.

  “Useless,” she growled at him. She shoved him away from the desk and proceeded to call security.

  Sweat began to pool down my back and my underarms. My heart was racing. What the hell do I do now? I can’t get arrested, I thought in panic. I’m pregnant!

  Desperate, I tried one more time to talk reason to her. I tried to keep my voice calm even though I felt like crying and shouting in anger at the same time. “Listen, I just need to talk to Griffin. Just five minutes, please. Like Zach said, I’m harmless.”

  “Security is on its way,” she said dismissively.

  And she was right. Seconds later two guards showed up at the door.

  “Miss, come with us.”

  I
stood up slowly and extended my wrists. I closed my eyes, waiting for them to put the cuffs on me. When nothing happened, I slowly opened my eyes and saw that the security guards were looking at me with a bemused expression.

  One shook his head in confusion, hit my hand out the way, and grabbed my arm. “Let’s go…”

  “Am I being arrested?” I asked, frightened as they escorted me out of the office. I glanced back at Zach and the old woman right as the door closed. The old woman had a small smile on her face and Zach looked like he was ready to cry.

  Oh, God. I hope I didn’t get him fired, I thought mournfully.

  The security guards didn’t say a word to me during the elevator ride down. I stood between them awkwardly wondering if a patrol car would be waiting for me downstairs. If I went to jail, I hoped they would allow me to have frequent bathroom breaks because I could barely hold it nowadays.

  I started crying at the thought of being pregnant and alone and in jail. Pretty soon, I was sobbing in the elevator and the security guards avoided making eye contact with me.

  “Come on,” the other one said as they pulled me out of the elevator. My legs were wobbly and I felt like I was going to faint. “No one’s going to arrest you. Just calm down.”

  “Are you—are—are you sure?” I managed to squeak out between deep breaths and sobs.

  “Jesus, lady. Get it together,” said the other guard. “You can’t stalk people without consequences, you know.”

  “I’m not a stalker!” I said more loudly than I intended.

  And then I felt a hand at my elbow. I looked behind me and it was Cliff.

  “I’ll take it from here, fellas.”

  One of the security guards patted me awkwardly on the shoulder as if to reassure me. “Listen, you seem like a nice girl. Find a nice boyfriend or girlfriend and get some help.”

  He walked away with the other security guard and I watched them in silence as they disappeared.

  “That was a disaster,” I said, tearing up again as Cliff guided me by my elbow out of the building.

  “Listen, I’m sorry for what happened back there. I didn’t know the old witch was upstairs. She must have used the private executive entrance and didn’t notify anyone,” Cliff said.