Her twin studied her with sympathy. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘It’s more a question of whatyouare going to do,’ Tabitha stated, turning the question back on her sister. ‘After all, I can’t marry Tore Renzetti now that I’m pregnant. It would be a breach of the contract I signed and I can’t hide it, so I’ll have to ’fess up and then the marriage won’t go ahead and that means we don’t get the money upfront to cover Mum’s clinical trial.’
Like Tabby, Violet was horrified by that idea because everything they had agreed had been for their mother’s benefit to enable the older woman to get further treatment unavailable in the UK.
‘I’ve already committed you,’ Tabby admitted with a grimace of apology. ‘I signed the pre-nup in your name. We can’t take the risk at this stage that Renzetti will back out—’
‘Butwouldhe? He must want those shares pretty badly to agree to this in the first place. And how am I supposed to pretend to be you when I’m six inches shorter and as dark-haired as you’re fair? His legal teamhasseen you,’ Violet reminded her in dismay.
‘For the wedding, we’ll stick you in high heels and a blonde wig with a veil on top. We can swing it if we try hard enough,’ Tabby declared with characteristic fortitude.
The worst of her challenges accomplished, Violet’s forgiveness for the bride swap freely given and gratefully accepted, Tabby returned to her shared flat. Her sister had already suggested that she move in with her because her tenant, Joy, was moving out. And Tabby could then easily take over running the bakery when Violet was absent.
The offer had only reminded Tabby that she had no permanent employment, no security. Not a good place to be in with a child on the way, she acknowledged, but she didn’t want to be a burden on Violet, who had quite enough on her plate now with that horrid marriage ahead of her in less than two weeks. Three years at the mercy of some guy who neither of them knew a thing about. He was very good-looking too, likely slick and a womaniser, Tabby assumed, having already done her social media exploration on the father of her child.
There was nothing good to be found out about Aristide Romanos online. He was never seen with the same woman twice which said it all, she thought grimly. Surely only a rampant playboy would be worrying about a virgin scamming him with a faulty contraceptive? Or had some unsavoury event turned Aristide bitter and suspicious? It was a struggle but she was trying to be fair, trying not to hate and demonise the guy who had turned a single wild night, as it were, into a mere hour of humiliation. She wouldn’t forgive him for that in a hurry, even if hewasgoing to be the father of her child. She didn’t care how rich and successful he was. That wasn’t an excuse.
At work several weeks later, she received a call back from the doctor’s surgery for another visit and groaned out loud. Being pregnant certainly seemed to run up the medical attention she required, although if they were able to give her something to combat the terrible nausea with which she was already suffering she would decide to be grateful. Now that she had taken over managing the bakery, she was surrounded by the fumes of food all day and it exacerbated the morning sickness.
That same evening, feeling like death warmed over, she was on her way out to keep her medical appointment when she walked out of the door of the flat and was confronted by the sight of Aristide in the flesh at the top of the stairs. ‘Oh!’ she gasped in panic, taken aback by the disconcerting sight of him when she had never expected to see him again.
‘Tabby…’ he positively purred, the benevolent tone ill matched to the slanting tension of the smile he dared to accompany it.
‘What the heck are you doing here?’ Tabby demanded sharply, in no mood to pretend that he could ever be a welcome visitor. ‘I don’t want to see you… I don’t want to speak to you either!’
‘Whatever else I may be, I’m responsible,’ Aristide informed her, falling behind her as she clattered on downstairs, ignoring him. ‘Obviously I need to speak to you again to address what happened between us last month.’
Although, in truth, Aristide was thinking that he probably wouldn’t have bothered had it been any other woman in the starring role. But this was Tabby, Tabby the curiosity, whom he still couldn’t get out of his mind, even if it was very possible that she was a gold-digger. How did he know? How could he even find out without seeing her again? So, itwasa case of acting responsibly, he assured himself.
‘Not as I see it,’ Tabby said breathlessly as she headed down the next flight of stairs.
‘I need to know if you’re all right,’ Aristide bit out impatiently.
All right? Being sick all the time and tired every hour of the day was all right?
‘No, I’mnotall right!’ Tabby snapped back without thought or any more patience than he had. ‘I’m pregnant and that is definitely not all right with me!’
Aristide was stunned, frozen to the spot as she disappeared ahead of him. By the time he reached street level there was no sign of her and frustration swelled inside him, threatening to overflow like a tidal wave. How could she just dropthaton him and then disappear without another word? What sort of woman was she?
A young woman of twenty-one without anyone to fall back on for support, his sane mind recalled. He now knew almost everything there was to know about Tabby Blessington. He didn’t know the details of the planned marriage she had flung in his teeth two months earlier but, more importantly, he knew that the wedding had gone aheadwithouther as the bride. He was also aware that she had quit her job as a temp and was in the process of moving out of her current accommodation into her sister’s apartment above the bakery, which she was currently running.
Tabby submitted to another blood test at the health centre with poor grace. The nurse mentioned the need for her to make another doctor’s appointment to see if anything could be done to help her with the morning sickness. Tabby made that appointment at the desk but she was really running on automatic pilot because everything after Aristide’s appearance had taken on the oddest sense of unreality.
Aristide, standing there as if he had stepped out of a dream, looking exactly the same as he had looked that day they first met. Ridiculously tall, impossibly handsome, black hair a little ruffled and long enough to start curling, something she suspected he usually curbed by keeping it shorter. Nothing had changed for him buteverythinghad changed for her. And it would’ve been a lie to deny that she was somewhat bitter and resentful over the truth that a woman suffered more than a man when she fell pregnant. A glimpse of Aristide, untouched by all the chaos that had engulfed her, had infuriated her and betrayed her into an honesty she would never have given him in any other circumstances. So, now that he knew there had beenconsequences, she wouldn’t see him for dust, she assumed with satisfaction.
Aristide was in shock and grateful not to be in the middle of his working day. Tabby’s fertility and his own had run a coach and horses through his life plan. Life had a habit of wrecking such ideas with the unexpected, he reasoned, straightening his spine. A baby…there was going to be a baby. But the minute he thought that, he realised that he didn’t know even that for a fact. She might not be planning to go ahead and actually have the baby. He could not afford to make such an assumption when on that score the future was hers to choose. Sobered by that reflection, Aristide poured another strong drink and he sat down to consider matters he had once hoped toneverhave to consider again. He also reached conclusions that shook him rigid and contributed to another sleepless night.
The next morning, Tabby arrived at the bakery in a rideshare with her cases, reaching them out as fast as she could, toting them one by one across the pavement. She stowed them inside the street door of Violet’s apartment upstairs and went into the bakery next door to start her working day. She had taken over the running of the bakery for her sister’s benefit. She couldn’t do the baking, for which Luca, an Italian pastry chef, had been hired, but she could handle the shop, the staff and the payroll.
In the tiny closet of an office space, Tabby checked the rotas, dealt with a salary query and made notes on the daily special orders for Luca’s benefit.
‘When I have my break at eleven, you’ll join me for coffee,’ Luca declared with warm dark eyes resting on hers.
‘Whatever…’ Tabby was weary of fighting off the Italian’s come-ons, past caring if he forced her to the stage of saying an outright no. If he took offence, on her head be it even though the bakery couldn’t function without his skills. Did he truly fancy her or was he merely under the impression that a female manager had to be convinced that he did? She couldn’t believe his attraction to her was real when she knew that she was looking less than her best with pasty skin and dark circles below her eyes. And even her hair was going awry while her hormones seemed to be going into overdrive with her pregnancy.
Later, Luca snared her from behind the counter to share morning coffee with him and Tabby was trying to head him off at the pass, as it were, before she decided to simply be honest. ‘Luca, I’ve just discovered that I’m pregnant,’ she admitted awkwardly. ‘So, really this is a case of bad timing—’
‘Is the father with you?’ Luca enquired with startling immediacy.
