A Very Daddy Christmas (Lucky Lady Reverse Harems)

Chapter 14

14

Cora

I t’s been a week since I broke it off with the guys.

A week since my bed has been lonely and cold.

A week’s worth of crossing paths, our interactions friendly and strictly professional. Every moment I spend in their presence feels tense because there are plenty of unspoken words left between us.

Christmas is inching closer with each passing day. The first snow has fallen, and Madison looks beautiful covered in white and riddled with twinkling, colorful lights everywhere. The holiday spirit is settling in, yet unlike the previous years, I’m not feeling it as much as I would’ve liked. Something is missing. Or, better said, someone.

I get out of the car and make my way across the street to the bakery. It looks so pretty from the outside. Carl helped us with the exterior decorations—red and gold garland hung above the windows which are adorned with gingerbread men and candy cane sticker motifs. The exterior potted shrubs flank the front entrance, baubles and ribbons decorating them, and there’s a string of red and green lights glimmering along the door frame. It’s festive but not cluttered.

“I like it,” I tell myself.

Carl, Eva, and I worked late yesterday to get everything ready for the start of the Christmas season.

“Miss Levine.”

A familiar voice has me spinning on my heels just as I’m about to open the door. I can see my sister inside behind the counter, serving a couple of clients.

“We need to talk.”

“Mr. St. James,” I mutter, nauseated by the mere sight of him. “What do you want?”

He sits in the back of a limo, the car window rolled down. There’s no one else with him yet shivers still run down my spine. Shadows linger on his shoulders, like an ominous aura. I don’t like this.

“Please, join me. I would appreciate the privacy,” Orson says as he opens the door.

“I’ll have to decline.”

“I have no intention of harming you in any way, Miss Levine. I really do just want to talk. Please,” he says, softening his tone and his gaze with purpose.

I glance at the bakery. Eva hasn’t seen me yet. There’s hot chocolate in the cups she just put on their respective saucers atop the counter. Steam rolls gently upward from their whipped cream tops as she drops a handful of mini chocolate chips upon each.

Orson is still waiting. I shift my focus back to him, then check the sidewalk both ways, remembering we have a state-of-the-art security system installed with CCTV cameras.

“Alright,” I mumble and get in the back of the limo, aware everything is being recorded on camera. “What do you want, Mr. St. James?” I ask as I sit across from him.

He slowly shuts the door and the interior lights come on. From the outside, the limo doesn’t look that big. Inside, however, the perception is different. There’s enough room for a small brunch party, and the seating is annoyingly comfortable. Also, heated.

“I wanted some privacy for what I’m about to say,” Orson says, leaning forward. “Cora, I’ll be honest, none of this is my fault.”

“That’s rich,” I snort and cross my arms, leaning back into my seat. “Really fucking rich. Weren’t those your goons who trashed my bakery?”

“Yes and no. You see, there are other interests in the middle here. I made promises I need to keep, and under no circumstances can I let you buy the building. It’s reserved for someone else,” he says.

I scoff harshly. “Too bad. A contract is a contract. All we did was abide by its terms and conditions, by its clauses.”

“Yes, and that was my fault. I should’ve been more careful while reading those annexes. I was, admittedly, too thrilled about the sale clause to even make it to the part about the escrow bit. It may be my undoing.”

“Mr. St. James, I’m sorry if you made a promise you cannot keep, but the previous owners made a promise to my parents, as well. Unlike you, however, they put those promises in the contract. It’s my duty as a business owner and as my father’s daughter to make sure those promises are kept. We’ve had the bakery for decades, and now we’re able to buy the building. There’s nothing wrong with that, especially since you’re getting rid of it at twice its market value. And no one else has outbid us so far, correct?”

“It’s not about the market value!” Orson hisses furiously. “You don’t understand. Somebody really wants the building, and they’ll stop at nothing to get it. I admit, it was my mistake to enter such a commitment, but I really need you to work with me on this.”

“Why? You had no problem telling us to leave three months before Christmas.”

“As per the clause.”

“And as per the other clause, I put in a hefty amount of money to buy the building so I wouldn’t have to leave.”

Orson curses under his breath, and I can tell he’s having a hard time keeping his cool. “Cora, why don’t you just take that money and buy another building? There are plenty of places with lovely storefronts that would fit your needs.”

“I want this one because my parents, as well as my sister and I, have invested a lot into this place.”

“You can just move the equipment, you stubborn child!” He’s getting angry. Losing his patience.

I’ve clearly struck a nerve, but now, I admit, I am actually curious. “What’s really going on here?”

He takes a deep breath, his lips pressed tightly together as he scowls at me. “What’s going on is you can’t seem to understand that your safety and well-being depend on your presence here. Withdraw your offer, Cora. Leave. Use that escrow money to open your bakery somewhere else. I’ll even promote your new place in church when you open the doors again.”

“After you sent members of the congregation to trash talk us all over social media and everywhere else?” I raise a doubtful eyebrow, and I watch the blood rising into his pasty white cheeks.

“You forced my hand.”

“You forced mine first,” I shoot back. “We’re not leaving. I don’t care who wants to take over the building. Unless they have more money to put down for it, we’re buying it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Orson takes a few deep breaths, nervously glancing around in search of another convincing argument. I’m not sure he has any left. The biggest ones flew right past me already. He knows I have no intention of caving in.

“You leave me no choice,” Orson says. “I’ll have to find a way to make you leave if you won’t do it willingly. I’d hoped you’d reconsider.”

“This is our home. You made plans that didn’t include us, I get it. But plans change.”

“This isn’t about my fucking plans!” he snarls, growing increasingly agitated, furious even. “This is about people with enough manpower and money to do things the hard way. The kinds of things you don’t want to be on the receiving end of. Just take your escrow money and leave. You’ll be better off, I promise.”

“No,” I reply bluntly.

“Cora, if you don’t leave, it will get worse. You’re taking every other decent option away from me,” Orson warns.

I’m inclined to believe him, yet my spirit refuses to yield. We’ve come too far with this place. We’ve sacrificed so much already. I think it’s a battle of wills and egos at this point, not just principles and fairness going up against a ruthless businessman. The issue runs deeper than that. I owe it to myself, and to my sister, to do my part and stand my ground. Orson is just trying to intimidate me.

“Do your worst, Mr. St. James, and I will bring the law down upon you, as heavily as I can. I promise, it will get much worse for you ,” I reply and get out of the limo.

As soon as the cold air hits me in the face, I get dizzy.

The car door close behind me, tires skidding in a rush to drive away. I glance over my shoulder and watch the limo disappear into the thickening traffic, heading north into the city. I step inside the bakery, where the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls fills my heart with sweet warmth.

It also fills my stomach with something rank and acrid. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m positive I’m going to puke.

“Cora, are you okay?” I hear Eva ask.

I can’t focus on her. I’m too busy trying to keep myself upright. My head is getting lighter. My stomach tighter. What’s happening to me?

My knees feel weak, but I manage to give my sister a faint nod before I dash for the ladies’ room. I lock the door behind me and reach the toilet just in time by some sort of miracle.

Five minutes later, I’m drenched in cold sweat, a fire burning down my throat.

“Holy smokes,” I mutter as I pull myself up and flush the toilet.

One look at myself in the mirror above the sink, and I can tell something’s wrong. I’m paler than usual. Hungrier than usual. But then again, I’ve being going long stretches without being able to even stomach the mere sight of food. My mood swings have gotten worse.

I wash my face and pat it dry with a paper towel.

Then it hits me. My lips part in shock.

“Oh, shit.”

My period is late. It’s never late. It always arrives with Swiss precision. And given all the mindless lovemaking I’ve been doing…

I walk out of the bathroom and make a beeline for the street.

“Cora, what’s wrong?” my sister calls out.

“I’ll be right back. I’m sorry. I forgot something in my car,” I shout over my shoulder as the door shuts behind me. Crossing the street, I look both ways and thank the stars there’s a drugstore half a block down the street.

Fifteen minutes later, the plus sign glares at me with its happy shade of pink.

Eva’s knocking on the door. “Cora, talk to me! What’s going on with you?” my sister asks, heavy concern lacing her tone.

I’m shaking like a leaf. “I’m so sorry. I must have a bad case of the stomach flu or something, I’m not sure,” I reply with a trembling voice. “Give me a few minutes.”

“Are you okay? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

I nervously laugh. “No, I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“I’ll get the mint tea brewing,” Eva replies.

I lean against the door, listening to the sound of her receding footsteps. I guess it’s easier to lie when I can’t look her in the eyes. She’d see right through me, otherwise.

I’m pregnant. And the timing couldn’t be worse. Eva used to tell me there’s never really a right time for kids.

I think of the guys and what their reactions might be.

“Which one of them is the father?” I whisper, staring at my befuddled self in the mirror.

Does it matter? It’s done. I’m pregnant, and I have no idea what I’m going to do next.

I do know, however, that having a baby on the way makes me all the more determined to fight for this bakery, to do everything in my power to make sure my child has a legacy when I’m gone. Mom and Dad fought so hard with that tenancy agreement to make sure we had a chance to buy it if they couldn’t. I have to see this through.

So, I toss the pregnancy test in the trash bin, wash my hands and my face again, then take a deep breath and deliver a mental pep talk to myself before I walk out. Eva waits by the counter with a large mug. I can smell the mint leaf tea. Might as well proceed with this white lie until I figure out what I’m going to do next and what I’m going to tell her.

“Feeling better?” she asks, giving me a worried look.

“Yeah, now that I know what I’m dealing with,” I reply. At least that’s not a lie.

I do know what’s going on with me. It also explains the emotional instability, the rash decisions I’ve made, and the regrets that followed. Gosh, looking back now, I’m beginning to think breaking up with the guys was not something I fully thought through. Not really.

My feelings for them haven’t changed. If anything, they’ve only grown stronger in the absence of their intimacy.

Minutes go by in awkward silence as I take a long sip of my tea.

I need some wisdom from the outside, an opinion from another mind, because mine is shackled between conflicting scenarios and terrible fears. Eva keeps watching me, her curious eyes scanning my face, searching for answers where I can’t give her any.

“How’s the tummy?” she asks in a low voice.

The bakery is full, our customers tended to and busy nibbling on our seasonal treats.

“Better, thank you,” I say with a weak smile. “You worry too much.”

“I see you coming in, looking pale as death. Of course I’m going to be worried. You’re dealing with so much stress, it was bound to take its toll on you.”

“You’re dealing with the same amount of stress, though. In fact, you’ve got more to lose from this than I ever will. Your husband, your kids…”

“True, but they’re also my best form of stress relief. I have Carl to talk to. The girls to look after. I dispense my energy differently. You, on the other hand, you’re on your own,” Eva says. “So, yeah, I worry about you, about the way you’re coping with all of this.”

I give her hand a proper, loving squeeze. “We’re going to be okay, sis. We’ve always landed on our feet. I just need to finish this tea, maybe grab a bite to eat, and I’m sure I’ll start to feel better.”

“There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean?”

She narrows her eyes, as if she’s somehow able to peer deep into my soul. “I don’t know, Cora, but I feel like you’re not telling me something. I wish you would trust me.”

“Oh, gosh, I do trust you.”

“Then what is it?” Eva asks, patiently waiting for me to give her an honest answer.

Today isn’t the day for honesty. I’m barely prepared to admit certain things to myself, let alone to Eva. No, I need to keep my mouth shut. To work hard, rest, do everything in my power to get past it all, and then breathe a huge sigh of relief when we’re finally recognized as the new owners of this building. That finish line…

It’s so close.

“I’m stressed out of my mind, Eva. I promise you, that’s all it is,” I say to her. “I wish I had something more interesting to tell you, but it is what it is. This whole waiting around for the escrow term to expire is killing me.”

“Especially when we’re constantly looking over our shoulders, right? Worried about another attack on the bakery or so-called customers dropping one-star reviews,” Eva replies with a heavy sigh. “I guess you’re right. It’s a lot of hard stuff.”

“But I’m telling you, despite everything, we’re on the right track. I can feel it in my bones.”

I can also recognize when I’m lying to myself. Whatever helps me cope, I’m going to do it until that finish line is just within my reach. And when it’s over, I’ll be able to think clearly again.

Until then, I’ll keep struggling and loving Sebastian, Riggs, and Waylan in secret. I’ll get used to the idea that we’re not together anymore.

And I will find a way to push forward while I prepare to bring a new life into the world.