positive.
And not long after, she did the third one (because everyone knew three times is a charm and three strikes your out, etc. etc.).
They all said the same thing. Nicole Masters was incontrovertibly pregnant, and now she needed to figure out what to do next.
***
Nicole wasn’t sure exactly when she’d decided that she needed to talk to Red.
Everything was happening so fast. And yet, at other moments, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl and the seconds were like hours.
She removed all evidence of her pregnancy from the bathroom, threw it all in a trash bag and then dumped that trash bag into the bottom of another bag full of garbage that Danielle would be very unlikely to sift through (unless she was secretly working for the FBI or something).
With that piece done, Nicole took out her phone and sat in the living room, staring at Red’s cell number.
Danielle had already gone off to work, so she had the apartment to herself.
Nicole sure as heck wasn’t going to the office today. No, today was a day she definitely needed some “me time.” Time to figure out how the hell she was going to deal with this issue, time to decide whether she could manage this on her own or whether Red might actually step up to the plate and help her to work through things.
But she was scared. She was scared first and foremost that Red had already moved on, put her in the past. Maybe he hadn’t really loved her the way she’d loved him—he certainly hadn’t played the part of a loving fiancé when he’d dumped her unceremoniously after his brother’s visit to his mansion.
Nicole didn’t believe that was the real Red who’d dumped her, who’d told her that he was protecting her from himself. Nicole thought that Red had been overcome by fear and self-doubt and self-loathing. He truly believed that she would be better off without him in her life.
Still, there was an echo of doubt reverberating in her mind. Maybe it was her mother’s voice, so sure of the fact that Red Jameson was nothing but a scoundrel, the worst kind of man you could meet—an undependable man.
Would Red even want to know that she was pregnant? She wondered.
Finally she forced herself to dial his number.
And her call went right to voicemail.
The mailbox was full, so she couldn’t even leave a message. After so much tension had built up inside her, struggling about even making this call, she was crushed to realize that Red’s phone was basically a nonworking number now.
The next step was even worse.
She had no choice but to show up at his home and demand to see him.
Changing into a decent outfit (a sleeveless blue dress and sandals), Nicole left the apartment and took the train out as far as she could, and then grabbed a taxi to take her the rest of the way to Red’s mansion.
She tried to keep herself calm as they got closer and closer. When they finally arrived at the front gate, the taxi driver turned to her. “You sure this is the place?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” she said, a horrible feeling coming over her.
The guard at the gate was someone she didn’t recognize. An older man with a bald head and white mustache, he glanced inside at her and then spoke to the driver.
“Can I help you?”
“This girl asked me to take her here.”
“Name please?” The guard said, now directing the questions at her.
“Nicole. Masters. It’s an emergency.”
“What sort of emergency, ma’am?”
“I need to see Red—I mean, I need to speak to Mister Jameson as soon as possible.” She tried to keep the neediness and fear out of her voice lest this stranger assume she was one of Red’s groupies, a stalker who’d carried out some delusional fantasy of seducing the powerful executive.
Red had told her such things happened from time to time and the security guards would all be well aware of it.
Nicole hated that she fit the profile, and she hated Red for putting her in a position of having to beg to see
And not long after, she did the third one (because everyone knew three times is a charm and three strikes your out, etc. etc.).
They all said the same thing. Nicole Masters was incontrovertibly pregnant, and now she needed to figure out what to do next.
***
Nicole wasn’t sure exactly when she’d decided that she needed to talk to Red.
Everything was happening so fast. And yet, at other moments, time seemed to have slowed to a crawl and the seconds were like hours.
She removed all evidence of her pregnancy from the bathroom, threw it all in a trash bag and then dumped that trash bag into the bottom of another bag full of garbage that Danielle would be very unlikely to sift through (unless she was secretly working for the FBI or something).
With that piece done, Nicole took out her phone and sat in the living room, staring at Red’s cell number.
Danielle had already gone off to work, so she had the apartment to herself.
Nicole sure as heck wasn’t going to the office today. No, today was a day she definitely needed some “me time.” Time to figure out how the hell she was going to deal with this issue, time to decide whether she could manage this on her own or whether Red might actually step up to the plate and help her to work through things.
But she was scared. She was scared first and foremost that Red had already moved on, put her in the past. Maybe he hadn’t really loved her the way she’d loved him—he certainly hadn’t played the part of a loving fiancé when he’d dumped her unceremoniously after his brother’s visit to his mansion.
Nicole didn’t believe that was the real Red who’d dumped her, who’d told her that he was protecting her from himself. Nicole thought that Red had been overcome by fear and self-doubt and self-loathing. He truly believed that she would be better off without him in her life.
Still, there was an echo of doubt reverberating in her mind. Maybe it was her mother’s voice, so sure of the fact that Red Jameson was nothing but a scoundrel, the worst kind of man you could meet—an undependable man.
Would Red even want to know that she was pregnant? She wondered.
Finally she forced herself to dial his number.
And her call went right to voicemail.
The mailbox was full, so she couldn’t even leave a message. After so much tension had built up inside her, struggling about even making this call, she was crushed to realize that Red’s phone was basically a nonworking number now.
The next step was even worse.
She had no choice but to show up at his home and demand to see him.
Changing into a decent outfit (a sleeveless blue dress and sandals), Nicole left the apartment and took the train out as far as she could, and then grabbed a taxi to take her the rest of the way to Red’s mansion.
She tried to keep herself calm as they got closer and closer. When they finally arrived at the front gate, the taxi driver turned to her. “You sure this is the place?” he asked.
“I’m sure,” she said, a horrible feeling coming over her.
The guard at the gate was someone she didn’t recognize. An older man with a bald head and white mustache, he glanced inside at her and then spoke to the driver.
“Can I help you?”
“This girl asked me to take her here.”
“Name please?” The guard said, now directing the questions at her.
“Nicole. Masters. It’s an emergency.”
“What sort of emergency, ma’am?”
“I need to see Red—I mean, I need to speak to Mister Jameson as soon as possible.” She tried to keep the neediness and fear out of her voice lest this stranger assume she was one of Red’s groupies, a stalker who’d carried out some delusional fantasy of seducing the powerful executive.
Red had told her such things happened from time to time and the security guards would all be well aware of it.
Nicole hated that she fit the profile, and she hated Red for putting her in a position of having to beg to see
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