The Real Deal Read online

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked, at the same time nervous and desperate to hear what he had to say in reply.

  “You didn’t think I was going to let it end at that, did you?”

  “Sort of?”

  “No way. You’re not getting off that easily.”

  When he pulled her jeans off and tossed them to one side, she had only a moment in which to hesitate. Then his face was buried between her thighs, and the entire world was full of colorful stars.

  Chapter Twelve

  ZACH WAS STARTING TO lose sleep. Actually, starting to wasn't exactly the truth, was it? He'd been getting less and less sleep since first meeting Betty, and in the weeks since returning from their weekend at the cabin, it had gotten much worse. They had had a wild time that weekend, full of experiences he never expected to have when he'd convinced her to enter into his strange little agreement. When they had returned home their trip had been splashed all over the media, and Lucille seemed to be having a harder and harder time making it seem like there was still anything between the two of them. The headlines on the gossip sites were changing from titles implicating that Zach was messing around before he settled down to suggestions that he and Betty might be the real deal. It was good; it was exactly what he'd wanted, and the two of the had continued to go out on dates to keep appearances up. Everything should have been gravy, and it would have been except that he could tell something was off. It was in the expression on Betty's face as she stared out of the car window when she didn't think he was paying attention. It was in the forced smiles he’d received when he cracked a joke or the silence that consumed more and more of their conversations. She was still there with him when she was supposed to be, but for the first time since meeting her, it felt like she was only going through the motions. It was all he had any right to expect of her. He was paying her for that much and nothing more. He had no right to be annoyed by her lack of presence during their time and yet annoyed was exactly how he felt. He wanted what the two of them had had sitting outside of the cabin when they had spoken to each other like they were both human beings, without any of the bullshit that so often got in the way. There had been something between the two of them and for some reason, it was gone. Except that he didn't think it really was gone. He thought that, for some reason, she was closing herself off to him and it was driving him half-mad. It was driving him mad enough that he took it upon himself to show up at her front door one evening without announcing himself or being invited.

  "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself with his fist poised just over the surface of her front door. This was moving squarely out of the carefully drawn-out guidelines of their agreement and into something else. He didn't know what the something else was, but he knew it was dangerous. It was a gray area, full of his feelings and God only knew what was going on inside of Betty's head. The best thing for him to do was turn around and go back home, and do it quickly, too, before she looked out the window or something and realized he was there. Instead of doing that he knocked and waited for her to appear, his blood rushing through his veins so quickly it sounded like an ocean moving through his head.

  "Hello?" she called quietly through the door. It wasn't a nice apartment, not by any means, and the door didn't have a peephole for her to look through. He felt a wave of anger over the fact she was living in a place like this and wondered what it would take for her to let him put her up some place nicer. She would never let him do it, but if he thought for a second that she would, he'd have a moving van there faster than she could even finish the sentence giving her consent.

  “It’s Zach, Betty.”

  "Zach?" she asked in a groggy, puzzled voice as she undid the multiple latches and opened the door. She looked exhausted and now that he was seeing her without being made up for a date like she had been that way for a long time. Nothing could have made him feel like more of an asshole. He'd been worrying about himself and himself alone and never once realized that she might be going through some shit, too.

  "Hey, babe." He had no idea where the use of "babe" had come from, but it felt right. If she was thrown off by it she didn't show it, but only peered at him in confusion.

  “Hey. I’m sorry, did we have a date tonight? I must have forgotten. I haven’t been feeling quite myself today.”

  “No,” he answered quickly lest she feel like she’d somehow dropped the ball, “we didn’t. I just wanted to check in. Wanted to see how you were.”

  “I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you are. I’ve just been getting a weird vibe lately.”

  “Do you listen to every vibe you get?” she asked. He looked for a smirk, some sign of humor, and got nothing. She only looked at him with those beautiful, tired eyes.

  "Not all, but most. Hey, would it be okay if I came in?" The question was blunt, and Zach had to work to hide his irritation. He had worked harder to make this woman like him, to trust him, more than he'd ever worked for anyone in his life and it didn't seem to matter even a little bit.

  "Sure," she said uncertainly, opening the door only a little further as if to indicate that she was allowing him in against her better judgment. He followed her inside nevertheless and would likely have said something he regretted if Betty had not collapsed on her living room floor. When he saw that he sprinted forward, doing his best to catch her before she hit the floor and not quite making it.

  "Betty! What is it? What's the matter?" he shouted. She gave no answer, passed out cold on the floor. He checked her pulse and then fumbled his phone out of his pocket, desperate to get her help. The first thing he did was call Matt. He knew without a doubt that Matt would get her to the hospital quicker than anyone, quicker than the ambulance, even. While he waited for the car to arrive, he cradled Betty's head in his lap and willed her to wake up.

  “I’M SURE YOU’LL BE happy to know that your baby is going to be just fine.”

  “Wait. What? What do you mean?”

  Zach could only imagine what his face must look like. Matt had done a bang-up job getting the three of them to the hospital, and because Zach was who he was, she had gotten in immediately to see a doctor. Zach had felt like he was losing his mind waiting to get some kind of an answer and he was relieved to see the doctor walking towards them with a smile on his face. What he wasn't prepared for were the words that came out of said doctor's mouth. The doctor looked at him with surprise, then smiled, and Zach wondered how many times he had seen something like this happen.

  “Ah, I see. I’m the one delivering the good news. Then I suppose you’ll be very pleased to know that both mother and baby are just fine.”

  “That’s...that’s good. That’s good to hear. Can you tell me what–?”

  “What happened? She’s not taking as good of care of herself as she should be. She needs to make sure she’s staying hydrated and taking her prenatal vitamins. I’m going to send the two of you home with some just to be on the safe side.”

  “Good,” he said in a voice that sounded too far away, “that’s good.”

  "I know this must be a lot to take in, but I'm here to answer any questions you might have."

  “Good. Great. I have one question, though. More of a request, actually.”

  “Of course. Shoot.”

  “I would very much appreciate it if you kept this whole thing quiet. I don’t know if you know who I am–”

  “I do. I think most people know who you are.”

  "Then you know that discretion is important for me. I don't need anybody catching wind of this, if you take my meaning."

  “I do, and I can assure you that would never happen. I’m bound to silence. It’s part of my oath.”

  Zach nodded and settled back into his chair. He didn’t need to look at Matt to know that the two of them were feeling pretty much the same thing.

  "Shit," Matt said in a low voice.

  “Yup,” Zach agreed, “Shit sounds about right.”

  Chapter Thirt
een

  Betty Ingrid

  “HOW ARE WE FEELING, Ms. Ingrid? Has your husband been by to see you?”

  “My husband?”

  “Yes, Mr. Jameson. I must say, he looked more than a little surprised when I mentioned the baby. I think I owe you him an apology on that one. Sometimes I get ahead of myself. One never knows what goes on between couples, does one?”

  Betty stared up at Doctor Wells and struggled to understand what he was saying. She understood that she was pregnant. The doctor had removed whatever small hope she'd had left that maybe she was only jumping at shadows. She'd been in and out of consciousness since being delivered to the hospital by a very concerned Matt and Zach, and her take on what had been going on was foggy at best. She didn't know how long she had been in the hospital, let alone whether or not anyone had been to visit her. Her heart first leaped with pleasure to hear that Zach had been there at all, then immediately plummeted when she realized what must have happened. She could see it now when she closed her eyes, much as she wished not to. He had spoken to the doctor. She knew that much from what Dr. Wells just told her, and she would have assumed he would do something like that even if she'd had nothing to go on but her own imagination. Zach wasn't the kind of man to sit back and wait. He was exactly the kind of man who would demand information whether it was his right to have it or not. Not to mention the doctor thought the two of them were married. So he had spoken to the doctor, learned that she was pregnant, and fled.

  "Of course he did," she whispered to herself as the doctor, oblivious to what was actually going on with his patient, exited stage left. What else could she expect him to do, at the end of the day? What could she expect him to do, really? It wasn't as if the two of them were a legitimate couple. It was all for show, and hadn't she been the one to make sure that was all there was between them? The stupid agreement was like a brick wall between them and one she had built with her own two hands. She had put herself squarely off limits and then been stupid enough to go and fall in love with him. Before this she would have laughed at anyone who said falling in love in a matter of months was even possible but now she knew. It was more than possible; it was happening to her and all after she had made sure she would never have a real chance. Now, to add insult to injury, there was a baby coming, and he would never look at her the same way again.

  “Hey, Betty. Is it alright if I come in?”

  She glanced up and saw Zach standing in the doorway, looking in on her like she had spontaneously developed into a different species overnight. Something inside of her chest clenched when she saw the way he was looking at her. It was different. The way he was looking at her now that he knew she was pregnant was different than it had been before, and she knew, just knew, that it would never go back to the way it was before.

  “Of course you can,” she answered with as calm a voice as she was able, “although what I would really like is for you to get me out of here.”

  “Come on,” he smiled, “it’s not that bad, is it? It’s one of the best hospitals in the city.”

  “I know, that’s what I’m worried about.”

  “The cost? You don’t need to worry about that. I’m going to take care of everything.”

  "Of course you are," she muttered, whether to herself or to him she wasn't quite sure. She had no right to be angry that he would pay for her hospital bills, especially when she wouldn't be able to pay for them herself. In truth, it was at the situation rather than at him, but it was easier to have a person to direct it towards. A person was something she could lash out at. A situation, her current one, in particular, wasn't nearly so easy to fight.

  “Hey, can we talk?” His voice was gentle, almost like he was afraid. It surprised Betty enough that she nodded her agreement and said nothing when he sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand.

  "I was going to tell you. I promise I was. I didn’t at first because I didn’t know, not for sure, and then I just didn't know how." Her voice was terribly small and hearing it made her want to cry. He squeezed her hand, and she looked up, pitifully thankful to see no anger.

  “It’s okay. I can’t imagine how hard it would be to try and deliver information like that when you’re in a situation like ours. But you don’t need to worry.”

  “I don’t? How do you figure?” She laughed bitterly.

  "Because. I'm going to make it right. I want you to marry me, Betty. We can get married, and we'll raise the baby together. We'll be our own little family."

  She stared at him, uncomprehending. In a million scenarios in a million different worlds, never would she have imagined him responding to her like this. Her whole body felt cold, and when she opened her mouth to speak, it felt as if her tongue was made out of lead.

  “Are you kidding me? That’s what you have to say?”

  “What do you mean? I don’t understand. I thought it was a good thing,” he asked, his head angled to one side in confusion.

  “Of course you did,” she said coldly.

  “Because it is. It would fix everything. And the baby would never have to worry about anything. He–”

  “How do you know it’s a boy?” she broke in. When he continued to speak it was as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

  “He would grow up with automatic good standing in this world. That’s something no amount of money can buy. Think about it, Betty.”

  And she did. In many ways he was right. If the two of them got married, her baby would never have to know the kind of life she had grown up with. Her baby would never worry about where the next meal would come from or whether or not college was even a possibility. She wouldn't have to worry about money anymore, either, and Zach would be able to put the Lucille nightmare behind him. A marriage would do a whole handful of good things, and she would never deny it. The only problem was she was falling in love with him and yet to him she was nothing more than a business prospect. That was all this was. It was another business prospect and if she agreed it would be no better than selling her soul.

  “We aren’t living in a Jane Austen novel, Zach.”

  “Of course not. I know that.”

  “I don’t think you do. If you did, you would never have made that proposal.”

  “I–”

  "I want you to go." The words sounded dead, and she couldn't make herself look him in the eye. If she did, she would cave and do what he asked. She was afraid it would be the worst mistake of her life.

  “Betty, please.”

  “I’m serious, Zach. I want you to go. Right now.”

  He remained where he was for a moment, and to Betty, it felt like an eternity. Finally, Zach sighed and rose heavily from his place by her side. She almost broke and called out to him. She could tell him it was a mistake, she was sorry, and could he just forget she'd ever said anything at all? He would do it, too. She knew that he would do it. It was part of what made it so important for her to remain silent. It wasn't until he was gone from the room that she started to cry.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Zach Jameson

  “YOU WILL NOT. YOU WILL not make this mistake.”

  Zach watched his father pace back and forth in front of one of eight fireplaces in the Jameson family home. They were in the room his mother liked to call the parlor, where his dad and his dad's business cronies had always liked to drink and smoke their ridiculously expensive cigars. Zach had always been afraid of this room when he'd been younger. It was the room from which his father had always ruled, delivering down punishments and proclamations whenever he felt like doing so. It was fitting, then, that this be the room in which Zach made his final stand. Dear old Dad didn't yet know that it was the final stand, but Zach knew it. He knew it before he ever stepped foot inside of the house. For the first time in his life, he had a real reason to make a stand.

  “I appreciate your concern, Dad, honestly.”

  “But?”

  “But you’re laboring under false pretenses. Because it’s not a mistake. It’s the furthest thing f
rom it.” Zach spoke calmly, watching his father pace, and waited for the older gentleman to explode. It took very little time for that explosion to occur.

  “Bullshit! It’s complete and utter bullshit, Zach! And for what, the little tart you’ve taken up with? This quarter-life crisis or whatever the hell it is?”

  "Don't, Dad. Seriously. You're going too far." Zach rose and took one step towards his father. It was only one step, but it was more than he'd ever taken when his dad got scary pissed off this way, aside from turning down his offer of work. The elder Jameson's eyes widened in surprise, but he recovered himself so quickly it was almost like there was no reaction at all.

  “Don’t be a sissy. It’s not too far. It’s not too far just because it isn’t what you want to hear. You’re already promised to Lucille and–”

  “No! No, that’s where you’re wrong. I never promised her shit. If Lucille is let down, that’s on you.”

  "So you wanted to screw around," his dad continued like Zach hadn't spoken at all. "Fine. You aren't the first man, and you won't be the last. That doesn't mean you have to give up the life you could build with Lucille. Only stupid men do something like that, and you have never been a stupid man. At least not up to this point."

  “You’re not getting it. She’s not just some piece of ass. She’s going to have my child.”