Twelve
Nick
It’s close to noon, and I’m lying in bed, half-awake, when the bed dips down slightly. By this time of the day, I’ve usually gone for my daily jog and been to the gym to get a workout in, but with everything going on, I’ve taken the day off. I roll over and Celeste is facing me. She had to attend a photo shoot last night after my game. Because it ran so late, she ended up staying at a hotel near where they were shooting.
“What are you still doing in bed? It’s almost noon.”
I sit up and take a sip from my water bottle I left on the nightstand. “I took a day off. What’s up?”
Her eyes go wide, and her grin is huge. “I heard back from Richard Ford.”
“The designer?” Celeste has been looking into expanding her company. As of right now, she has a makeup and an accessory line, both of which are excelling far beyond what she’d ever imagined. Now her goal is to start her own clothing line. She’s been pitching said line to several different investors, but who she really wanted to partner with is Richard Ford. According to Celeste, he’s one of the top designers in the world.
I offered to lend her the money to make it happen, so she wouldn’t have to partner with anyone, but she told me this is something she wants to do herself. I had invested in the initial startup of her company a few years back and was shocked when she’d paid off her loan in full—interest included—sooner than what we’d originally agreed upon. To say that I’m damn proud of her is an understatement. From the outside, Celeste may look like she’s nothing more than a beautiful model, but don’t let her cover fool you. Inside is a damn smart and savvy businesswoman.
“Yes! He’s all in!” she squeals. “I can’t believe it, Nick.” She clasps her hands together in excitement. “Production will start early spring.”
“That’s amazing!” I pull her in for a hug.
“And there’s more. Several of the department stores and boutiques I reached out to have verbally confirmed that they’re interested in carrying my line. If all goes well, my clothes will be in stores next Christmas! And not just in the United States! I’m talking international…Milan and Paris…Italy!”
“Look at you, conquering the world.” I give her hand a squeeze.
“My dreams are finally coming true.” She looks at me with a watery smile, and before I even know what’s happening, her mouth crashes into mine. I back up quickly, confused. “What are you doing?”
“Kissing my fiancé,” she says, hurt evident in her tone.
“Since when?” I ask. We’ve been together for the last nine months, and aside from the one time we tried—and failed—to have sex, Celeste has never once kissed me in any way other than as a friend.
Celeste lets out a soft sigh and then follows it up with a loud huff. I watch as her eyes go from appearing hurt to being cold. “Do you not understand how bad this all looks, Nick? You’re going to be raising another woman’s baby.”
“No…I’m going to be raising my baby.”
“That you had while engaged to me!”
“No,” I repeat. “He was created before us. He was born while engaged to you.”
“Everything is about to be destroyed.”
“Nothing is going to be destroyed.”
“You don’t know that.” She shakes her head. “If a scandal arises, Richard might change his mind about wanting to partner with me, or the department stores might decide that carrying my name isn’t in their best interest.”
“It’s hardly a scandal. I’m not the first guy to find out he has a son. The stores aren’t going to think like that about your name. They want you because you’re the best. And Richard Ford isn’t going to change his mind. He would be stupid to.” I take another sip from my water bottle and then add, “I thought I had your support, Celeste. You told me Reed deserved more than to have a dad who doesn’t want him.”
“I do support you,” she insists.
“Okay, good. I really appreciate it.” I throw the sheets off me and get out of bed. “I need to get ready. I’m having lunch with Killian and then going by Olivia’s to pick up Reed.”
“What? Why?”
“I’m assuming that you’re referring to me picking up my son and not me having lunch with Killian.” I smirk, and Celeste rolls her eyes. “I told you earlier in the week, I petitioned for joint custody. The room is ready.”
“It’s New Year’s Eve,” Celeste deadpans.
“And I’ll be bringing in the New Year with my son. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“I saw her at the game. That baby…it kept crying!” Her eyes go wide.
“She was at the game?”
“Yes! And the baby was screaming his head off. Maybe you should suggest she hire a nanny,” she says, scrunching her nose up in disgust.