Susan Mallery - Having Her Boss's Baby

She stopped and sucked in a breath. It was then he figured out she was crying.

He stood and walked into the bathroom, where some mystery cleaning person always left a fresh box of tissues. After handing them to her, he perched on the edge of his desk.

“How old are you, Noelle?”

She took the tissues and wiped her face with one, then blew her nose. “I’ll be twenty in a couple of weeks.”

Still a kid herself, he thought. “You go to college?”

“Community college. I’ll start my second year in the fall.” She wrinkled her nose. “I know, I know, I should be at UC Riverside, but early in my senior year of high school I was skiing with the youth group.” She looked up and actually gave him a little smile. “I had a close encounter with a tree. I usually do better than that. Anyway, I broke my leg and messed up some ligaments, which meant surgery and physical therapy and more surgery. My mom homeschooled me and I was able to graduate with my class, but I missed out on a lot of activities and the SATs. I wasn’t even able to apply to a four-year college. So I’m doing it this way, which is good because it saves a lot of money. I mean, there are four of us and it’s not like my parents are rich or anything.”

Too much information, he thought, not sure where to go first. “You still live at home?”

“Yes. I’m one of four girls. The oldest.” The humor in her blue eyes faded. “Talk about setting a bad example.”

“What do your parents do?”

“My dad’s the pastor at our church and my mom works in the office.”

Dear God, Jimmy had slept with a minister’s daughter?

“What do you want to do when you finish college?”

“Go into nursing, specializing in pediatrics.” She held up her hand. “I beg you, do not give me the ‘be a doctor instead’ lecture. When I was in the hospital, the people who made a difference for me were the nurses. That’s what I want to do—take care of kids and help them be less scared while they’re sick.”

“No lectures,” he promised.

Now what? The young woman was pregnant with his brother’s child, and that made her his responsibility. But how to handle things? If Jimmy were still alive, he could insist they get married. He could…

Jimmy wasn’t alive, he reminded himself again and he, Dev, was the reason.

The ever-present guilt coiled around him like a large, deadly snake. He willed himself not to react. The more immediate problem was Noelle’s pregnancy and what to do about it, and her.

* * *

Noelle shifted uncomfortably in the chair. While she appreciated how nice Mr. Hunter was being, she didn’t know what, exactly, he wanted from her. He wasn’t the father of her baby, so this wasn’t his problem. Still, at least he hadn’t questioned her for saying Jimmy was the father and she didn’t think he’d thought anything bad about her.

A baby. She touched her hand to her stomach. It didn’t seem possible that there was a child growing inside of her. Sure, she’d always wanted a family, but not like this and not so soon. Except, with Jimmy dead, the baby was all that was left of him.

She wondered what he would have said if she could have told him. Despite his emotional proposal the last time he’d been home, she wasn’t sure he would have wanted to go through with the marriage. She wasn’t even sure she would have. Everything had happened so quickly. They’d been dating and having fun, then he’d been gone and they’d kept in touch with letters and e-mail and then he’d been back for just a short period of time. She hadn’t been able to think.

“We should get married.”

At first Noelle was sure she hadn’t heard the words correctly. She looked at Mr. Hunter, trying to figure out if he’d really spoken.

“Excuse me?”

His gaze never left her face. “We should get married as quickly as possible. Jimmy was my brother. That makes the baby my responsibility. I’m only doing what he would have done. The difference being, we aren’t involved.”

His responsibility? Technically he was the baby’s uncle, she thought frantically, but in reality he was Mr. Hunter, her boss’s boss and someone she didn’t know at all.

“I’m suggesting a marriage of convenience,” he added calmly. “Something temporary for, say, two years. Long enough for you to get on your feet and get used to being a mother. Then we would divorce. You’d get what Jimmy would have inherited, if he’d lived. I would like to continue to have contact with the child and see him or her raised as a Hunter, but otherwise you would be free to live your life.”

“You’re suggesting marriage and divorce,” she said, amazed she could speak at all. Her brain whirled and twirled until she was so dizzy she couldn’t imagine standing ever again. This was not happening. Mr. Hunter proposing? “You barely know me, Mr. Hunter. I don’t know you at all. We can’t get married.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not trying to seduce you, Noelle. While we will live in the same house, our lives will be entirely separate. I want to help you. I am Jimmy’s only relative so his child is my responsibility.”

That made sense, but marriage? Why hadn’t he just offered child support? “I don’t want to get married only to get divorced,” she said. “I don’t believe in that. I think marriage is a serious and permanent commitment.”

“Which you can have later,” he said. “With someone else. Someone you meet and fall in love with. I’m going to be blunt, Noelle. You’re going to be twenty when the baby is born. You work part-time and you’re attending college. From what you’ve said, your parents aren’t very well-off. Can they afford to take on another child? Do you want them to? What about your dreams of being a nurse? How are you going to care for a baby, support yourself and the child and attend college? What about paying rent, bills, health insurance, college tuition? Do you really want to take this all on yourself?”

He leaned toward her. “I’m offering a temporary solution that allows you to get on with your life. All your expenses will be taken care of. We can hire a nanny to help out, if you’d like. At the end of the prearranged time, you’ll have enough money to take care of everything. If you live carefully, you won’t need to work if you don’t want to.”

As her brain hadn’t settled down, she didn’t know what to think. “Why?” she asked. “Why would you do this?”

For the first time since he’d invited her into his office, Mr. Hunter wouldn’t look at her. “Jimmy going into the military was my idea,” he said at last. “What happened to him is my fault.”

He spoke calmly, but she heard the pain in his voice and in his words. He blamed himself for his brother’s death.

Her instinct was to go to him and offer comfort. Instead she said, “You didn’t fire the gun, Mr. Hunter. You didn’t kill your brother.”

He returned his attention to her and raised his dark eyebrows. “Under the circumstances don’t you think you should call me Dev?”

“What? Oh. Sure. Dev.” Right now weren’t names the least of their problems? “My point is you’re not responsible for your brother’s death and you’re not responsibles for me being pregnant.” As if Mr. Hunter—Dev—would ever be interested in her that way. She’d seen a couple of the women he’d dated. They were all tall, slinky, exotic beauties. She looked more like a Wisconsin farmgirl—all blond hair and freckles.

“I’m very serious about my proposal,” he said.

Because he felt responsible, she thought. He would. She knew a little about him because of what Jimmy had told her. Dev had been in high school when his mother died. Jimmy had been only six or seven. Their father had disappeared and their paternal grandfather had stepped in to take care of the two boys. Only he had died a few years later and Dev had raised Jimmy.