Page 127 of Knocked Up by My Fake Fiancé
Just then, my cellphone starts ringing. I look at the screen. Alvaro. Weird—what does he want?
"Hold on," I tell George before I answer. "Hello?"
"Hello, Mr. Wolfe. I'm really sorry to interrupt, sir, but you did say to call if anything happened."
"Yes?"
"Well, sir, that Ms. Marina that used to be your fiancée was just here, and she asked me to let her in to talk to Ms. Jenna. Of course, I said no, just like you told me to, sir. She kinda went a little mental when I refused. She was acting… well… very strange, sir."
What a fucking coincidence.
"I see," I say, and a bad feeling forms in my chest. "Is Jenna still there?"
"I believe so, sir. Her car is in the lot."
"Okay, if Marina comes back, don't let her in. In fact, don't letanyonein except Jenna or me. I'm coming right over."
CHAPTER 35
Jenna
I'm rushing to get my things together so I can get changed and return to the event when I hear the front door open and close.
I smile to myself. Grayson has come to check on me after all. That man is something else. I told him I didn't need help, but I suspected he would come anyway. That's just the type of man he is—so incredibly caring and supportive, yet always ready to take charge if I need him to.
Is it any wonder that I'm in love with him?
The cherry on top was his attitude when I told him I was pregnant. I expected him to react in one of two ways—either with anger, growing cold at the fact that I allowed the pregnancy to happen, or with too much enthusiasm, trying to convince me to keep it.
I don't know which reaction I was more afraid of.
But there had been no need to be scared.
Somehow, his answer was perfect.
He didn't tell me what his opinion was on keeping the child, leaving it entirely in my hands. I suspect that he might lean a little toward me keeping the baby, but his reaction made it clearthere was no pressure either way, and he hasn't brought it up since.
It helped the tension in my chest fade. I'm no longer afraid of potentially losing him one way or the other. I'm also no longer afraid that a decision either way will ruin my life forever. That breathing space has helped me consider the situation with a clearer mind.
Strangely enough, right now, I'm leaning toward having the child.
I know—it's insane. I never would have thought I'd be at this point where I'm seriously considering having a baby right now… but I truly can't see why not.
Thousands of mothers—millions even—have managed to hold down their careers and care for a child at the same time.
I plan on working through my pregnancy until I absolutely have to stop, and when that happens, I can still delegate from home. If I'm honest, though it's not always ideal, very little actually has to happen in the office. My employees are all highly competent, and Iris can probably run the place without me—better than if I'm there getting in her way. They mostly need me for higher-level decisions, but apart from that…
Yes, if my colleagues are willing to support me, then between us we can handle it. Of course, one consideration is that after the publicity gained from the Wolfe Foundation gig, I'm hoping a lot of new inquiries will come our way. If we can grow just a little bit more, I can take on a partner or hire a senior event manager to help shoulder the load.
That's a pretty solid plan, and I'm grateful to Grayson because he gave me the time and space to come up with it on my own terms. That way, I'm sure I'm doing this for the right reasons—not just to please him.
I haven't told him yet, though. I was planning to let him know after this gala, during the surprise weekend trip to Paris that he thinks I don't know he's planning for us.
In his defense, he's done a pretty good job of keeping it a secret—for a man. He even had Iris rearrange my schedule to allow for it. He just didn't realize how much of a romantic she is—or how terrible she is at keeping secrets. She's been practically giddy to tell me the entire time, and with just a little prompting, the whole thing came spilling out.
So again I ask, is it any wonder that I love him?
"I'll be right out, babe," I call as I grab a stack of my business cards from the dresser by the bed. "You didn't have to come back—there's not much to carry."
