CEO's Expectant Secretary Page 14

  “I remember,” he said. “I also remember I made the huge mistake of leaving work at home. I’m sure that would have been too tempting for you to resist.”

  Elle shook her head. “You’re wrong. I didn’t even see that file or your flash drive. And if I had, I wouldn’t have touched them. I couldn’t stand any more deception. I wanted things to be clean and honest between you and me. You have to believe me. You have to.”

  “Why should I believe you now?” he asked. “You spent months deceiving me while you went to bed with me. I’m starting to wonder if the pregnancy wasn’t some part of your plan. If you tied yourself to me with a child, I couldn’t possibly prosecute you. Right?”

  Elle lifted her hand to her throat, feeling it close, nearly depriving her of oxygen. She shook her head. “Brock, you can’t possibly think that. Not about our baby. Not about me.”

  His gaze dipped to her still-small belly. “I know that when it came to a test of your loyalties, you chose your grandfather.”

  “No, I chose my mother,” she cried. “What else could I do? Can you honestly tell me that if your father had been ill and you had been put in the same situation, that you wouldn’t have done the same thing I did?”

  “I would never have been in your situation because I would have made sure I was never at someone else’s mercy like that,” he said.

  Elle gasped at his words. Somewhere beneath her pain, anger roared to the surface. “Well, how nice for you that you’ve never been vulnerable. How nice that you were born to privilege, educated at only the best schools and eased into a high-profile job.”

  “I fought for that job,” Brock said. “My father didn’t give me any passes for my work at Maddox.”

  “Like I said, good for you,” she said. “I’ll tell you this much. If I had it to do all over again, I would make the same horrible choice because my mother’s life depended on it. I’m sorry I hurt you because I did fall in love with you. Helplessly, hopelessly. Then the pregnancy took me by surprise.”

  He stared at her without an ounce of compassion. “It’s convenient for you to bring up love at this point when you’ve never mentioned it before,” he said. “I’m staying at the apartment tonight. Congratulations on fooling me twice, Elle. Sleep well. It must be nice to be able to lie and sleep as easily as you do.” Then he turned and walked out.

  The knot of emotion in her throat threatened to choke her. She wanted to call after him and defend herself, but her voice completely failed. How could he believe she had gone behind his back again?

  Because she’d done it before, just as he’d said. For months.

  So why should he believe her? What evidence had she given him to believe the contrary? The answer made her so nauseous she dashed to the bathroom and was sick to her stomach. Leaning against the sink, she rinsed her mouth and pressed a cool, wet cloth to her head.

  She put herself in Brock’s place. With their history, would she have believed him?

  Even though she knew in her heart of hearts that she loved Brock and would never deceive him again, she could see why he wouldn’t believe her. The reality made her eyes burn and her chest hurt as if someone had torn out her heart. A sob bubbled up from somewhere deep inside her and she began to cry huge, wrenching sobs. She cradled her arms around her chest to hold herself together, but she felt as if she were splitting apart.

  Of all the things she’d had in her life, she’d lost the most important. The promise, the dream of something different for her and Brock and their baby.

  Elle didn’t eat one bite that night. She couldn’t have forced it down her throat. She was in such terrible emotional pain and shock that she didn’t know what to do. Should she leave? Should she stay?

  She took a hot, calming shower, dressed in a soft nightshirt and crawled into bed in Brock’s room. She could still smell just a trace of his scent when she closed her eyes. A tidal wave of memories swept over her and she couldn’t stop herself from crying again. She’d thought there wasn’t one more tear she could shed tonight, but she was wrong. Finally, she exhausted herself and fell asleep.

  Awakening in the morning with swollen eyes, she immediately remembered everything that had happened the previous night and pulled the sheet over her head. Was there any way she could turn back time and fix everything?

  Not unless she was a genie or a witch. Brock seemed bent on believing she was the latter. She pulled back the sheet and gazed out the windows. Another gray, foggy morning in San Francisco. Natives knew the truth about the bay’s climate. Fog, fog and more fog. She slid out of the bed and peeked through the blinds at the gray day.

  Her heart still hurt as if she’d had major surgery. Biting her lip, she knew she needed to figure out what to do. If Brock despised her as much as he seemed, then he would never trust her. What kind of marriage could they have? What kind of parents would they be together?

  Elle refused to have the same kind of relationship with Brock that his parents had appeared to have. That couldn’t be good for anyone. No matter what happened between her and Brock, at least the baby would have a father. That was more than she’d ever had.

  Her mind was spinning and she couldn’t stop it. Scenario after scenario flew through her mind. What would she do? How would she live? She didn’t mind going back to work. In this situation, she would welcome it. But would Brock try to take the baby from her? She’d never, ever let that happen.

  Her stomach growled despite the fact that she couldn’t imagine eating. She needed to eat, she told herself, for the baby if nothing else. She took another shower in hopes of cleansing herself of the dirty feeling that covered her like a veil of pollution.

  Possibilities, choices chugging through her mind, she went downstairs. The housekeeper greeted her with a concerned expression. “Is everything okay? Your meal was left untouched.”

  “Mr. Maddox had a crisis at work,” Elle said and heaven knew it was the truth.

  “Oh, what a shame,” the housekeeper said, folding her hands in front of her sympathetically. “Can I get you anything for breakfast?”

  “Thank you,” Elle said. “I’d like something bland. Toast and jelly.”

  “I’ll bring a scrambled egg on the side and some oatmeal just in case. Perhaps a little fruit,” the housekeeper continued. “And just a couple of slices of bacon. Protein for the little one.”

  Although her stomach seemed the size of a pea, Elle managed to down a few bites of egg, toast and even a strip of bacon. She swallowed several sips of icy fresh-squeezed orange juice and said a mental goodbye to the notion of having staff at her beck and call. That wasn’t the worst of her losses, she knew.

  She decided to explain her plans to the housekeeper later, after she had packed. Upstairs, on the bed she’d shared with Brock, she pulled out two suitcases and began to put clothes inside. She found a box for her favorite books and keepsakes she’d brought from her mother’s.

  She heard the doorbell ring but ignored it. Elle knew she couldn’t stay under the circumstances. Brock would never trust her and she wouldn’t subject him, her or her baby to the life of misery their enforced togetherness would create. She wouldn’t be able to bear his bitterness and resentment and the effect of his hatred of her on their child. The thought of it wrenched at her again.

  “Oh, hello,” Brock’s mother said from the doorway. “Anna said you were napping, but I heard sounds. I hope you don’t mind that I came upstairs,” Carol said. “I just wanted to thank you and Brock for attending my little open house the other night.” Carol stopped, finally taking in the sight of Elle’s suitcases and boxes. “Oh, my goodness, you’re not packing, are you?”

  Elle bit the inside of her lip. “Brock and I have realized we’re not well suited, so I’ve decided it’s best if I leave.”

  “Oh, dear,” Carol said, her voice oozing sympathy. “I’m so very sorry.” She walked into the room, dressed in her couture of the day. “But I totally understand. Not everyone is cut out to be the wife of a Maddox. I’m not sure
I really was, either,” Carol confessed in a soft voice. “If I’d known in the beginning what I learned just after a year, I’m not sure I would have—” She broke off and shrugged. “Well, you know what I’m saying. Can I help you pack?”

  Elle blinked at the woman’s offer. “Uh—”

  “I’m sure it’s difficult for you,” Carol said, moving to Elle’s side and picking up a book. “Is this yours?”

  “Yes,” Elle said, watching as she put the book in a box.

  “I’m so sorry that things didn’t work out with you and Brock, but again, I understand,” Carol said. “Between the Prentice account and the threat from Golden Gate, Brock just can’t see straight. It seems the Prentice account is a twenty-four-hour-a-day job. Maddox is always having to come up with a new campaign.”

  Elle’s antennae went on alert. “New campaign for Prentice?” she asked, pasting a bland look on her face. “What was wrong with the old one?”

  “With an account like Prentice, they’re always demanding something new. Brock’s most recent idea may cost some bucks, though,” Carol said, picking up a stuffed monkey. “Is this yours?”

  “From my mother,” Elle said. “I’ve had him since I was a child.”

  “How sweet,” Carol said and put the monkey in the box. “Is this everything?”

  “Not quite,” Elle said. “I’m curious. How did you hear about the new campaign for Prentice? I didn’t know a thing about it.”

  For a microsecond Carol froze as if she knew she’d been caught. Then she shrugged. “I thought everyone knew.”

  “Of course everyone didn’t know,” Elle said, her anger growing. “Only someone who’d looked at Maddox’s plans would know about the changes. Only someone who’d had a chance to look at papers and a flash drive left at home by the Maddox CEO.”

  Carol gasped. “Whatever are you saying?”

  “Hello, Mother,” Brock said from the doorway, shocking Elle with his entrance. She gaped at him, wondering what had made him return home so early. He shot a glance at her full of forgiveness and repentance that made her heart turn over.

  “Why, hello, Brock,” Carol said with forced happiness. “What a surprise.”

  “You were the one,” he said, walking toward his mother.

  Carol gave a one-shoulder shrug and steadied herself on an end table. The woman suddenly appeared frail to Elle. “What are you talking about?”

  “You looked at my file. You made a copy of my flash drive,” he said.

  Carol shrugged again, but this time she backed away. “What’s that? What file?”

  “The file for the Prentice account. You sent it to Golden Gate,” he said. “You wanted me to believe Elle sent it, but all along, it was you.”

  “It could have been her. She lied to you before you married her. She could have brought down Maddox Communications,” Carol said, her eyes glinting with fear and fury.

  “Why did you do this?” he demanded. “It would only hurt you in the end.”

  “I knew you would find a way to top Golden Gate Promotions, but your marriage was ruining my future. Look at what it’s already done to me. I’ve moved into a small condo! And I know the terms of your father’s will. My income has been cut as a result of your bastard child.”

  Elle stared at the woman in shock. How could one person hold so much vindictiveness and evil? She almost couldn’t comprehend it.

  Brock’s eyes blazed with fury, but his voice was deadly calm. “I’m done with you. I never want to see you again. You won’t get one more penny from me. I’m sorry you’ve turned into such a bitter woman, but I won’t have you contaminating my marriage. Now, get out.”

  Carol narrowed her eyes at him in impotent rage, then stomped from the room. Her heavy footsteps echoed down the stairs and the sound of a door slamming vibrated throughout the house.

  Brock took a deep breath and looked at Elle. “I was wrong.”

  Elle nearly laughed. “You think so?”

  He walked toward her. “I am so very, very sorry. I should have believed you and from now on, I will,” he promised.

  Elle tore her gaze from his to glance at her luggage, trying to hang on to her plan to move away from him and make a new life for her baby and herself. “We have so much baggage,” she whispered. “How can you ever trust me?”

  “I already do,” he said. “I trusted you when I shouldn’t have. When I was told by a professional that you were deceiving me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I forced the P.I. to give me evidence that you were selling secrets to Golden Gate. Not until he provided me with ironclad proof did I believe it.”

  Elle felt her eyes burn with tears. “I hate it that I lied to you. I hate myself for it.”

  “You need to forgive yourself,” Brock said. “I forgive you.”

  Elle looked up, searching his gaze. “How can you?”

  “Because I know you were doing the best you could. I know you were tortured about it,” he said.

  “I was,” she agreed. “When I met you, I fell so hard for you. In my grandfather’s plan, everything was supposed to remain business, but you blew me away. You were everything I’d wished for in a man, but had never found.”

  “And you were everything I wanted in a woman, but felt I’d never find. When I made love to you, I felt like I was coming home,” Brock said, pulling her into his arms. “I never knew what love was before I met you.”

  Elle’s heart stopped in her chest. “Love?”

  He nodded. “Love. I was willing to risk it all for you. Even Maddox Communications. Logan tried to talk me into prosecuting, but I refused. It wasn’t just about the baby. It was about the connection you and I shared. I knew I’d never find that again. When you told me that you’d agreed to spy for your grandfather so that your mother would get her treatments, I could only hope you felt that strongly about me.”

  “I do,” Elle said. “I would do anything for you, Brock. I love you. More than anything. I want to build a life together.”

  “Then stay,” he said, pressing his mouth against hers. “Stay forever.”

  Epilogue

  The jazz band played in the background of the Maddox Communications party. They were celebrating the merger of Maddox and Golden Gate Promotions with Brock as the CEO. Elle slid a hand behind her grandfather’s back and gave him a hug. He felt so frail to her. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Her grandfather smiled. “It was meant to be. Your husband is the future of both Maddox Communications and Golden Gate Promotions. My sons didn’t have the drive, but Brock, he does.”

  Elle glanced at Brock across the room as he chatted with his brother and felt a rush of love. Their relationship had grown by leaps and bounds during the last few weeks.

  “I should sit down,” her grandfather said.

  “Of course,” she said, feeling remiss. “Can I get you something else to drink?”

  “This water is fine,” he said and nodded as he sat. “Go see to your guests.”

  Elle dropped a kiss on his forehead. For all the pain and suffering Athos had caused, he had led her to Brock and she was thankful for that. She had walked just a few steps when she was stopped by Evan and Celia Reese.

  “How is life with the CEO of the newly merged Maddox Communications and Golden Gate Promotions?” Evan asked. “Are you keeping him in line?”

  “Ha,” Elle said, but smiled because Brock had made a special point to spend more time with her lately. “You two look like you’re doing great. I’m so happy you could come to the party.”

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” Celia said, pushing her red hair behind her ear as she gazed affectionately at her husband. “This is actually a stopover. We’re going to the French Riviera. Evan is determined to give me a honeymoon I’ll never forget.”

  “It’s hard being married to an overachiever, isn’t it?” Elle joked.

  Celia laughed. “You bet. Good luck with the baby.”

  “Thanks,” Elle said and moved toward Bro
ck. She noticed he and his brother were looking intently at their cell phones.

  “What are they doing?” Elle asked as Flynn’s wife appeared at her side.

  “It’s the battle of the ultrasounds,” Renee said. “We may know the sex of our baby, but yours is set to disco. I think it’s a draw.”

  Elle laughed. “How are you feeling?” she asked.

  “Excited,” Renee said, stroking her full pregnancy bump. “The doctor says my due date will be here before I know it, but it feels like forever.”

  “Any names yet?” Elle asked.

  “We’re still playing with the first name, but I want Flynn for her middle name,” Renee said.

  “I love that,” Elle said.

  Renee nodded. “It’s good, isn’t it? What about you and Brock?”

  “We find out the sex for sure at the end of this week. If it’s a boy, we’ll include Brock’s father’s name somehow,” she said.

  Renee tilted her head. “Your mother looks great.”

  Elle’s heart squeezed tight as she looked at her mother standing several feet away, tapping her foot as she enjoyed the party and the music. “Thank you. She’s come a long way.”

  “There are our brides,” Flynn interjected, clinking his beer against Brock’s beer bottle. “We did good, didn’t we?”

  Brock met Elle’s gaze and she felt a melting sensation. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “I won the ultrasound contest.”

  “That’s a lie,” Flynn said. “I know the sex and my baby is going to beat you to the punch.”

  Before Brock could dispute his brother, Jason Reagert and his very pregnant wife, Lauren, approached them. “If we’re going to talk about winning the time game, Lauren and I will beat both of you,” Jason, newly promoted to vice president, said.

  Lauren, in her ninth month of pregnancy, glowed with love and happiness. “That’s right,” she said. “Our baby boy could make his appearance any minute.”

  “Stop making me nervous,” Brock said. “Do we have a doctor in the crowd?”