Making Up (Shacking Up 4)

He frowns, brow furrowing. “People can go fuck themselves.”

“I don’t want to start my career looking like a money-grubbing ladder climber.” I duck my head, embarrassed by what I’m about to admit. “Besides, I’ve already requested a New York placement. And it’s not a Mills Hotel.”

Now he’s glaring at me. “Why didn’t you say anything before now?”

“There’s no guarantee I’ll get the placement, and we weren’t doing the labels thing, or actually trying to be in a real relationship.”

“I can make sure you get the placement.”

I arch a brow. “You can, but you won’t, for all the reasons I’ve just cited. I will, however, pay my internship advisor a visit and request New York as my number-one placement choice.”

“How many weeks is your placement? Where else have you applied?”

“Four weeks, and I’ve applied in California, New York, Berlin, Montreal, and a Bahamas cruise ship, plus a few others.”

He sighs and taps the table. “If you don’t get New York, will you let me at least look into other options?”

“We can talk about it if it becomes something to talk about.”

Once we’re finished with breakfast, Griffin sees me out to the valet where he’s requested a car. He laces his fingers with mine, and I’m suddenly very glad for the dress I’m wearing. People address him as Mr. Mills and give me inquisitive looks. I can’t imagine the stares if I were wearing one of my cheeky logo tanks and shorts.

I’m pretty much floating across the lobby when I spot a very agitated woman, hands flailing as she barks at the concierge. It catches Griffin’s attention, and he comes to an abrupt halt. “Fuck me.” His grip on my hand tightens momentarily before he releases it and steps in front of me, like a shield.

“I’m his fiancée, and I demand to see him!” the woman shouts.

All the buoyancy of the morning seems to be sucked down in a vortex of impending doom. Griffin looks like he wants to sink into the floor. “Who is that woman?”

She scans the lobby and spots Griffin. “Never mind. There he is.” She adjusts her purse and turns, which is the moment all the air seems to disappear from the room. “Griffin! Sweetheart, you need to talk to the staff here. I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour,” she calls out as she approaches.

She’s beautiful, her light brown hair cut in an elegant, smooth bob. Her makeup is flawless. She’s willowy and tall and screams of money and sophistication.

When she tries to hug Griffin, he holds her at arm’s length. “What the hell are you doing here?”

She smiles up at him. She’s in heels, and she’s tall so she doesn’t have to look up very far. She rubs her belly, which is when I notice the very obvious bump.

“Griffin? Who is this?” I croak.

The woman in question turns to look at me, her smile shifting quickly into an annoyed sneer as she looks me over. She holds up her hand, flashing a rock the size of my head. The glare from the lights nearly blinds me. “I’m Griffin’s fiancée, and who might you be?”

“An idiot, apparently.”Chapter Fifteen: Baby DaddyGriffin

Before I have a chance to process what’s happening, Cosy is already halfway across the lobby, heading for the valet. I fix an angry glare on Imogen. “Stay here.” I rush after Cosy, my stomach already in knots.

Imogen is pregnant.

Imogen who broke off the engagement because she wanted roots and stability and didn’t think I would ever be able to settle down and provide that. Imogen who wrote me an entire manifesto of my shortcomings so I would know, without a doubt, that it was my fault we didn’t work out.

By the time I get outside, Cosy is already at the taxi stand. I don’t know what I’m going to say to her, or how to explain this, but I need to at least try. The valet steps up to the cab, prepared to help her escape me.

“Do not open that door,” I shout. “Cosy, wait. You need to listen to me.”

She whirls around. Her anger is stunning and damning at the same time. “You have a pregnant fiancée that you failed to tell me about. What the hell can you possibly have to explain?”

“Imogen is my ex-fiancée. We ended things months ago.” I keep advancing, and she holds up a hand.

“Months ago? And you didn’t think it was relevant to tell me about her or the fact that she’s pregnant?”

“I didn’t know she was pregnant until now.”

She closes her eyes and rubs her temples. “Then I think you need to be dealing with her and not me right now, wouldn’t you agree?” She turns to the valet. “I’d like to leave, please.”

I desperately want to stop her, but nothing I can say is going to undo the damage that’s been done, so all I can do is watch Cosy disappear into the car and drive away.