CEO's Expectant Secretary (10 page)

Elle blinked. “Tomorrow night?”

“I can’t believe you’re booked. I know Brock has only made one public appearance with you, so—”

Elle felt the stab of shame. Carol was insinuating that Brock was embarrassed by her, embarrassed that he’d married her. “I’ll have to ask him. He’s been swamped at work.”

Carol shot her a sympathetic but knowing gaze. “As he always will be. Do try to drag him away for just a little while tomorrow night. I’d like him to see my new residence. It would be embarrassing to me if he didn’t attend. I’m counting on you,” she said and smiled. “Good luck on the photo memorial. Such a sweet gesture. Ta-ta for now.”

Elle broke the news about his mother’s “invitation” when Brock finally arrived home that night and was eating a late dinner.

He paused, midbite. “You’ve got to be kidding. Of
all the ways I want to spend my nonexistent spare time, that is not one of them.”

“I know,” she said. “But she’s your mother and it’s not as if we’ll have to stay the entire time.”

He clenched his jaw. “Nothing good ever comes of being with her.”

Elle laughed under her breath. “You can’t say that. After all, your father created you and Flynn by being with her.”

Brock rolled his eyes. “Well, since then,” he amended. “I don’t understand why you’re taking her side on this.”

Elle shrugged. “It’s not a side. She’s your mother, your only living parent.”

Brock was silent for a long moment. “It makes you think about your mother and her health issues.”

“I don’t want you to have regrets,” Elle said. “Your mother may be a pain in the butt, however, she did give birth to you. And who knows what really went on between your father and mother? Even you’ve said he took her for granted.”

“Okay, we’ll go for a half hour,” he said.

Elle nodded, thinking about the little stabs Carol had taken at her during their conversation.

“You’re too quiet,” Brock said, studying her.

She took a sip of sparkling water, not wanting to reveal her insecurities.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What else did she say?”

“She wasn’t here that long,” Elle said.

“Long enough to cause trouble. What else did she say?”

Feeling pinned against the wall, Elle lifted her
shoulders. “She just made a point of saying that you and I hadn’t made but one public appearance. I was probably reading something into it.”

“Such as?” he asked.

“That you’re embarrassed by me,” she said and bit her lip.

Brock rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Well, you have to admit we married quickly. And I’m pregnant. And I used to be your assistant. These are all the kinds of things that make for conversation,” she said.

“Gossip, you mean,” he corrected. “The reason I’ve turned down invitations was to give us a chance to get used to the idea of being married. I especially didn’t want you to have any additional pressure. You’ve gone through enough during the last few months.”

“So, you’re not ashamed of me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Just very protective.”

A ripple of pleasure and excitement raced through her at the hard expression on his face. Elle had never had a man in her life so determined to protect her, and it was something she’d secretly longed for as long as she could remember. Brock’s devotion touched a core part of her and she wondered how much longer she would be able to keep herself from expressing her love for him. And when she did, would it be a treasure or burden?

Elle dressed carefully as she prepared for her mother-in-law’s housewarming. She didn’t want to feel self-conscious, but she had a feeling that nothing she wore was going to change that. She fixed her hair for the third time and dabbed on some lip gloss.

“You look beautiful,” Brock said from the doorway. “Can we get this over with?”

Elle smothered a laugh at his impatience. “Thank you and yes,” she said, walking toward him.

She liked the way her blue silk dress flowed over her body. It felt like a lovely whisper echoing down to the tops of her knees.

“You really do look nice in that dress,” Brock said. “It brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you,” she said. “So does your tie.”

He shot her a disbelieving glance. “Yeah, sure. My white shirt does amazing things for my eyes.”

“Actually, it does,” she said. “Because you’re dark-complected. The white shirt provides a contrast against your complexion, and your blue tie emphasizes your blue eyes.”

“So you say,” he said with a shrug.

“One more thing that makes you hot,” she said.

He did a double take. “Really?” he said.

“Yes, really,” she responded. “With your tanned skin and dark hair, you’re expecting brown eyes. Instead, yours are a shock. A compelling shock.”

“Nice to know I have a genetic predisposition toward keeping you attracted,” he said and extended his arm. “Ready to go?”

Just fifteen minutes later, Dirk pulled up in front of Carol’s new condominium. A desk with security and a concierge stood just inside the beautiful building.

“By the price I paid, I knew Mummy wasn’t slumming,” Brock murmured as he showed his ID to security.

“Do you regret getting this place for her?” Elle asked,
knowing that she was a big part of the reason Brock had bought his mother the condo.

“Are you kidding? I would have paid twice as much to get her out of the house,” he said as they stepped onto an elevator. “There’s a reason I spent so many nights at the apartment. But you’ve made the house feel more like a home for me,” he told Elle.

A warm feeling surged inside her. “I’m glad. I wanted to make you feel comfortable there.”

The elevator dinged their arrival on Carol’s floor. “Here we go,” Brock said. He glanced at his watch. “Thirty minutes to go.”

Less than a moment later, the door opened and a butler dressed in a tux greeted them. “Welcome to Mrs. Maddox’s home. We’re so glad for your presence. Please come in and enjoy the food, beverage and company.”

From across the room, Brock’s mother called out. “Brock, darling, bring your lovely wife here. I have some people I want her to meet.”

“Warned you,” Brock said under his breath as he slid his arm behind Elle’s back.

“Hello, Mother,” he said. “Your home is incredible,” he said, looking around. “You never cease to amaze me with what you can do in such a short time.”

Elle swallowed a chuckle, noticing his careful word choice. “I have to agree,” she said. “It’s amazing what you’ve accomplished.”

Carol preened under the praise. “Thank you both. Of course, I’ve been working day and night to make this happen. I’d like you to meet my new neighbors, the Gladstones. Eve and Bill, this is my son Brock and my new daughter-in-law, Elle. Elle is going to give me
a grandchild soon,” she said in a stage whisper. “I’m so excited, I can’t find the words.”

Brock squeezed Elle’s shoulders. “We’re very excited, too, Mr. and Mrs. Gladstone. It’s nice to meet you. I’m glad to know my mother has some wonderful neighbors.”

“Nice to meet you,” Elle said, extending her hand, a bit off-balance from Carol’s announcement of her pregnancy.

“Our pleasure,” Eve said. “And when is the little one due? Next year?”

Elle opened her mouth to reply, but Brock moved forward. “Again, nice to meet you.” He nodded to his mother. “I’m going to get Elle something to drink,” he said and guided Elle away. “Ready to go now?” he asked.

“It wasn’t that bad,” she said. “I just didn’t expect her to mention the pregnancy.”

“That’s part of her charm. The unexpected,” he said, lifting a glass of red wine from a server’s tray. “Could you bring some sparkling water for my wife?” he asked the man.

The server nodded. “Just a moment,” he said and swiveled to go to another room.

Brock glanced around. “Some of this stuff looks familiar.”

“It should,” Elle said. “She took some of it with her.”

“But she sent me an astronomical bill for decorating,” he said.

Elle shrugged. “Sorry. Not my area. I’m accustomed to shopping at outlets.”

“And I’ll take you away from all that,” Brock said, his expression softening.

“I hope not,” she said. “There’s nothing wrong with taking a pause before you spend a lot of money.”

He tilted his head to one side. “How refreshing,” he said.

The waiter returned with a glass of fizzy water. “Here you go, miss.”

“Thank you,” Elle said to the man. “She hired excellent staff,” she murmured after he left.

“As if my mother would have done anything else,” Brock said with dark humor.

“Brock, it’s been so long,” a feminine voice said from behind them.

Elle glanced at Brock’s face as she turned and saw his expression twist in pain just before it shuttered and went blank. “Claire,” he said in the most neutral voice Elle had ever heard him use. “What a surprise.”

Elle looked at the tall, beautiful blonde with a perfect shape and felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. “Claire?” she echoed, searching her memory for the name and unfortunately coming upon it.

Claire was Brock’s ex-fiancée.

T
he ravishing specimen of beauty flicked her gaze over Brock. “You’re looking good,” Claire purred. “I’ve missed you.”

Elle bristled at the woman’s obvious seductive tone.

“I didn’t know you and my mother were still in touch,” Brock said.

“She insisted I come tonight. She told me you would be here.”

Brock cleared his throat. “Claire, this is my wife, Elle.”

Claire blinked and parted her lips as if in surprise. “I thought I’d heard a rumor, but I wasn’t sure,” she said in a sad voice, then turned to Elle. “Congratulations, Elle. You got a wonderful man.”

“I know,” Elle said, forcing herself to extend her hand. “Thank you. Lovely to meet you.”

“She’s so sweet,” Claire said to Brock. “I never would have expected you to choose someone so—” She broke off and shrugged her bare, glimmering shoulders. “It’s coming back to me now. Are the two of you expecting?”

Silence stretched between them, against the background noise of social conversation and tinkling glasses.

“Yes,” Brock said. “Elle and I are very much looking forward to our first child.”

Claire stared into Brock’s eyes and her gaze seemed to say,
I could have been the mother of your child instead of her.
Claire nodded. “Congratulations. How exciting,” she said. “I see an old friend. Please excuse me.”

“Of course,” Brock said and took a long swallow of wine. “I’m ready to go.”

“Me, too,” Elle said, every bit of social courteousness sucked out of her.

Brock’s mother stepped in front of them just as they approached the door. “Leaving so soon? You just arrived,” she said with a practiced pout.

“Perhaps if you hadn’t invited my ex-fiancée and also neglected to tell her that I’m married, we might have stayed five minutes longer,” Brock said, clenching his jaw in obvious anger.

Elle’s stomach began to churn. She didn’t know what upset her more—Brock’s fury, his mother’s manipulation or the memory of Brock’s stunning ex-fiancée.

Carol’s eyes rounded in mock innocence. “But I
thought you two would enjoy seeing each other. Time to let bygones be bygones now that you’re married,” she said, shooting a glance at Elle before she looked at Brock again. “Unless it stirred up old feelings—”

Elle swallowed a gasp.

“Not from me,” Brock said. “The only thing you’re stirring up is trouble. You invited Claire to intimidate Elle.”

Carol shook her head. “Oh, now, really. How could Claire intimidate Elle?”

“Exactly,” Brock said. “Elle is my wife and the mother of my child. Claire is history. You might want to remember that. Good night,” he said, and ushered Elle through the door.

Fifteen minutes later, Elle and Brock walked inside the house. The housekeeper greeted them. “May I get something for you?”

“No, thank you,” Brock said.

“I’m fine,” Elle said.

“Are you sure you wouldn’t like some sparkling water?” Anna asked with a gentle smile.

“No, thank you,” Elle said, feeling as if she’d lost every bit of her sparkle. “I’ll just get a bottle upstairs. You’re kind to ask, though. Thank you.”

She and Brock climbed the stairs and Elle stared into the mirror as she removed her earrings and necklace. She felt like such a fool. She’d tried so hard to look pretty, but Brock’s ex was at a totally different level. The woman was breathtaking.

“You okay?” Brock asked.

“She could be a model,” Elle said.

“That doesn’t mean she was right for me.”

“But she was perfect, gorgeous. I bet she’s intelligent. You wouldn’t tolerate anything less. How could—”

“She was extremely demanding. I knew it wouldn’t work,” he said.

Her heart sank to her knees. Elle turned to him. “And I’m not demanding,” she said. “I’m grateful. So maybe it will work.”

“Elle, come on, this is exactly what my mother wanted you to worry about,” Brock said, walking toward her.

She put her hands out in front of her. “No, no. I need a few moments. Hours, maybe.” She shook her head and fought the pain that wrenched inside her. “I know you married me because I got pregnant. But are you really counting on me to be the grateful little wife who doesn’t ask too much of you?”

“Of course not,” he said. “You always challenged me. That was part of the reason I couldn’t resist you. You affected me that way from the beginning. I broke all my rules for you, Elle. If I’d followed my own policies, I would have had you transferred. But being with you made me feel like…I’d found home.” He shrugged. “You can believe me or not. It’s your choice.”

She stared into his face and saw the raw truth. He loved her, even if he couldn’t say it yet. It shocked and comforted her at the same time. “I believe you,” she whispered, and flew into his arms.

He held her tight. “Listen, the next two weeks will be a crunch. But after that, you and I will take a break and go away.”

“The mountain cabin?” she asked.

“Anywhere you want,” he said and pressed his mouth
against hers. He slid his hand to her belly. “I never had so much to live for before,” he said. “How’d I manage this?”

“You got lucky,” she said and smiled.

“Yeah, I did.”

Brock breezed through his morning, accomplishing tasks far faster than usual. Lunchtime came and he called Elle. She was eating a sandwich with her mom and planned to visit her grandfather that afternoon.

The latter gave him a twinge, but he ignored it. “I’ll see you tonight,” he said.

“Don’t work too hard,” she said, and the smile in her voice flooded him with warmth.

He roared through the afternoon. The only thing that stopped him was the sight of Logan Emerson walking into his office with a solemn expression on his face. “There’s been a leak.”

“About what?” Brock demanded, frustration soaring through him. He’d already eliminated one threat. What else could be at work here?

“The Prentice account,” Logan said. “Someone got your files and shared them with Golden Gate.”

Brock frowned. “I still don’t understand what information you’re talking about.”

“Did you take anything home?” Logan asked.

“A flash drive and one file, three weeks ago,” Brock said.

Logan lifted one brow. “Enough to give Golden Gate an edge.”

Brock pictured the flash drive and file sitting on his
desk at home, right after he and Elle had gotten married. His stomach fell to his feet.

Elle put the final stamp of approval on dinner, which consisted of Brock’s favorite red wine, beef burgundy, potatoes, broccoli and bread. Even though one of the staff would gladly do it, she lit the candles on the table and arranged the roses herself. She had never felt more hopeful, more in love. Maybe, just maybe, it would all work out. Her heart skipping a beat, she took a deep breath and laughed at herself.
Calm down,
she told herself. This was just another night of married life. The best kind of married life, a little voice inside her said.

She heard the sound of footsteps and her heart raced again. Brock was home. She looked up, unable to keep from beaming at him. “Welcome home,” she said.

His face was blank, but anger blazed in his eyes. His mouth was set with bitterness, his jaw clenched. “When did you tell your grandfather about the new plans for the Prentice account?” he asked.

Elle felt her blood drain to her feet. She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“Weeks ago, I brought home a file and a flash drive. I left it here for one day. One day,” he repeated. “Convenient for you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Brock,” she said.

“There’s no need to lie. You’ve got me. You’ve got our marriage. It’s not as if I can do anything about the fact that you stole information from me again. I just want to know when you did it. That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Elle felt nauseous. “I didn’t tell anyone anything
after that day you came to my mother’s house. I don’t know what you’re talking about. You wouldn’t even discuss the new Prentice campaign with me. Don’t you remember?”

“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.”