According to the press, the CEO of St. Sebastian Luxury Resorts spent more time jetting between his high-end properties in the company of models, actresses, or heiresses than he spent in his corner office. All he had to do was cock one dark brow and women practically lined up to run their fingers through his thick hair, kiss his expressive lips, and drown in the depths of his aquamarine eyes. Eyes that now scoured the banquet room, no doubt searching for his most enthusiastic new employee.
Chelsea tugged Laurie toward the door. “What if he tells Paul? What am I going to do?”
“He won’t say anything,” Laurie assured as they snuck out of the banquet room.
“You don’t know that, but even if you’re right, it doesn’t matter. Keeping something like this from Paul is dishonest.” She pressed a hand to her stomach. “I have to tell him, and hope he can forgive me for making such a horrible mistake. I’ll call you later.”
On unsteady legs, she hurried to the elevators. Thankfully when she reached the business floor, she found the area deserted and slipped into Paul’s office unnoticed. She sat in one of the oxblood leather guest chairs and let her eyes roam the familiar space, taking in the formal furnishings. Massive oak desk, two walls lined with tall, imposing bookshelves. Not a particularly comfortable environment for her extremely delicate confession. Still, her mind ran through options. Hey, Paul, a funny thing happened on the way to the party. Well, not funny, exactly, but someday I’m sure we’ll laugh about it…
No, not good. Maybe, Paul, remember how I told you if you wore that Santa costume, your own mother wouldn’t recognize you? Uh-uh. Best leave his mother out of the discussion.
Before she settled on an approach, the door swung open and Paul walked into the office. He stopped short when he spotted her. “Chelsea. Hello. I guess Cindy told you I wanted to speak with you?”
God, he sounded tired. His normally smooth, combed-back dark hair showed wear and tear, and his glacier blue eyes bounced around the room as if afraid to rest in one place too long. Once again she thought of all the pressures he shouldered, and her gut twisted, knowing she was about to add to his stress. There was no way to sugarcoat this. Best to dive right in. “No. I’m here because, um, there’s something I have to tell you.”
“Me first,” he interrupted, cutting her off mid-dive. “I need to get something off my chest. It’s overdue.”
After months of tense silences and secretive behavior, which she’d attributed to the—ha, ha—joke of an audit, he now had something to say that couldn’t wait? If he was so anxious to talk, why couldn’t he have taken three lousy minutes out of his day to tell her he’d given the Santa suit to someone else?
“Cindy is pregnant.”
Chelsea’s jaw dropped. “Cindy Ruffy, our director of human resources?”
Paul nodded.
On the heels of shock came unease. Why not make an announcement to the entire team? Why pull her aside for a one-on-one meeting? But even as those questions took shape, she admonished herself for finding fault. The woman was single, and, as far as Chelsea knew, not dating anyone. Her pregnancy would raise speculation—mostly of the unflattering variety—because Cindy’s throw-people-under-the-bus approach to her career hadn’t earned her many fans at Las Ventanas. Maybe she hoped a controlled distribution of the news would help minimize the gossip?
Paul seemed to be waiting for a response, so she said, “Goodness, I had no idea. I didn’t realize she was interested in starting a family, but, if she’s happy, I’m happy for her. Do we know the father?”
“Yes. Chelsea, I— There’s no good way to tell you this. I’m the father.”
She’d heard the expression “shocked speechless” before, but never truly lived it. Never experienced this strange paralysis where her lips and tongue disconnected from her brain. After a couple false starts, her synapses finally unfroze. “You and Ruff-Ruff?”
He frowned. “I know this comes as a shock, but I expected better from you.”
“Likewise,” she said, unreasonably proud her voice gave no clue of her crumbling heart. Then, before she could stop herself, she ruined it by asking the clichéd question. “Are you in love with her?”
“I think so.”
“You think so?”
“Don’t go there, Chelsea. You’re a sweet girl. Dedicated. Generous. Trusting. I don’t want to hurt you.”
He made her sound like a golden retriever. “Then be honest with me. I deserve an explanation.”
He smoothed a hand over his hair, and sighed. “Cindy and I have a lot in common. Like me, she hasn’t spent her entire life within the protective bubble of Montenido. She’s bold and worldly.”
Bold? Worldly? “She’s from Fresno.”
&nb
sp; “She goes after what she wants and she doesn’t let anything stand in her way. I’m like that, too. I’ve asked her to marry me, and she’s agreed.”
Truth lodged like a cold, hard lump in her throat. Neither the pregnancy, nor Paul’s feelings had snuck up on him over the past few weeks. This had been going on for a while, but he’d held off on breaking the news to her until the timing worked for him. “So while I slaved my butt off like a good little worker to help with a transaction I didn’t even know about, and you claimed to be tied up in meetings, you were actually sleeping with…her.”
He dropped into the chair beside hers and took her hand. “I didn’t plan this. Nobody’s at fault. There’s no one to blame. I deeply appreciate your support and loyalty as my career has taken off, but we’re in such different places now. You must sense it too. I hoped you would understand.”
She pulled her hand away and stood. “I understand completely.” He’d used her, strung her along for his benefit, and she’d been so eager to please him and win back the affection she’d sensed him withholding, she’d been pathetically easy to use. Granted, their relationship hadn’t been long, but she’d given it her all. She always did.