As he changed Neariah, he said, “When we get back to D.C., you need to see a doctor.”
“I'll be okay,” she replied as she took a sip of the soda. “I hope it's not a touch of the flu.”
He tossed the dirty diaper into a plastic bag and then into the trash and said, “Until we know for sure, I'll handle the rug rat. I can't have both of you sick.”
Keilah watched her husband's tender interaction with their daughter. Neariah's eyes were bright and full of love as she smiled up at her dad.
“I can handle this, but I agree with you about not wanting to make Neariah sick.”
He put his daughter back into her car seat and handed her a cup of juice. He climbed back behind the driver seat and asked, “Is everybody set?”
With juice running down her chin, Neariah pulled the cup out of her mouth and said, “Da-dee!”
He looked in the rearview mirror and said, “That's my girl.” He patted Keilah on the thigh and asked, “What about you, babe?”
She closed her eyes and slightly reclined her seat. “I'm good. I'm just ready to get home so I can lie down.”
He turned on the ignition and said, “Hang on a little bit longer and I'll have you home in no time.”
Two and a half hours later, the Stones pulled into their garage.
“I've never been so happy to see my house,” Keilah said as she unlocked the door and stepped into the kitchen. “I'll let Target out if you can get the luggage.”
He followed her into the house and placed Neariah in her high chair. Keilah escorted Target out into the backyard so he could relieve himself. When she came back in, she sat down at the kitchen table and held her head in her hands as her husband finished bringing in the luggage.
Ramsey pulled his wife out of her chair and held her in his arms.
“I'm worried about you.”
“I've never felt like this before.”
Ramsey smiled down at her to try and lighten the mood. “You're sick, and I haven't even given you my Christmas gift yet,” he replied.
She laid her head against his chest and said, “I haven't given you my gift, either.”
He kissed her forehead and said, “We can do it later, when you're up to it. For now I want you to go upstairs and relax while Neariah and I make you some soup. It's chilly in here, so I'll be up to build you a fire.”
“I'm not hungry right now,” she replied. “Go ahead and feed Neariah first, and maybe then I'll fell like eating.”
“Regardless, you have to put something on your stomach. Now go,” he ordered her.
Keilah made her way up the stairs, with Target following close behind. Ramsey called his parents to let them know they were home and then made dinner for Neariah and soup for his wife.
Upstairs, Keilah couldn't believe how fast she had got sick. It was definitely flu season, but she'd made sure she got the flu shot a few months ago. Now her concern was Neariah's health. She wanted to rule some other things out before going through the hassle of making a doctor's appointment. In the meantime she would take a shower and let her husband pamper her until she felt better.
Thirty minutes later Ramsey entered the room with Neariah in one arm and a bowl of hot chicken soup in his other hand.
“Soup's on,” he joked as he walked in the room. “How's my patient?”
“I'm pregnant,” Keilah blurted out with a dazed look on her face.
Stunned, Ramsey sat Neariah on the bed and the soup on the nightstand.
“Pregnant?” he repeated. “How do you know? When did that happen?”
She held the results out to him and said, “I took the home test, and it came back positive.”
He stared at the stick in disbelief. They wanted more kids, but he hadn't planned to have another one so soon. Neariah was only one year old.
Silence surrounded the couple. Neariah crawled over to her mother's lap and started playing with her earrings.
“Are you going to be okay with this? I know it's not what we planned,” Keilah said.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and said, “Of course, I didn't expect us to have another baby so soon, but we'll deal with it.”
Tears spilled out of her eyes as she whispered, “I'm sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he asked, recognizing that his comment had hurt his wife's feelings. “I'm not blaming you. You're my wife. I love you, and I did have a part in this.”
Keilah sat next to her husband in silence while Neariah continued to play with her earrings.
Ramsey put his hand over her abdomen and said, “I'm the one who should apologize. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. You and Neariah are my life, and now I'm going to have another little person to love.”
She turned to him and looked into his concerned eyes. “I didn't plan this, Ramsey. I take my pill every day... .”
He put his finger over her lips to silence her. “Sweetheart, I'm cool. Stop trying to explain, because there's nothing to explain. It's cool. Okay?”
She smiled and said, “Okay. I guess I'm just a little emotional and shocked. Maybe my hormones are already kicking in. I don't know.”
He picked up the bowl of soup and held a spoonful up to her lips. “Don't worry. My soup will fix you right up. Now, open wide, li'l momma.”
Keilah giggled and opened her mouth so her husband could feed her his hot chicken soup.
Chapter Fourteen
Keilah visited her doctor's office the next day, which confirmed her pregnancy. However, she and Ramsey decided to wait a while before breaking the news to their family members. In the meantime it was business as usual around the Stone household. Keilah's morning sickness had diminished with the help of some peppermint tea, suggested to her by her doctor.
With New Year's Eve a day away, the agency had increased its staff for upcoming parties and celebrations. It was a prime time of year for bad things to happen to their clients, so they wanted to make sure their agents were prepped and focused on their responsibilities
While Keilah was going over the schedule in her office, the receptionist called her line and announced that she had a visitor.
“A journalist?” Keilah asked the receptionist. “Why does he want to interview me?”
“He didn't say, Keilah. Do you want me to have him make an appointment to come back another time?”
She closed her laptop and said, “No, take him into the conference room. I'll be right there.”
Keilah walked into Ramsey's office and said, “There's a reporter in the conference room, waiting to interview me.”
“A reporter from what source?” he asked as he stood and slid into his jacket.
“I'm not sure.”
He took her by the arm and led her down the hallway and said, “Well, we're about to find out.”
When they entered the conference room, the journalist greeted the couple and gave them his business card.
Ramsey tucked the business card into his pocket and asked, “What can we do for you, Mr. Wayman of the
Washington Press?
”
The journalist ignored Ramsey and immediately turned to Keilah. “Mrs. Stone, I'm here to get your side of the story on your relationship with recent POW and war hero Michael Monroe. Sources tell me that he is bisexual and that you had a love child as a result of the relationship. Do you care to comment?”
Before Keilah could respond, Ramsey stepped in front of his wife and angrily said, “Have you lost your goddamn mind? This is my wife you're talking to! Why the hell would you come in here with that bullshit?”
Startled, the journalist took a step back and said, “I'm sorry, Mr. Stone. I don't mean to upset you or Mrs. Stone. Michael Monroe is a national hero, and people want to know all about him and his life.”
Ramsey poked him in the chest with his finger, pushing him hard against the wall. “There is no story here, and if I see one damn word implicating my wife in a relationship with Michael Monroe, I will snap your neck.”
“You don't have to get hostile, Mr. Stone,” the journalist said as he backed away from him.
Keilah could see the vein in Ramsey's neck pulsating, so she knew he could lose it at any second and seriously hurt the man. Thus, she gave his hand a loving squeeze to try to calm him down.
“Mr. Wayman, I'm sorry you came all the way down here with this nonsense. I keep my private life private, and I think the story you need to write should honor our military, not exploit them,” Keilah calmly suggested.
“Does that mean you're denying the accusations that you were involved with a man in a bisexual love triangle ?” The journalist was doing what newshounds were known for doing best: aggravating the hell out of people.
Ramsey tried to calm himself and still remain professional, but his eyes were glazed over and they were as red as fire. He took a breath and said, “Listen, bro. I don't give a damn what you print about Monroe. That's between you and him, but I swear to God, if print anything linking my wife and child to the story, it'll be the last story you ever write. Do you understand where I'm coming from?”
The journalist was used to threats, so he took a chance and turned to Keilah one more time. “Mrs. Stone, is it true that you shot Mr. Monroe in a jealous rage after catching him in bed with another man?”
Ramsey had heard enough. He grabbed the journalist by the neck and threw him out of the conference room into the hallway, slamming his body against the wall.
“Get the hell out of my office!” Ramsey yelled at him as he charged him.
Two agents walking down the hallway heard the commotion and quickly ran over to back up their boss. They took the journalist by the arms and quickly dragged him toward the lobby, handing him over to the security guards.
“Mr. Stone, is there a problem?” Trevor asked.
“Yes. Get this man off the premises, and if he shows up again, you have my permission to beat his ass before calling the police.”
With a smirk on his face the journalist breathlessly stated, “I guess this interview is over, huh?”
Ramsey looked at his two agents and the security guards and said, “Escort his ass to his car and make sure he vacates the property.”
“Yes, sir,” one of the security guards replied with a smile as he and one of the agents escorted the journalist onto the elevator and off the property.
Ramsey turned and marched back into his office, with Keilah following close behind. She closed the door behind them as he sat down at his desk.
“Find Michael Monroe and get his ass down here right now. I want to know who he's been talking to and why he's running his damn mouth about his private life.”
Keilah massaged her husband's shoulders and said, “When Michael was here apologizing, he said he was working on trying to right all the wrong he's done to people. He mentioned that some things might hit the media and if investigators came around to handle it however I wanted to.”
“Investigators? Are you sure he said investigators and not journalists?” Ramsey asked.
“I'm positive.”
“This doesn't make sense. Why would investigators come around here, and why didn't you tell me?”
She continued to massage his shoulders and said, “I had no idea he was talking about something like this.”
Ramsey covered his face with his hands. Keilah turned his chair and removed his hands so she could look into his weary eyes.
“Sweetheart, don't stress over this. You're going to give yourself a heart attack.”
He frowned and said, “How can I
not
stress? I'm not going to sit back and let that clown or anybody like him disrespect my family and get you stressed out. You're carrying my child.”
“Your baby is and will be just fine. I was pregnant with Neariah through that shoot-out back home, and she turned out just fine, remember?”
“I don't know. We might need to check her diaper for a nine-millimeter,” he joked. “I want to know why that reporter showed up, asking all those bullshit questions.”
Keilah headed toward the door and said, “I'll call Teresa Randolph and see if she will tell me where he is or give me his number.”
Ramsey picked up the telephone and said, “I'm serious, Keilah. I want him in here today.”
“I'm working on it, boss,” she replied before closing the door.
Ramsey dialed Kyle's number and got his voice mail, so he left a message. “Kyle, I need to talk to you as soon as possible. It's about Michael Monroe, and I need to know everything you can find on a Jeremy Wayman at the
Washington Press.
”
After leaving the message, he twirled around in the chair and looked out over the city below and thought about the storm brewing in the distance.
Keilah returned to her office and dialed Teresa Randolph's number and waited for her to answer.
“Hello?”
“Mrs. Randolph, this is Keilah Stone. How are you?”
With a smile in her voice, she answered, “Keilah! What a nice surprise. How are you, dear?”
“I'm fine, Mrs. Randolph.”
“Keilah, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Teresa?”
Keilah hesitated and then said, “Okay, Teresa. I need to get in touch with Michael. It's urgent. Do you have his number?”
“Of course I do, Keilah,” she replied. “Is everything okay? You sound a little tense.”
“Everything is fine,” Keilah lied. “I just need to talk to Michael.”
She didn't want to worry her unnecessarily, until she found out why Michael would be so careless with their private life, but she needed answers ... now.
Teresa gave Keilah the number and then said, “Keilah, I would love to do lunch one day soon. I'll always hold you near and dear to my heart, even though your relationship with my nephew didn't work out.”
“That's sweet and I appreciate you not taking it personally.”
“You're welcome, “Teresa replied. “Call me after the holidays and let me know when will be a good time.”
“I'll do that, Teresa, and thanks for giving me Michael's number.”
The two ladies chatted a few more minutes before hanging up.
Keilah stared down at the number, contemplating dialing it. She had hoped that Michael was finally out of her life, but the incident today had shown her otherwise. Now all she wanted was to get to the bottom of this reporter's inquiry before Ramsey killed someone, so she dialed the number. After two rings it went into his voice mail. As soon as she got the beep to leave a message, she spoke with a firm tone of voice.
“Michael, this is Keilah. I need to see you as soon as possible. It's urgent, so please call me back when you get this message. I don't care what time it is. Just make sure you call me back,” she instructed before leaving her number on the voice mail. After hanging up the telephone, she returned to Ramsey's office, sat down in the chair in front of his desk, and crossed her legs. He was on the telephone, and as soon as he ended the call, he rubbed his eyes.
“Did you get in touch with Michael?”
“No, I got his voice mail, but I left a message.”
He looked at his watch and then said, “It's getting late. I'm tired, you're tired, and we both need some peace and quiet.”
“I know, baby. Sometimes I feel like we're spinning our wheels in the sand.”
He smiled and said, “You know, we still haven't exchanged Christmas gifts.”
She blushed and softly replied, “I know. With the shock of the pregnancy, preparing for New Year's Eve, I guess we both got sidetracked.”
“I agree, but not anymore,” he said as he stood and turned off his computer. “Let's go. I've had enough for one day. We have the team set and ready to go, and I want to take you out to dinner. Are you up to it?”
She also stood, and as she was walking out, she looked back over her shoulder and said, “I'm always ready to eat, and I'm craving a big, juicy steak.”
“Steak?” he asked as he opened the door to let her walk out ahead of him. “That's different. I thought you were watching your intake of red meat.”
“I am, but tonight I want a steak and it better be good.”
As they walked down the hallway, Ramsey pulled out his cell phone and tried to call Kyle again, but this time for pleasure, not business. He wanted to invite him and Tori to join them for dinner. They hadn't seen them since that surprise dinner at their home, and the couple was anxious to catch up with them to see how their relationship was going. Little did the Stones know that Tori and Kyle had been inseparable since their intimate encounter. In fact, unbeknownst to the Stones, the new lovers were presently tangled up together in the soft sheets of Kyle's bed.
“Someone's really trying to get in touch with you,” Tori stated breathlessly as Kyle covered her mouth with hot kisses.
Frustrated, Kyle looked at the phone and said, “It's just Ramsey. I'll call him back later. I'm busy right now.”
Tori giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck. “And I like the way you work.”
He winked at her and said, “Then you're going to love this presentation,” just before disappearing under the sheets.