A Pregnant Proposal

Chapter Two

“What do you mean they want the baby?” Jen asked, but she knew. She knew even without the sympathy she saw in Matt’s warm hazel eyes. The drumming in her chest, the tightening of her stomach, the burning in her throat all told her: Philip’s parents were trying to get custody of her unborn child.

Matt put a soothing hand on her shoulder. Her muscles, which had drawn as tight as a bow, relaxed slightly beneath his touch.

“The fact that they want custody doesn’t mean they’ll get it, you know,” he said. “You’re the child’s mother, that means everything.”

Jen tried to smile, but tears spilled down her cheeks instead. “It should. But we’ve all heard of custody cases that clearly go in the wrong direction.”

“It’s very rare, Jen. Very rare.”

She nodded unhappily. “Yeah, well, Dutch Sedgewick is one of the most powerful lawyers in Chicago, in fact, he’s probably the most powerful lawyer in Chicago. If anyone could win a case like this, it would be him.” Suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She put a hand to her chest and swallowed a sob. She was vaguely aware of Matt moving to her desk and picking up the mug of water she always had there.

He brought it back, handed it to her, and pulled a chair up in front of hers. “Jen, they’re not going to take your baby away.” He sat and leaned toward her. “There’s no way they could get away with it.” There was such kindness and concern in his expression that, for a moment, Jen felt reassured.

But it was only for a moment. “There are probably two thousand ways they could get away with it, and Dutch knows each and every one, case by case.” A wave of anger rose in her but broke into fear.

“He’d have to prove that you were an unfit mother, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to do that.” He captured her gaze with his own, and held it. “Your character is so sterling it’s nearly blinding in sunlight.”

She closed her eyes. “I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not that proud of. Nothing huge, of course, but little things that might prevent a nomination to sainthood down the road.”

“Sounds interesting.” He smiled his even white smile. “You’ll have to tell me about them sometime. But whatever they are, I’m one hundred percent sure they’re not going to lose you custody of your child. The world just doesn’t work that way.”

She stood up and paced the floor in front of him. “I’d like to believe that, but unfair things happen all the time. Murderers go free because they confess before the police read them their rights, airplanes crash because a tiny wire over the baggage sparks, children get sick…” She drew her hands into fists at her side, then released them. “People die horrible deaths because they light too many candles for what they think will be a romantic evening.”

Matt watched her steadily. “You’re right, Jen. Unfair things happen all the time. But not this time.” He stood and went to her, putting both hands on her shoulders. “You’re not going to lose this child. The Sedgewicks are not going to take the baby away from you.”

She took a deep breath and placed a hand on her belly protectively. The baby didn’t move. She knew he wouldn’t. He—or she—always slept during her lunch hour. The baby wasn’t even born yet and she already knew more about her child than the Sedgewicks could ever know. She felt she knew the soul of the little person who tumbled around inside of her. She’d been given the job of loving and protecting him and that was just what she was going to do. Matt was right, the Sedgewicks were not going to take the child away from her.

And they were going to get a tremendous battle if they tried.

“Darn right they’re not going to take the baby,” she said determinedly. “Not while I have breath in my body.”

“Good.” Matt nodded and gave her shoulders a final squeeze before taking his hands off. “That’s more like it.”

Jen nodded. “I’ll just call Mr. Sedgewick and talk to him, make him see reason.”

Matt snapped to attention. “Now, wait a minute, Jen. I’m not sure you should do that yourself. Better to hire a lawyer to do the talking so Sedgewick doesn’t take advantage of you.”

“What do you mean?”

Matt gave a half shrug. “Just that if you say one wrong thing he might jump on it and use it for his case.”

“What could I say that he could use against me? I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“No, you haven’t.” Matt’s voice was gentle but firm. “But if you get flustered—and he will be an expert at trying to make you feel that way—who knows what you might say?”

Jen gave a laugh. “Think I might slip and make an arbitrary confession to smuggling or extortion?”

Matt smiled, but his eyes remained fastened on hers. “Of course not. But people have been known to confess to things that weren’t true when the pressure was on them.”

She shook her head. “Not me. The truth is on my side in this case.”

“Sometimes that’s not enough.”

She sighed. Matt could be right. On the other hand, maybe they were giving Dutch Sedgewick a lot more credit than he deserved. “Maybe he’s just a blowhard and the worst he can do is act the way he always has toward me—like I’m an irritating gnat flying in his face.” She waited a moment and added, “I promise this, if he maintains this suit, I’ll be a lot more trouble than a gnat.”

Matt looked at her for a moment, then sat down, shaking his head. “You’re what my grandmother would have called a real pistol, you know that?”

“This is a good thing?”

“Sure. If you like giving fits to the people who care about you.”

She bit her tongue before self-pity let her say that, apart from Susan and Matt, she felt like there were more people against her than for her. Of course, that was counting the messenger who had given her the papers and the kid at the coffee shop who she was sure was lying when he said they didn’t have any more chocolate macadamia biscotti.

The baby moved, kicking Jen’s ribs, and her perspective came back to her in a rush. She no longer had the luxury of feeling sorry for herself, she had someone else to take care of now. Already her love for the baby took precedence over everything else in her life. Surely when the Sedgewicks saw that, they’d drop their suit.

The telephone on Jen’s desk trilled.

“Do you want me to have them hold your calls?” Matt asked, poised to take action.

Jen shook her head. “It’s okay.” She picked up the phone. It was Leila, calling for Matt.

With an apologetic smile, he took the phone and answered it. “I thought I told you to take messages,” he said into the receiver, then listened. “Oh. I see. Uh-huh.”

Jen studied his profile as he talked. He was certainly handsome, she thought to herself. No wonder so many women were after him. She smiled to herself, remembering how he had once confided to Susan and herself that he was tired of shallow relationships, but that he didn’t want anything deeper. He’d rather be alone, he’d said, than play the games any longer. Privately she and Susan had agreed that a great guy was being wasted and that they should keep their eyes out for the perfect woman for him. Now, though she was loathe to admit it, she was glad they hadn’t succeeded. It felt nice to have him here for her, looking after her interests and reassuring her.

“Sorry for the interruption,” he said, hanging up the phone. “It seems we just hired a mail-room clerk with a criminal past.”

Jen raised an eyebrow, absently rubbing her hand across her belly. “So we’re an equal opportunity employer, what’s the problem?”

“By criminal I mean two million bucks’ worth of mail fraud at a large accounting firm in Boston.” Matt shook his head. “He got off on a technicality.”

“Ah.” She nodded. “I guess he didn’t mention that in his application.”

“Nope.”

She sighed and sat down heavily in her hard leather chair. “You’d better get down and take care of that, then.”

“I hate to leave you alone with this right now.” He looked at her with so much concern, her chest tightened.

But she didn’t want to be a burden to him, or to anyone. She waved him off with her hand. “Oh, I’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. “How about dinner tonight?”

“You don’t have to baby-sit me, Matt, honestly.” She looked into his eyes. “I’m really all right.”

He put his hands up in surrender. “I believe you, I believe you. But I have selfish reasons for asking you to dinner. We still haven’t talked about the day care, and Kane’s breathing down my neck about it. I’d like to get your opinions and since we didn’t make lunch…”

“Sold.” She was glad to have a good reason to accept because, the truth was, ever since he’d mentioned going out to lunch, she’d been hungry for a big juicy hamburger. Maybe she’d change it to a big juicy steak for dinner. The four doughnuts she’d had for lunch weren’t really very satisfying. “I usually leave around five-thirty, how about you? Should we go from here?”

“Whatever you prefer, Jen, it’s your pick. After all, you’re the one doing me a favor.”

In fact, she would have preferred to go home and get herself together first, maybe put on some makeup and a nicer outfit, but she didn’t want Matt to think she thought it was a date, so she said, “Great, then let’s go from here.”

He gave a short nod. “I’ll come meet you here at five-thirty.”

“Perfect.” She pushed her hair back off her face. “See you then.”

He started for the door, then stopped and turned back to her. “In the meantime, Jen,” he looked at the telephone and then back at her, “don’t do anything foolish, okay?”

“Me?” She smiled. “Of course not.”

“Remember what I said, don’t talk to Sedgewick unless it’s through a lawyer. God knows what he’d get you to say.”

“I’m a big girl.” She glanced theatrically at her belly. “A really big girl. I can take care of myself and whoever else may come along.”

Matt eyed her for a moment, then gave a single nod. “All right.”

She watched him go with a curious sense of emptiness. As long as Matt had been in the office with her, she’d been occupied. As long as she’d been occupied, she hadn’t had to make the call to Dutch Sedgewick that Matt was trying so hard to keep her from making. Yet she knew she had to do it. If she waited and had a lawyer contact Dutch for her, that would really set him off. He would look at it as a call to battle. That was the last thing she needed. Whereas, if she spoke with him herself, there was a possibility, at least, that she might be able to reason with him.

And now that she was alone, she couldn’t put it off any longer.

With more care than was necessary, she took the phone book out of her desk drawer and looked up the number for Sedgewick-Armour. When she found it, she had to fight an urge to slap the book shut and forget the call, but she had to make it. So she settled into the chair behind her desk, took several deep breaths for courage and dialed the number.

“Dutch Sedgewick, please,” she said when a crisp-voiced receptionist answered the phone.

“May I tell him who’s calling?”

“Jennifer Martin.”

“One moment please.” There was a click, then dead silence as she waited on hold. No fuzzy radio station or soothing Muzak for Dutch Sedgewick. He probably wanted his clients and his adversaries alike to hear their own hearts beat as they waited for him to come on the line. Refusing to give in to the anxiety, Jen hummed to herself and watched the timer on her telephone count the minutes—four and a half of them—until the receptionist came back on the line.

“Mr. Sedgewick can’t be interrupted right now,” the voice said coolly. “May I take a number so he can call you back?”

It took nearly five minutes for him to tell you he couldn’t be interrupted? Jen thought. She knew this was another of his lawyerly tactics, but she didn’t see that she had a choice. She left her work number and said that she would be there until five-thirty.

He returned her call at five twenty-five.

“Dutch Sedgewick here,” he said, in a voice that boomed like Fred Flintstone’s, without the humor.

Jen’s heart did a bellyflop. All of her confidence left in a single hiss of breath. “Mr. Sedgewick,” she said, trying to collect her thoughts as they scattered like birds at the sound of a dog’s bark. “I called about the papers you sent over earlier.”

“I figured as much,” he said and she imagined him drumming his fingers on his desk. “Are you prepared to settle this out of court?”

She knew she had to be very careful how she answered him. “Well, I certainly don’t have any desire to go to court.”

“Good. I can have custody papers drawn up immediately, if you’re willing to sign. I can bring them to you myself.”

“No—”

“No what? No, you’ll come here or no, you don’t want to sign?”

“I don’t want you bringing custody papers to me—”

“You prefer court, then?”

“No, I prefer neither. You see—”

“Miss Martin.” A world of implication bled from his emphasis. “ I don’t need to tell you, do I, that grandparents’ rights are very strong? Particularly in a case like this.”

She didn’t know what he meant by “a case like this” but she didn’t want to encourage his legal argument right now, either. “Of course not, but—”

“Grandparents’ rights are stronger, in many cases, than those of a single parent. Like you. As a matter of fact, sometimes that parent isn’t even allowed visitation when all is said and done. Now we can do this simply or we can play ugly, it’s up to you.”

Jen twisted the phone cord around her finger. If this wasn’t ugly, what was? She bolstered her nerves by imagining Matt was still with her, encouraging her in that soft but steady way of his. “Mr. Sedgewick, to me this isn’t a game. I’m not going to play at all.” A tremble began in the pit of her stomach. “I’m sorry. I know that you and Mrs. Sedgewick must miss Philip terribly, but you cannot have my baby.”

“Our grandchild.” There was not an iota of warmth to his voice. “The grandchild you evidently planned to keep a secret from us. If my wife hadn’t gone to your home to retrieve Philip’s belongings, we might never have found out. I suppose that’s just how you would have liked it, too, us not knowing about Philip’s son.”

Her hands began to shake. “No—”

“So you admit it!”

Cold washed over her. Matt had been right, she shouldn’t have spoken to Sedgewick. She was in over her head; he was twisting all of her words. “No, what I meant was, you’ve got it wrong.”

“Really.” She could hear him take a triumphant draw on the cigar he was almost never without. “Proceed carefully, Miss Martin.”

“You’ve got to listen to me!” She was near tears. The idea that Philip had grown up under this tyranny made her heart ache for him. She remembered his stories of the lashings he used to get if he brought home a grade lower than A from school, or if he made a mistake during a piano recital. At the time, Jen had believed Philip had to be exaggerating, at least a little. Now she believed him completely.

“I’m listening, Miss Martin. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” She hesitated. Not only did she believe Philip now, but she knew she had to protect his child as no one had been able to protect him. She owed at least that to him, as well as to the baby.

“You’re saying what?” the man on the other end of the line demanded. “Speak up, girl, I don’t have all evening for this nonsense.”

She had a vision, suddenly, of Dutch Sedgewick bullying her sweet, innocent child this way and something in her broke. She would not let that happen, no matter what. “Mr. Sedgewick,” she said sharply. Before she had time to think better of her plan, the words were out. “This baby is not your grandchild.”

She could almost hear the ash dropping from the tip of his cigar onto the lap of his two-thousand-dollar trousers. “I beg your pardon?”

She said a short prayer, asking Philip to forgive her for what she had to say. “This is not Philip’s baby I’m carrying. I wasn’t pregnant when Philip died.” Which was true in a way, since she hadn’t known she was pregnant when Philip died.

There was a moment of silence, and then, “I don’t believe you.”

She dove headfirst into her lie. “Don’t let my fiancé hear you saying that.”

People have been known to confess to things that weren’t true when the pressure was on them, Matt had said. Boy, had he called this one right!

“Your fiancé?” Dutch’s tone quieted just enough for her to realize he was taken aback.

“Yes, Mr. Sedgewick. My baby’s father and I are planning to get married as soon as the baby is born.”

If you get flustered, who knows what you might say?

“Is that so.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. “I suppose this fiancé has a name?”

She swallowed. “Yes.”

A moment passed like an hour and Jen knew Dutch wanted her to sweat.

“Who is it?” he asked at last.

Panic chased several lame answers around her mind. “I’m not sure that’s any of your business, Mr. Sedgewick,” she stalled. “Particularly after the threats you were making a couple of minutes ago.”

“It’s my business if you don’t want DNA testing added to my suit when the child is born.”

Something deep inside Jen screamed. She couldn’t let this man threaten her or her child. She couldn’t let this kind of person be part of her child’s life at all. She would not. “You have no right do that. You have no right to do any of this!”

“My dear, you would be surprised how many rights I have.” He gave a humorless laugh. “If you’re not carrying my son’s child, I want to know who’s child it is. Where did this very convenient fiancé come from?”

“I’ve worked with him for years.” Her mouth was as dry as cotton. She’d never been good at lying. “After Philip died, he was a shoulder to cry on and one thing led to another…before I knew it, we were talking marriage.”

“I should think so. I want a name.” His tone told her there was no more stalling.

So she said the only name that came to mind, the only man she could think of who was noble enough and kind enough to be the fictional father of her baby.

Don’t talk to Sedgewick unless it’s through a lawyer. God knows what he’d get you to say.

“His name is Matt Holder.”

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