Emily McKay: Affair with the Rebel Heiress / The Magnate's Pregnancy Proposal: Affair with the Rebel Heiress / The Magnate's Pregnancy Proposal

Finally he said, “Stop being so damn cryptic and just tell me what the damn thing says.”

“Trust me, you’re going to want to read this yourself.”

He took the laptop from Jonathan and sat back down on the sofa, only vaguely aware of Jonathan walking away to give him privacy. As he read, his tension coalesced into cold, hard anger.

A few minutes later, Jonathan returned, holding out a shot of Scotch from the hotel’s courtesy bar. Ford carefully set the laptop on the coffee table before accepting the drink. He took several long drinks, then realized his knuckles were turning white from gripping the glass too tightly.

Finally he stood and headed for the door with grim determination, almost too angry to speak.

“Where are you going?” Jonathan asked.

“To find Kitty.”

By the time Monday morning rolled around, Kitty felt marginally more prepared to face Ford. After he left her apartment Saturday morning, she’d decided she simply couldn’t face him again so soon. So she’d abandoned the familiarity of her apartment for a hotel not far from Biedermann’s offices. She’d spent the weekend with her phone turned off, huddled under the blanket watching an I Love Lucy marathon and ordering room service. She’d bawled when Little Ricky was born and then found herself unable to stop crying. Poor Lucy always tried to do the right thing, but always made a mess of things. Sometimes her own life felt like an episode of I Love Lucy, but without the laugh track or the comforting presence of Ethel Mertz.

Maybe this mess would seem more bearable if her own pratfalls could be cushioned by the unconditional love of her own Ricky Ricardo. Maybe if Ford …

No, she stopped herself. She couldn’t think like that. He wasn’t hers. He never had been and he certainly wouldn’t be now that she was keeping this secret from him.

Maybe, she justified to herself, one lie of omission deserved another. In Texas, he hadn’t told her that he was a business tycoon whose company was worth billions. So Saturday morning, she didn’t tell him the whole truth, either.

But of course, she hadn’t outright lied. After all, he truly didn’t need to worry that she’d gotten pregnant then. By the time they’d had sex, she was already two months pregnant.

All of her rationalizations almost made her feel better. Until Monday morning rolled around and she found Marty pacing in her office. With his tie loosened and his hair tousled, he looked as bedraggled as she felt.

She dropped her handbag on the chair by the door and shrugged out of her coat before tossing it carelessly on top. “Honestly, Marty, have you even been home? You look as if you slept here.”

Marty knew her as well as anyone did. Keeping the truth from him would be quite the challenge. Today was a day to channel her inner bitch if there ever was one.

He ignored her comment. “Where have you been all weekend? I’ve been trying to reach you since Saturday. We all have.”

Kitty’s stomach tightened. This didn’t sound good. “I went away for the weekend.” Another lie. Sort of.

What could she possibly have done wrong now? She hadn’t even been here. Running his fingers through his hair again, Marty asked, “Have you been online this morning?”

She faked a yawn to cover any panic that might have crossed her face. “You know I can’t stand staring at a computer screen before coffee. Speaking of which, could you be a dear and get—”

“No, Kitty. Not this morning.” He rounded her desk and popped open her laptop. “Come have a look.”

By the time she reached it, the Suzy Snark blog was loading onto the screen. At the top of the page was a picture of her and Ford climbing out of the cab in front of The Pierre Hotel. Whatever nasty comment Kitty had been about to make was swallowed by her dread.

She stared blankly at the screen, her eyes unable to focus on the jumble of words on the screen. After a second, she realized Marty was looking at her expectantly.

“Well,” he said.

She dropped petulantly into her office chair. “Why should I care what some gossipmonger has to say?”

“You should care because it affects your business.”

“I sincerely doubt it.”

“Are you even going to read it?”

You bet your booty she was. But not now, with Marty looming over her, watching the painful process. “Maybe later. After coffee.”

Marty twisted the laptop to face him and began reading aloud. “Christmas has come early for those of us who love juicy gossip—”

“Honestly, Marty,” she interrupted. “Is this really necessary?”

“Yes.” His tone was unexpectedly firm. “You need to read this before anyone from FMJ shows up.”

She mimicked his tone. “Fine. Then be a dear and get me that mocha latte and I’ll be done reading it by the time you get back.”

As soon as he was gone, she leaned forward and began the laborious process of reading.

Christmas has come early for those of us who love juicy gossip. Readers of this column are probably wondering why Kitty Biedermann’s love life has been so dull lately. Ever since her breakup with Derek Messina, she’s been nursing her broken heart in private. But no longer!

This time she’s set her sights on entrepreneur Ford Langley of FMJ. The two were seen together at the posh Children’s Medical Foundation fundraiser just last night. It’s not surprising the enterprising Kitty would try to land such a hunky catch. The shocker is that they may be entering into professional negotiations as well as personal ones. There are rumors that Biedermann’s is about to get gobbled up by FMJ.

And that’s not even the biggest news. An inside source says Kitty may be expecting more than just a hefty bonus from FMJ. The only question is, once Langley finds out about Kitty’s little bundle of joy, will he still be interested in saving Biedermann’s Jewelry? Or will the heiress have to raise her baby and run her company all on her own?

Kitty felt bile rise in her throat as she sat back in her chair. Oh, dear lord.

Before she even began to ponder the issue, Marty reappeared. The mocha latte he set down in front of her did nothing to settle her stomach. His stony expression did little to quell her fears.

“I got a decaf. Just in case she’s right.” He must have read her answer in her expression, because he propped his hip on the edge of her desk and muttered a curse.

“How did she find out?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

“Guess.”

But she couldn’t guess. She’d known herself for less than seventy-two hours. How had Suzy-stinkin’-Snark found out about it?

“I bought a pregnancy test,” she said aloud. “Someone must have seen me do it.”

Marty sighed. “And if it was someone who reads the blog and recognized you, they would have contacted Suzy right away.”

Marty’s obvious annoyance rankled. “Why are you acting all put out over this? This is my private life she’s exploiting.”

“And it affects our business. Why were you out with Ford anyway? Did you think making a conquest of him would make this buyout any easier on you? Do you really think FMJ is going to want to do business with you when you act like this?”

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