Page 58 of Snowed In with the Bosses

“Let us do our job. Let Clara rest. That’s all for now.” Dr. Branson turned with a whirl of his white coat.

“We should go back.” Alexander looked past me to Liam. “Stay with her. Report back every few hours.”

Liam pretended to doff an imaginary hat. “With pleasure.” He was far too upbeat for the situation, but I’d known Liam long enough to recognize the white-knuckled grip that held his fear at bay.

“Come on, Ethan.” Alexander’s hand on my elbow had the surreal feel of a dream. He led me from the hospital and back into the car, his hand on the back of my head as he pushed me into the passenger seat. “She’s okay.” He bent at the waist, his body blocking my view of the hospital. “Damn it, Ethan. Breathe.” He slapped me lightly on the cheek.

I swam up out of my emotions, gasping and choking all at the same time.

“Can you keep it together?” His question should bother me, but I’d turned numb. He darted around the car and into the driver’s seat. The drive back to the office blurred between breaths. I concentrated on each one, the feel of the oxygen in my lungs and the relief at Dr. Branson’s words.

I pushed aside Alexander’s hand when he extended it to me, uncertain how long we’d been sitting in the car outside the office. We made our way into the lounge, our steps slow and hollow in the empty space, going on and on until we reached the kitchen.

Questions assaulted us as soon as we opened the door. Robbie whistled, the shriek shutting up everyone in the room.

Alexander eased his hands into his pockets, taking that business pose Clara loved so much. “Clara will be on sick leave for a few days. It’s nothing too serious, so I don’t want you to worry.” His smile was the slick one he used in meetings, the same kind doctors used when they wanted you to trust them.

“More food poisoning?” A voice piped up from the back.

I recognized it but was too slow to call Allan out.

Alexander kept his smile in place. This was why he remained the CEO after all these years. He was damned good at his job. “No. No food poisoning. I’m afraid I can’t discuss Clara’s medical condition without her consent, but I can say she’s awake and recovering.” He backed us out of the room, his palm spread over my stomach to guide me.

What was wrong with me? Clara was the one in trouble, but I was the only one falling apart.

Because I loved her. I loved her and the thought of losing her destroyed me. I would not last a day without her.

We crashed through the door and into the small break room where a single serve coffee maker and a dozen or so small tables occupied the space.

Alexander whirled on me. “What the fuck do we do?”

The explosive question knocked me back a step and cleared my mind. I’d been so lost in my own fear that I missed Alexander’s.

He shook so hard his cuff links rattled. “I can’t lose her, Ethan.Wecan’t lose her.” Alexander, the strongest, most emotionally distant man I’d ever known, crashed into a chair and dropped his head between his knees.

He’d held it together for me, and now he needed my strength. I lowered myself into the seat beside him and grabbed his shoulder in a tight squeeze. “The doctor said it’s a high-risk pregnancy, but we can handle that. Clara will get all the rest she needs. We won’t lose her.” If there was a God, I prayed he’d hear me and let me keep my word. “We’re all worried. We’re the reason she’s in this position, but we’re in it together. Family.” I pulled him toward me, until his shoulder rammed into my chest and his head landed on my arm. “We’re going to be fathers, Alexander.”

His head lifted. “I never thought we’d end up as fathers.”

Me either. “We have Clara to thank for that.” I made myself smile and pushed him back into the chair. “We can’t keep sitting here. We need to rejoin the party. Clara would want us to keep up the pretense.”

We stood together. I scoured his face for any remaining traces of fear but he’d packed them away behind a thin-lipped smile.

“Let’s go.” He walked ahead of me, straight to the lounge where the party had resumed.

Everyone stopped when we approached. Every single head turned our way. A few laughs tittered around the room, but most of the expressions showed a mix of loathing and anger.

Our phones dinged. I kept one eye on the room and the other on my phone. A video popped up in my chat box. The familiarsight of Alexander hunched in the chair moments ago sent ice down the back of my neck.

In front of me, Robbie raised her phone. My voice rang out, shaky but clear. “We’re going to be fathers, Alexander.”

The rest of the video played, my muted phone showing the scene in vivid detail.

We’d been outed.

26

CLARA

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