Page 18 of One Small Secret

I scoff. “I didn’t always turn you down.”

“One time you agreed to go out with me, but you didn’t keep the date.”

“And the only possible explanation is that Ruben is the father of my baby?” Who did Christian think he was? Actually Brad Pitt?

“It doesn’t matter what I think.” He swears softly. “Did he even know about Axley before you got back? You should have seen the way his face paled when I told him you had a child. I thought he felt bad about putting a single mom out of work, but…” He puts his hand to his forehead and opens his mouth to say something more when the elevator pings and three more people get on.

There are a few polite exchanges before the door closes and then we go down the last two floors in silence.

Christian follows me as far as the exit before I turn around and stop him with a hand to his chest. “I don’t want you following me home.”

“I wouldn’t. I don’t want Mr. Palmer thinking—”

“It has nothing to do with Mr. Palmer. I am done dealing with you today. I just want to go home, snuggle up with Axley, and watch some TV. If you breathe any of this to anyone, so help me, I’ll make certain you're the next one on a plane to Vietnam.”

Christian wrinkles his nose and looks as if he’s about to say something, but I see the moment he changes his mind. I’m not just his coworker anymore. I might actually have the power to have him transferred.

I shake my head but resist the urge to roll my eyes. “Goodbye, Christian. I’ll see you after Christmas.” Maybe by then I’ll have my dignity back.

CHAPTER NINE

My apartment’s been cleaned to within an inch of its life and I put up every holiday decoration I could find. Mom and I grabbed a few things last week from a drugstore to make the apartment more festive for Axley’s first Christmas. The tree is a sad little thing that I thought was a steal of a deal until I had to put it together. Mom’s tree goes together in three large pieces. This one came in fifty-two. To make matters worse, after Axley broke two bulbs near the bottom, I gave up on the tree looking like it came out of a catalog. The top half is covered in lights and bulbs, but the bottom half is bare.

The entire apartment shows evidence of Axley, but it’s so much better than the sterile, empty structure it was just two weeks ago.

There’s a knock at the door, and even if I hadn’t known Ruben was coming over, I would have recognized it. His whole family uses the same knock. Three sharp raps, succinct and close together.

I pull open the door, expecting to see his face, but instead find his legs rocking what must be a pair of $600 jeans—and the bottom half of his torso. He's wearing a sweater that should disguise how good his abs look in paparazzi photos, but somehow doesn’t.

The rest of him is covered in brightly wrapped Christmas boxes. I laugh and open the door wide. “I thought you said you were bringing Axley a present.”

He peeks around the stack. “I couldn’t bring one for him without bringing one for you and your mom. Is she here?”

I motion for him to come in. “Mom went home after dinner. She doesn’t keep your celebrity hours.”

Ruben ignores the celebrity comment, keeping his head to the side as his eyes give me a quick once over.” Nice shirt.”

Heat travels up my neck. My shirt is not nice. It’s a baggy old sweatshirt with “Eve’n Christmas” splashed across a red and white Santa styled cowboy hat. I’ve worn it every Christmas Eve since Dad gave it to me the year before he passed away. It isn’t as oversized as it was when I was twelve, but it’s still loose. I cut the crew neck top out of it the moment after he gave it to me to be “cool,” and it just never hung right after that. But it’s tradition, and a way to remember Dad during the holidays. I’m not going to change that just because one measly famous person is joining the festivities.

He glances around my apartment. “Where should I put these?”

“Under the tree is typical.” My hand is still on the doorknob. Something about having Ruben in my little apartment is unnerving. He doesn’t seem to fit here. Everything about him is larger than life, and my apartment was only ever meant for me. It is purposely small.

But Ruben doesn’t seem to notice how out of place he is. He kicks off his shoes like we’re back in high school, and hanging out at each other’s homes is the norm. Only this time it’s just us. Not us and our families; not us and our friends.

He marches to the odd little tree and sets his presents down. There are at least six of them. I shake my head. “Did you bring something for my housekeeper and cook as well?”

He bolts upright and turns. “I didn’t. Should I have?” His eyes are wide and he's no longer smiling.

I laugh. “No, Ruben. I don’t have either of those. But you only told me you were bringing Axley a present. So I declare myself exempt from getting you one. I’m not going to feel guilty.”

“I assure you, my only thought this evening is to bring your family presents and be as normal as possible.” He crosses his hand over his heart like he's some sort of overgrown and delicious looking boy scout. “Making you feel guilty never crossed my mind.”

That was an obvious load of crap. It totally crossed his mind. I can see it in the way the corner of his mouth turns up. He's enjoying the chance to one-up me. I grit my teeth together. If we are back on speaking terms, the normal he’s talking about means one thing. Competition. “Leave your coat on, we're going out.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Apparently I owe you a present.”

---