Page 6 of Secret Baby (Second Chance Romance 1)

Chapter 5

(Anastasia)

Finding out that Ross was technically married almost crushed me. I had started falling in love with him. I know. That was stupid on my behalf. Our relationship had started as an office fling, nothing more. In the beginning, we thought of each other as friends with benefits. That suited me just fine. In the beginning.

Then he invited me to his place. Then he started taking me out on the town, showing me good times in the high life that were more befitting a girlfriend-boyfriend relationship. Then Julian started chatting me up every chance she got, trying to pump me for information about me and Ross. I held my own. I have been around females like her since high school. It was when she started telling me about her and Ross’s office fling that I realized I was developing serious feelings for him because my instant reaction was jealousy.

I didn’t show her that I was jealous, though. That would have been akin to putting blood in a shark tank. She would have eaten me alive with more and more detailed stories about her and Ross—I definitely didn’t need that.

Around that time, I got sick. It was a struggle to get out of bed in the mornings and drag myself to work. Even the prospect of seeing Ross, and having sex in his office, the risky business that used to set my libido ablaze, no longer appealed to me. Nevertheless, I dragged myself along, acting as normally as possible, thinking all the time that the illness would pass in time.

But it did not pass. It got worse.

I had my suspicions long before I made an appointment at the clinic. I just needed the bloodwork to confirm those suspicions. And the bloodwork definitely confirmed it. I was pregnant.

With this discovery, I did the only thing I could do…I packed up and moved back to Kansas. I left a note for Ross, but I didn’t tell him about the baby. What was he going to do? Jump up and down for joy? Have a celebration? No. He was married. Even if they were living separate lives, the man was still married.

No way was I even going to consider abortion or giving up the baby for adoption. Nope. I considered telling Ross on my last visit to his house, but I could not do it. So, I packed up and left, practically overnight. I gave no notice at work, told none of my staff that I was leaving, I left no forwarding address, and changed my phone number. I just left. Disappeared.

Driving back to Kansas, I cried until my eyes were swollen and my face was puffy and bright pink. I had to get it out of my system. I had a baby to think about and prepare for. I had our futures to consider.

It was time to go balls-to-the-wall with opening my own business. It had to be a success, or I would not get another chance.

***

Almost four years later, my little girl, Leslie, had just had the bestest birthday ever. She was a beautiful little raven-haired gift. Looking at her, tired and content after her birthday party, made my heart sing. She was the best thing that ever happened to me.

She was also a daily reminder of her father, Ross Worthington. Some days I missed him and our wild lovemaking, the feelings I had for him, and the way he looked at me. After nearly four years, though, I thought about him less and less. It had gotten to the point that I hardly ever thought about him, and rarely pined for his caresses.

There were other men. None of whom were father material, though. They were flash-fire romances that burned out way before I ever thought about making one permanent.

My catering business, Worldwide Cuisine, was a booming success. I did business almost solely online. I liked the new, updated name, it left a lot of room for possible catering requests. Especially since the business had grown immensely and I had companies in Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, and was working on two locations in Missouri. There was a lot of international peoples in those states.

When Leslie laid down for her nap after the party, I made a pot of coffee and sat at my computer to check on my local business.

There was only one request that day. It was from a company, W&P. Their newest installment of the large retail store would be opening in my area soon. W&P wanted my company to cater a party for their executives and owners beforehand.

Without a second thought, I replied with the catering list, the price list, the timeframe, and other pertinent paperwork that needed to be filled out before I could start on the job. It usually took about a week for people to get everything in order and get it back to me. So, I let it go, didn’t spend much time thinking about that job in particular. I was raising a three-year-old by myself and overseeing several small catering companies that were spread throughout the Midwest. To say the least, I was very busy.

Two days later, the paperwork had been returned to my email. The date for the party was only three weeks away. I had special orders for food to get done and had to hire more servers and cooks to help with the event.

The day of the event came, and I was on-site setting up the tables. There was a flurry of activity, people bustling around, my twenty employees plus the twenty or more who were decorating the place, plus all the execs and owners who were milling around just being nosy. Just seeing how the other half lives, I suppose.

They were getting on my nerves, so I took a break and went outside to get some fresh air and elbow room. A car pulled around to the side of the building. I thought I saw Ross in that car. For just a split second, I was sure it was his handsome face peering out the back window in my direction.

Then the car was out of sight.

I wandered around outside for a few minutes and then went back to the second floor and entered the melee again. Two hours later, I was in the makeshift kitchen, cooking the entrees for the meal.

Sweat slithered down from my hairline into my face, my clothes stuck to me, my other three cooks worked just as hard as I did. We were all quickly becoming exhausted. Just as I was at my grossest, a man walked into the little crowded kitchen and propped against the far wall. Glancing up at him, wondering why the hell a suit would be in the kitchen, I kept cooking. It took almost a full minute before my heat-exhausted brain realized who he was.

Ross Worthington stood in the steamy kitchen, all cool and sexy, leaning against the wall. Watching me with an odd expression, he moved toward me.

My heart nearly stopped. I was so not ready to face him. I had left Massachusetts to avoid him.

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