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Falling for the Pregnant Heiress Page 15


  He wasn’t about to tell his staff that he was experimenting with different work habits to use his brain in a different way, so it wouldn’t have time to slide over to Sabrina, to wonder where she was, what she was doing, if she was hurt or angry or both.

  “Yes. Print out.”

  Makenzie looked about to argue, but Ashley gave her head a quick shake, a warning to the newbie she was training not to question the boss.

  He rattled off a litany of instructions, watching Makenzie furiously taking notes as Ashley nodded.

  But when Makenzie left the room, Ashley didn’t follow her out. She closed the door behind her and turned to Trent.

  “Are you okay?”

  He didn’t look up from his desk. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “Being stranded in a tropical storm and having to stay in someone else’s house, waiting for roads to reopen, with a woman who is something of a stranger can’t be fun.”

  But it had been fun. Some of the most fun of his life. He’d never felt more connected to another person. Never felt that complete.

  “We considered ourselves lucky to find shelter and even luckier that it had canned food in a pantry.”

  “Canned food?”

  “Peas, corn...” He shrugged. “Spam.”

  She laughed. “Spam?”

  “I’ll have you know I made a fantastic goulash.”

  Which Sabrina had loved. She hadn’t laughed at his knowledge of the easy, low-cost meal. She never put on airs. She’d had the same empty ache in her soul that he had. Almost as if they’d been searching for each other.

  Damn it! He had to stop thinking like that.

  “Anyway, I have a lot of things to do today.”

  “I thought you were taking a week at the lake to unwind.”

  “My time in Ireland was my downtime. Now I need to work.”

  Ashley nodded and left, closing the door behind her. He tossed his pen to his desk. If he let himself, he would remember every second of his time with Sabrina, every word she’d said, how different it had been to make love with her.

  So he couldn’t let himself.

  But the second he forced away thoughts of Sabrina, emptiness filled him, along with the sense that the life he was so sure gave him purpose and meaning was actually a sham.

  * * *

  Sabrina pressed a button on her security pad and opened her condo door for her mother. Maureen walked in, her face glowing, her eyes shining. She caught Sabrina in a huge hug and squeezed so hard, Sabrina thought she’d break a rib.

  “I’m so happy that you’re going to be a mom.”

  “Me, too.” She said the words brightly, but inside her heart was broken. Her soul shivered as if it had taken a beating and lost part of itself. “Would you like some coffee?”

  Maureen held up a bag. “Yes. That would go very nicely with one of these cinnamon bagels. I know we’d talked about going to brunch but I’m too eager to get a crack at turning your guest room into a nursery.”

  When Sabrina had a bottle of water and her mom had a cup of coffee with refills in a silver service complete with cream and sugar, they walked to the sofa and chair.

  Setting the silver tray on the coffee table, Maureen said, “So how are you feeling?”

  “Good. Great, actually.” She winced. “No morning sickness like Avery seems to get.”

  Her mother beamed. “Oh, lucky you!” She bit into her bagel and groaned with delight. “So good.”

  Sabrina swallowed the bite of bagel she’d taken. “The best in the city.”

  “So you’re feeling okay...”

  “Yes, but I need to be at the top of my game. An easy pregnancy will make it possible for me to get done all the things I have to do to be able to take time off work when the baby is born, as I create a nursery and playroom.”

  Finished with her bagel, Maureen rubbed her hands together. “No time like the present. Do you have a tape measure?”

  “Yes.” Sabrina walked to the kitchen island to get it. “Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate your help.”

  Especially when she was drowning in a loss so deep and so profound she wasn’t sure she could decorate a box, let alone a nursery and playroom. But even as she had that thought, she realized Trent couldn’t call his mom and ask for help. He couldn’t call her to share his pride over his successes or even to wish her merry Christmas.

  It hurt her heart to think about it, but she reminded herself that his awful past had limited his ability to have a real relationship as much as hers had. If anything, the terrible way they’d ended things had proven she’d been right all along. There was no such thing as real love.

  She fought to keep her eyes from filling with tears. There might not be any such thing as real love but oh, how she’d wanted it to be real. Trent hadn’t shown her a fairy tale. He’d shown her how two people who genuinely cared for each other could be good to each other. But that didn’t mean it was without passion and romance. No man had ever made her feel giddy with delight or weak with longing. If she had one wish for the world it would be that those feelings could be sustained—

  That people really could be connected.

  That people really could care for each other forever.

  That making love could be as warm and wonderful as what she’d felt with him.

  That mornings after could be filled with love and laughter and a closeness that brought contentment and peace.

  Until her family had called.

  Though Trent had proven that those things exist, he’d also shown her that they couldn’t be sustained and now she had to reenter the real world.

  A little smarter.

  A little stronger.

  But a hell of a lot sadder.

  She led her mom back to the second bedroom, her heart heavy. She might be pragmatic about what had happened, but it still hurt. If she hadn’t arranged for her mom to help redecorate, she might not have gotten out of bed that morning. She might not have ever gotten out of bed at all.

  She took the rest of the week off to scout wallpaper and flooring with her mom. After a long, lonely weekend, she arrived at her office on Monday morning to find the invitation to the annual fall charity ball had arrived while she was in Europe. She marked the RSVP as attending, told her assistant, Maria, to send it back and settled in her desk to work.

  But thoughts of dancing in Barcelona came back to her like a punch in the stomach, followed by memories of dancing in the Irish castle’s great room. If she closed her eyes she could feel Trent’s arms around her.

  Combing her fingers through her hair, she rose from her desk chair and turned to the view of Manhattan visible through the enormous window behind her work area.

  She’d gotten herself to the point where she could keep her brain from thinking about Trent, or wishing things were different, but memories of little things invaded her thoughts all the time.

  It might be because she’d found the blue sparkly dress in her luggage and couldn’t quite get herself to donate it to charity. It might be because she’d begun leaving her hair natural because she really did like it that way.

  No matter that Trent had hurt her, she’d found a piece of herself when she was with him. So when she returned to her desk to finish the mail and found the bill for the blue gown she’d bought in Dublin, she picked up her cell phone and dialed the number for the shop.

  “I’m Sabrina McCallan. You probably don’t remember me, but I bought a blue gown from you a little over a week ago. While I was there I tried on a red gown, too. I don’t recall the designer, but it was a long-sleeved, form-fitting dress with no back.”

  The clerk said, “Ah. I know the dress you’re talking about.”

  “I have a ball in two weeks. I’d like to wear that dress. Can I order it from you and have it shipped to New York?”

  “Absolutely.”
r />   She gave the clerk her size and then full name and address for delivery. As sad and empty as she sometimes felt, she had found herself on that trip. That was the part of the experience she had to remember. She’d get the dress that made her feel like her real self to push forward another step.

  She might forever mourn the loss of what she’d had with Trent, but she needed to move on, and what better way to help herself move on than by letting herself be the person she’d found that week.

  * * *

  Trent entered the Annual Fall Ball two weeks later, two steps behind Seth and Harper. He’d spoken with Seth a few times since returning from Ireland and Seth hadn’t mentioned Sabrina. Apparently, she’d kept what had happened between them to herself.

  He tapped Seth’s shoulder and when Seth turned around to see him, he grinned. “Hey!” He clasped Trent’s hand before bringing him in for the quick shoulder bump.

  “Good to see you guys,” he said to both Harper and Seth. “How’s married life?”

  Seth said, “Couldn’t be better,” and Harper laughed. “He’s discovering that he likes cooking.”

  “Just stupid things like macaroni and cheese that Crystal likes.”

  “He’s actually started texting helpful hints to Sabrina, though her baby won’t be able to eat food like this for a good two years.”

  Seth laughed, and Trent’s heart tumbled. He yearned to ask Seth how Sabrina was, if she’d been sick, if she was back to work...if she missed him, but he knew Seth would read into his eagerness and start making guesses. If Sabrina hadn’t wanted her family to know something had happened while they were traveling, he didn’t want to say the thing that tipped them off.

  He also didn’t want to seem like a lovestruck puppy. He was getting beyond what had happened between them. He really was. He’d actually hoped they’d see each other tonight, hold a decent conversation and maybe put a period at the end of the sentence of the story of them.

  He drifted away from Seth and Harper and was drawn into a conversation with two bankers. He managed to get away from them to chat with a few real estate guys before he finally found his table. His seatmates were from two families with old money. He took the opportunity to pick the brain of the patriarchs—a person could never have too much knowledge about markets and industry—but a flash of red caught his eye.

  He stopped talking and glanced over to see Sabrina, wearing a red gown, her hair down and a little wild.

  She turned to take her seat at the McCallan table and he gasped. There was no back on the dress. It dropped to a spot just above her perfectly shaped bottom.

  Memories of touching her, tasting her, assaulted him. If he’d been holding a fork, he would have dropped it. In the thirty seconds he stared at her, he knew why he was having so much trouble forgetting her... He didn’t want to.

  But looking at that dress, he realized it was the dress. Her declaration of independence dress. She was done following rules—

  No. She was making her own rules.

  The way he used to...

  His gaze moved from her to her brother Seth and lovely Harper, to Jake and savvy Avery, to their mom... Maureen, a tower of strength.

  Something shuffled through his mind so quickly he couldn’t process it. He gave the entire family another once-over and realized what he’d seen...

  They were fine. They were strong. Beside Avery, Jake looked invincible. Sitting next to Harper, Seth grinned in a way Trent had never seen before. Her red dress a symbol of her new sense of self, Sabrina glowed.

  So did Maureen. She’d spent forty years in a bad marriage, protecting her children, but that was over.

  No one would ever hurt this family again.

  Not even him.

  They’d fought for this life and they wouldn’t let anyone or anything snatch it away from them again.

  Realization brought him to his feet. They were fine. Strong. Happy. He wasn’t. The only thing keeping him from Sabrina was his fear that he would ruin the McCallans. Now that he knew he wouldn’t, he saw the other side of his dread. The reason he’d drawn the conclusions he had.

  Sabrina had faced down her demons on her trip to tell Pierre—No. Trent had forced her to face her demons when he hadn’t faced his.

  He didn’t fully understand what had happened between him and his stepdad but he did know he couldn’t have an honest relationship with anyone until he did.

  He took a breath. He belonged with Sabrina. But not with the questions hanging over his head.

  It was time to figure this out.

  He rose, said his goodbyes and walked into the lobby of the grand hotel. He pulled out his phone to call his driver and in five minutes his car was at the entrance. The driver opened his door and once he was settled he gave him the address of his parents’ home.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  TRENT ARRIVED AT the two-story frame house. Trimmed hedges, a neat walkway to the front door and newly painted black trim against white siding said this was the home of a proud working-class family.

  He headed up the walk to the black front door with the etched glass center panel. Though it was after ten o’clock at night, he rang the bell.

  The door opened. His mother’s jaw fell when she saw him, but he also noticed that her dark eyes lit with unguarded happiness.

  She reached out to hug him. “Trent.”

  “Mom.” He returned her hug, closing his eyes when emotion threatened to overwhelm him. They’d been a team for years after his father’s death. He’d never been closer to another person. To have been away from her for three long years, suddenly seemed absurd.

  He pulled back, opening his eyes, and saw his tall, slim stepfather. “Jim.”

  “Humph. Not Dad anymore?”

  He wanted to remind Jim that he was the one who had run him off, refused a gift, made Trent feel he’d somehow wronged him, insulted him... That was after decades of being made to feel he didn’t belong, didn’t fit.

  His mother wrung her hands and nervously said, “How about some cake and coffee?”

  His stepfather scowled. “Don’t be going to any trouble for him.”

  That was the attitude that had always made him feel less than, unwelcome. But today he saw it for what it was. Just as Sabrina had known Pierre was a narcissist, Trent finally saw his stepfather was a grouch. He might not have reached the heights of Jake, Seth and Sabrina’s dad, but they were cut from the same cloth.

  Today Trent simply wasn’t going to be moved by him.

  “Actually, Mom, I’d like a piece of cake.” He smiled at her. “And some coffee.”

  “Coming right up!”

  She scurried off and Trent didn’t wait for his stepfather to invite him into the living room that had been part of the home his mom had owned when she married Jim. He slid by him, saying, “Why don’t you and I have a bit of a talk while the coffee brews.”

  “What? You think you’re going to put me down or make fun of me while your mom’s out of the room?”

  Seriously? For the first time in his life, Trent saw that his stepfather had some real issues. He slipped off his tux jacket and sat on the worn, but comfortable sofa.

  “You know what, Jim? For decades you made me feel unwanted and tonight I finally see that maybe I shouldn’t have accepted that.”

  His stepfather’s mouth tightened.

  “I was a kid. A little boy who needed a dad and you were...” He hesitated to say it, but if they were going to get this out in the open and deal with it, he had to say it. “You were jealous of me.”

  “I wasn’t jealous of you. You were bad.”

  He shook his head. “No. I wasn’t. I remember being so excited to get a dad. I would have been anything, done anything you wanted. But you shut me down.” He drew in a breath. “But none of that matters. I’m here to say the past is the past. You may not want to, but I think w
e should start over. I love my mother. I miss her and I miss Jamie and Pete, too. They’re my family.”

  Jim squirmed a bit on his seat.

  “And I want them back. You can join us when we have dinner or go to a show or even vacation together. Actually, I think it would be fun for all of us to rent a big house in Key West. We could hire someone to take us fishing. But if you want to stay home I’ve decided that’s your choice.”

  Sounding old and tired, Jim said, “Your mother’s not going to want to go on fancy vacations or to shows—”

  “Of course I am.” His mother strode into the living room, carrying a tray with three plates holding huge slices of chocolate cake, the coffeepot and three mugs. “I never did understand what happened when Trent bought us that house. Except that you said you didn’t want it and Trent left without another word. I’d hoped it would iron itself out. Since it didn’t I’m glad Trent’s here, so we can fix it.”

  Jim rolled his eyes. “This is stupid.” He strode to the stairway. “I’m going to bed.”

  Continuing with his decision to let Jim either join them or not, his choice, Trent said, “Good night, Jim.”

  He stopped, turned and shook his head as if realizing he might as well not fight this. “Good night.”

  It wasn’t much, but it was a start. His mom handed Trent a piece of cake as Jim disappeared up the stairway.

  “I think he’s afraid of you.”

  Trent shook his head. “No. I think he’s afraid of change.”

  “He’s old-fashioned and he’s proud.”

  Trent glanced around the tidy home. “He has a lot to be proud of. I respect him and what you guys have. But he has nothing to fear from me.” He took his mother’s hand and squeezed it. “I just missed you.”

  “I missed you, too.” She smiled at Trent. “And I’m so sorry. I always noticed things were different with you and Jim. I just didn’t know how to handle it.”

  “We’re fine, Mom. I think all of us hoped it would smooth out on its own. Because it didn’t, we’re fixing it now.”

  His new rules began to form in his head. “One night a month I can either visit here or take you to dinner and a show.”