Eclipse of the Heart

chapter 26

Amanda spent several weeks working hard. In the spirit of "don't ask for permission, ask for forgiveness", she carried on with her job as if she'd never been fired. With each day that passed, she grew more comfortable with the idea that Logan did not intend to challenge her on the issue.

Via email, she received permission to travel to Philadelphia and meet with the Molloys. They accepted her explanation that another employee had sent the note to cause trouble and that employee had been terminated. She left with high hopes that the purchase would take place.

Although, in the back of her mind, a niggle of worry remained. It would be very difficult for her to move to Philadelphia to run Daily Eats. She was going to need the help of her mother to raise this baby, which meant staying in the New York area.

If she grieved at night over the absence of Logan, no one else knew it. She would have a part of him when her baby was born, and that would have to be enough.

The tenuous peace she'd attained was blown up in the dark hours before dawn one morning when she began bleeding. After she reached the hospital, the doctor confirmed her worst fears.

"You need complete bed rest." Her ob/gyn, Dr. Vesser, spoke gently, but her words struck fear into Amanda's heart.

"I can't do that," Amanda said, clutching the thin hospital nightgown. "My job—"

"You're only in your fifth month. The health of your baby must be your first concern."

"Yes, but I need an income."

"That's what disability is for," the doctor said crisply. She tapped on her laptop, writing notes to seal Amanda's doom. "I'd like you to go home and make arrangements to stay there. Is there anyone who can help you? You'll need someone to take you home from the hospital today."

"I can work at home, right?"

"Only if you want to risk losing this pregnancy."

Amanda stared as the news rolled around in her head with terrible finality. She had to choose between her job and her baby? Of course, that was no choice. The job would have to go, but as the door started closing, she railed one more time at the turn her life had taken. She wanted to work! She needed to work! Was that asking so much of the fates? How had her life fallen apart so completely?

As she watched the doctor typing away, a great weight settled on her chest. She was an unmarried, pregnant woman. Whatever independence she might have achieved without this catastrophe had disappeared like a will of the wisp. She was so dependent on others now that she couldn't even get home from the hospital on her own. How had this happened?

"By the way, doctor, how did I get pregnant while on the pill?" The question had been bothering her right from the beginning.

The doctor glanced up. "No birth control is one hundred percent effective."

"I thought that was because people were careless, lied, or didn't use it properly."

Dr. Vesser shrugged. "Those things are true. But there are also unexplained pregnancies. Were you on any antibiotics prior to becoming pregnant?"

Amanda gasped. The strep throat. Had that doomed her? She hesitated, suddenly unsure if she really wanted to know. But it had never been her way to hide her head in the sand.

"What if I was?"

"There's a possibility that antibiotics interfere with the pill," the doctor answered. "It's never been proven definitively."

Amanda closed her eyes as the news sank in. Could such a simple twist of fate have been her downfall?

The doctor patted the foot of the bed. "It's only for four months," she said. "The time will pass."

Easy for her to say. Amanda watched her go and then heaved a sigh. At this point, it didn't matter how she'd gotten pregnant, nor how helpless she was. She needed to call Rosie and get herself home and situated.

Rosie was the only one who knew yet. Besides Logan, of course. But she'd do anything short of a miscarriage to avoid calling him.

However, the very next day, when she was on the phone to HR, learning about short-term disability, her doorbell rang.

Instinct told her exactly who it was. He hadn't given up. He'd only retreated to wait for his opportunity to pounce.

"I'll call you back," she said to the clerk at HR.

She made her way to the door, hoping it wasn't some kind of official legal summons waiting for her. A custody lawsuit always loomed in the back of her mind.

The peephole showed her Logan standing outside, tall and handsome, looking crisp in a charcoal gray suit, blue and white striped shirt, and yellow tie. Her heart stuttered.

"Good morning," he said when she cracked the door. "May I come in?"

Silently, she removed the chain and opened the door. Why had she gotten pregnant with such a persistent man?

"How are you feeling," he asked, herding her subtly toward the sofa.

"Good," she said, a hint of defiance in her tone. He couldn't prove otherwise.

As always, she'd underestimated him.

He didn't sit next to her on the sofa, choosing instead the upholstered chair.

"You should put your legs up." He set his briefcase on the coffee table.

The first twinge of alarm zinged through her. "Why are you here?"

"I heard you won't be able to work." He met her gaze. "Of course, the company will approve short-term disability for you. That's not why I'm here."

"Why, then?" She swung her legs up, feeling ungainly and unlovely. The apartment was cold and she'd dressed in worn out sweats. Not the kind of outfit any woman would voluntarily wear in the presence of a man like Logan Winter.

He leaned forward. "I have a proposal for you." He pulled a set of keys out of his briefcase and dangled them in his long fingers. "A place for you to stay."

"I have a place to stay."

"You told me this was a six-month sublet." He glanced around the apartment. "When your mom and sister returned, you were planning to figure out new living arrangements."

"I still plan to do that."

"While on bed rest?" He raised his eyebrows.

"How did you hear about—" She waved her hand, but the question was pointless. He always knew everything.

"I did, and that's all that matters." He leaned forward, the keys clanking a bit with a sound like a cell door closing.

"Thanks for the offer." The words hurt as she pushed them through her tight lips. "I'm all set, though." She could never forgive him for the words he'd spoken when she told him about her pregnancy. If it was the last thing she ever did, she'd prove she didn't need him and hadn't tried to trap him.

"I know you're stubborn to a fault." He sighed. "So here's my deal." He flipped open his laptop.

"I'm not interested." She grabbed a pillow and held it over her stomach, like a shield. She didn't even want him to see the evidence of the baby. God forbid he should start talking about custody again.

"These are the documents my lawyer has drawn up," he said, pointing to the computer screen, "requesting joint custody for the child."

Amanda gasped. "You wouldn't!"

He glanced at her curiously. "I said I would. You didn't believe me?"

"I'll deny everything."

"Amanda, what is wrong with you? Paternity is easy to prove."

"Are you planning to talk in court about how I caught you? Will you favor the judge with one of your speeches about how you never wanted to have children?"

His lips tightened. "At least when I make a mistake, I acknowledge it, apologize, and move on. I guess you can't do the same."

"No. I can't. I'm the one who's trapped, not you. I didn't make vile accusations against you. If I ever do, then we'll see how well you move on." She picked at a smudge of dirt on the sofa, but she knew it wouldn't disappear any more than Logan and his demands would.

His face softened. "I know you feel trapped. I'm proposing to make your sentence lighter by offering you my home on Cape Cod for the duration. Mrs. MacDonald would go with you to handle chores so that you can have complete rest."

"Mrs. MacDonald? What are you talking about?" The twinge of alarm had become a full-blown case of panic. The only way to get over Logan was to cut him out of her life completely. Every time she saw him, the knife in her heart twisted a bit more. Even now, his scent was tantalizing her, his lips enticing her, and his shoulders teasing her with their promise of a safe haven. One way or another, she had to yank that knife out of her heart. Which meant, she couldn't have any connection to the man.

"Did you know Mrs. MacDonald is sixty-seven years old?" he asked.

"No." But she wasn't dumb enough to think this was a random change of topic. "Why don't you pension her off?"

"I've offered her the pension my p—" He stopped abruptly.

"Your parents?" The words burst out of her. "You have parents?"

He rose suddenly and stalked over to the window, his back to her. "Mrs. MacDonald," he said, "has a pension, but she prefers to keep busy. It would be easier on her to take care of you on the Cape than to manage my household here in Manhattan."

"Oh, no." Amanda glared at his back. "You've used that maneuver on me before, where I should do Mrs. MacDonald a favor. It's not working this time."

He wheeled around, thrust his hands in his pockets and rocked back a little on his heels. "Fine. Here's the deal straight up. If you accept my offer to move to the Cape, I'll suspend the battle for custody. If not—" He nodded at his computer. "I'll tell my lawyer to proceed."

Amanda wanted to jump to her feet and confront him from a more equal position. But, once again, the baby's needs trumped hers. Instead, she took a couple of deep breaths, reaching for the calmness that his mere presence stole from her.

"I don't understand your obsession with this baby."

His gaze rested on her thoughtfully. "I would have gone my whole life without having children. But now, when a child of mine is going to be born, with or without my wishes, I intend to deal with it. Unlike you, I always deal with reality."

"Fine words," she jeered. "I say you're totally afraid to face reality. I think something happened in your past that affected you terribly. And, guess what, you're not dealing with it."

He cast her one baleful glance, stalked back over to the coffee table and, with swift, jerky movements, packed up his computer.

"Here are the keys." They clattered on the table. "Be on the Cape in one week or get yourself a lawyer."

The door closed behind him. He didn't even give her the satisfaction of slamming it.

He knew his threat was potent enough to work.