My Ex, the CEO, and the Baby

I'd spent two solid months working overtime on that project. Once it was finally finished, someone else got all the credit.

I went to my manager, Martin Wallace, for an explanation. He just sneered.

“You're pregnant, aren't you? I saw the prenatal vitamins on your desk. And all those trips to the bathroom lately—you've been throwing up.”

“Wow, Martin. Keeping that close an eye on me? Hoping to be reincarnated as my baby?”

If my child came out looking anything like that shifty little man, I'd have nightmares.

His face changed immediately. Then he started shouting.

“Don't think I don't know what you're doing. You want a promotion and a raise, then you'll go straight on maternity leave and collect the bigger paycheck. I'm protecting this company's interests. It's not happening.”

“You don't own the company. What are you getting so worked up about?”

Besides, I'd earned that project. The promotion and raise should've been mine. Why should I hand them over to somebody else?

The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I left Martin's office and went straight to the top floor to see the boss.

“Hi. I'd like to see Mr. Reed.”

“He's in an international conference call right now. Perhaps you could…”

His assistant was about to turn me away. Then she looked at my face, and the sentence took a sudden detour.

“Perhaps you could wait inside.”

I could just wait in the boss's office while he was in a meeting?

Things were really looking up for you, Claire Bennett.

I didn't stop to question it. I pushed the door open and slapped the papers in my hand onto Nathan Reed's desk.

The man behind it slowly looked away from his computer and up at me.

Voices speaking another language came intermittently through the speakers.

Nathan said something in that language to end the meeting, disconnected the video call, and got up to fiddle with the coffee machine.

“What are you doing here?”

I gave a short, humorless laugh and pointed at the papers.

“Any idea how much it costs to raise a kid? If I can't get a raise, you can start paying child support!”

His hand jerked as he poured beans into the grinder. They scattered all over the floor.

He ignored the mess and came straight over to pick up the papers.

When he reached the pregnancy test results, his permanently unreadable expression finally cracked.

“You're pregnant?”

He looked down at my stomach, frowned at my belt, then noticed my heels and actually raised his voice.

“You're pregnant, and you're wearing something that tight? And heels that high?”

“How is that any of your business?”

I hadn't come for a prenatal-care seminar. I was here to make Nathan pay.

“Your company. Your baby. Child support or a raise. Pick one.”

Nathan let out a disbelieving laugh. “We broke up three years ago. I only moved back three months ago. What are you having, a baby elephant? How long have you been pregnant?”

“You want me raising another man's kid? I'd have to be a complete lapdog!”