But if I were pregnant, Prince Charming wouldn’t be so interested. I’d be barefoot and huge, hair messy and face dirty. There’d be no happy ending. There’d just be me and my pumpkin.
So no, pregnancy was a bad idea. I couldn’t afford an accident. And definitely not by a prince about to leave his Cinderella behind.
CHAPTER TEN
Evan
“Can I get you anything else, sirs?” The waiter put my whiskey on the table and stepped back.
“Another one for me too,” my dad said. “And make this one a double.”
The server practically clicked his heels before turning and trotting away to do my father’s bidding.
But it was fine. The downtown steakhouse was crowded for seven p.m. on a Thursday night. We managed to snag a relatively quiet corner table in the back but the noise from the restaurant was almost too much, filled with businesspeople getting drunk.
It was sad, really. In New York, a lot of these people were hoofing it back to their offices after the last bite of their steak. The work day in this city doesn’t end until midnight a lot of the time, and we were no exception. Lincoln works its people hard, and Henry and I were probably gonna hightail it back upstairs afterwards as well.
Fuck my life.
Is that what we were about?
Working, working, working, until death knocked at your door?
I’d be the richest guy in the cemetery, but what good was that?
“That waiter better bring my drink back quick,” my father said, knocking back the last swallow of his gin and tonic. “We’re empty over here.”
“Chill, Dad. If the waiter ran back here he’d spill your drink and you’d only be even more pissed.”
My father grunted, even more bull-doggish than usual.
All week, we’d been wrestling with a merger. Well, I was wrestling with it and handling all the important pieces of the puzzle while Dad sat back and just asked the occasional question. It was surprising. He wasn’t even hovering over my shoulder like usual.
Instead, Henry relaxed and barely said a word while I took the reins, guiding the conversation and subtly pulling out aspects of the pending deal. Usually my dad’s on top of this shit like white on rice, so this was a nice change.
Plus, it was about time. I’m forty-five now, I’ve been to the rodeo a couple times.
And this plan with Maggie was going real well. Somehow she gave me an aura of responsibility and respectability, a seal of approval that only came with being a family man.
No time like the present to probe.
“You were real laid back in the meeting today, Dad,” I drawled casually. “You feeling all right?”
My father gripped his empty glass and opened his mouth to say something. Just then the waiter came back with his drink and whisked the empty glass away. Waiting until he was gone, Henry took a sip of his fresh cocktail and leaned back. He tapped his fingers on the table and looked me in the face like he was making some sort of decision.
I’m not gonna lie. My heart sped up like the Road Runner getting to bolt. Was this going to be it? Was he gonna give up his throne? Was I finally going to become emperor?
And it looked promising at first.
“I’m getting old,” Henry said, eyes faraway. He rapped his fingers on the table top. “I want to have a legacy, something more than just money. Something that outlives my brief time here on this world.”
Okay. Cool. I can get behind that.
“What do you want, Dad?”
There were lots of thing he could do. Raise money for charities. Work at his foundation. Spend more time with my mom. There were many worthy causes, and Lincoln Conglomerate would operate just fine.
But my father’s thoughts were far away. He tapped his fingers on the table some more, just thinking.
“What is it Pops? What’s going on?”
Finally, Henry sighed and took a long drink while changing the subject.
“How are things going with Maggie? You put that ring on her finger yet?”
It was like the old man knew exactly what to say to knock me off course. Not that it took that much of an educated guess. Other than work, Maggie was my life. Fake fiancée or not, that girl was deep under my skin and I didn’t want her to go anywhere.
Yeah, she’d stolen my heart. Against all odds, I’d lost it to an employee from the pet store with dirty hands and a sweet smile. But hey, she was my perfect fit, and it’s hard to find one of those. You can look high and low, get on a billion dating sites, and miss the one right under your nose.
So I nodded.
“Yeah,” was my grunt. “We went to Raul’s and got the ring—”
“Raul’s? Nice job! I know I didn’t raise a cheapskate.” My father chuckled but it didn’t sound natural.