EIGHT
CLAIRE STRETCHED OUT ON THE new sofa, determined to close her eyes for just a few minutes before getting up and going back to work. She couldn’t go back to the Ashton Court jobsite. She’d turned too fast moving a coil of wire and passed out. When she came to, Mike was standing over her and Sparks, the traitor, was on the phone with Luke.
Luke told her to go home, or he’d fire her ass. He must have said something similar to Sparks because when she hung up, Mike and the gray-haired project manager practically escorted her downstairs, and Sparks drove her to Luke’s. Home. Damn it, how long was it going to take for that to feel right?
She heard the door open and close, but she didn’t bother to open her eyes. The penthouse was more secure than a bank vault, and she was still too frustrated to look at Luke.
“I did exactly what you told me to." She added the ‘you bossy SOB’ under her breath. “I’m home and lying down. I’m fine. Just like I told you and Sparks, I’m fine.”
“Miss?” came a woman’s voice and Claire hurried to open her eyes and sit up.
Esmeralda was watching, concern evident in her expression.
“I’m sorry,” Claire told the housekeeper. “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“Are you okay, miss?”
“I’m fine,” Claire said, propping herself up on the sofa she and Luke picked out to replace his sterile white one. “I got little light headed at work and the stupid men made me come home. I’m fine, really.” She started to stand and her stomach gave a little lurch, making her think better of it.
“You really should rest,” said the older woman kindly. “I’ll make you some decaffeinated tea. The early part is the hardest. It will get easier.”
“What early part, Esmeralda?” she asked, wondering what in the world the housekeeper was talking about.
“With the baby. In the beginning, with the baby, but don’t worry, it gets better. And it’s all worth it in the end.” She hurried off, presumably to make tea for a baby that didn’t exist.
Claire thought about trying to stand again but decided she could wait to set things straight with the housekeeper when she came back with the tea. There was no way she could be pregnant. She’d been on the pill since before she and Luke met. She’d taken antibiotics for a sore throat, but that had been while she and Luke were apart. The course of drugs ended a couple of days before they’d made up in the parking garage.
Claire sat, shoving aside every feeling she was having and forcing her racing mind quiet until Esmeralda came back carrying a tray with a cup of tea and a plate of saltine crackers.
“Here you are, miss. When are you due? It can’t be too soon if you’re still having morning sickness.”
“I’m not pregnant.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Esmeralda, looking like she wasn’t certain she should trust what Claire was saying. “I just thought, well, you moved in so quickly, and I don’t think Mr. Masters even had a woman spend the night before. Then when you were dizzy moving boxes. I’m sorry. I jumped to a wrong conclusion.”
Esmeralda continued to speak, but Claire couldn’t hear over the ringing in her ears. She couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Was it? Oh God. As she looked around Luke’s place, everything that happened the past couple of weeks replayed in her mind. The dizziness and nausea, the almost ravenous hunger and weird moodiness.
“What?” she asked when she looked up and saw the concerned expression on the housekeeper’s face.
“I asked if I could get you anything else, miss.”
“No, I have to go.” Claire stood, shoving her feet back into her work boots.
“I’m sorry, miss. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
The housekeeper looked worried and it took Claire a moment to realize she might be concerned about her job. Pushing aside her own panic for the moment she faced the older woman.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” she said, hoping she sounded genuine. She didn’t want Esmeralda to be afraid of losing her job because she’d been too dense to realize she might be pregnant. “It’s okay. I won’t say anything to Luke if you don’t. I didn’t know. I still don’t,” she added, praying she had some kind of obscure flu.
The older woman nodded and then opened her mouth, closing it again without speaking.
“What is it?” asked Claire. It mattered to her that the other woman felt comfortable talking to her again.
“It just that just because a blessing isn’t planned for, doesn’t mean it isn’t a blessing.”
CLAIRE WAS IN the private elevator on her way to the parking garage before she realized her truck was still at the job site. Sparks had driven her home, probably so she couldn’t go over to the new property on Chestnut Street after Luke kicked her off the Ashton Court job. She thought about calling for the car Luke used when he didn’t want to drive, but until she knew for certain what was going on, she couldn’t stand the idea of depending on him to take care of what she needed.
She walked past the Veyron and the empty spot where the Jag usually sat, blinking in the sunlight when she ended up on the sidewalk in front of Luke’s building. Hailing a cab, she had him take her to the drugstore and wait while she ran inside and then drop her off at her old apartment building. When she walked through the doors of the lobby, the stale cigarette smell she’d never really noticed before hit her. Ignoring it and the stained teal carpet, she punched the button for the elevator, bouncing on her toes as she waited for the noisy car to arrive.
