A Billionaire's Secret Baby - Chapter 7

An impossible situation had arisen. Alex knew now. Knew that I found him attractive, knew that I still wanted him. And yet, we both knew that what we’d done was wrong. Somehow, without meaning to, we’d crossed a line.

I wanted to blame him: wanted to accuse him of taking advantage of me, at a weak moment. But the truth was I’d never have slept with him again unless I felt something for him.

But what did I really feel? Alex and I couldn’t stand one another. We bickered and argued. My smiling annoyed him—his scowling annoyed me.

Like I said. Impossible.

I hated Alex. Hated him for what he’d done, hated him for abandoning me. During my pregnancy, I’d pictured him countless times, the cruel thing he’d done by leaving me alone to raise his child. Alex didn’t know that Macy was his daughter and I was happy with him not knowing. I’d decided I’d take the secret of Macy’s dad’s identity to my grave. When my parents asked me who the father of my child was, I spoke in vague terms, suggesting that it was a love affair gone awry. I never lied. But I’m not sure I told the truth, either.

But if I hated him so much, why was the next week so awkward? Why were we exchanging glances so frequently? Before that night, that night when I’d given myself up to him, surrendered myself to the intense and wonderful lust I felt for him, it was easy to ignore Alex. He wasn’t especially likable, even if he was still handsome. Even if he looked just the same as he had six years ago.

But now it was like we were avoiding one another. Alex didn’t even subject me to the usual list of petty grievances and pointless criticism. He stayed away from me, keeping his distance, sulky and jealous. Like a caged animal patrolling his cage.

That Friday, I had another evening shift to work, and as usual, Luca was in with his cronies. He’d always been a regular guest at the restaurant—the perks of being the owner, I guessed. But even I was shocked when Andy flounced upstairs from the bar with a bottle of champagne in an ice-bucket. He came over to me while I was mixing a few drinks for another table, and whispered in my ear.

“Luca,” he said, “just asked for my last bottle of 2015 Moët.”

“Holy cow,” I said. “How much does that stuff cost, anyhow?”

“Five hundred dollars,” he groaned. “Alex is gonna flip when he hears about it.”

I shrugged. “What can we do? He’s an owner.”

“I guess. I just hate to waste it. Look, they’ve had enough to drink already.”

I glanced over surreptitiously at the table. Through the crowded restaurant, I could see the booth where Luca and his friends were sat. Their faces were red and they were laughing loudly. Luca was telling one of his crass, dirty stories about something that happened in Vegas, while they sipped oysters and looked at the menu.

I couldn’t stand watching people throw money around like that. My twenties had been nothing if not a struggle to make ends meet: first as a musician, and then caring for Macy. And even if my salary at the Orchid was good, it wasn’t exactly like a single mother waitressing in New York was ever going to be that wealthy. I looked up at the ice bucket sitting on the side, the bottle with its gold label gleaming in the low light.

“That bottle is like half my week’s salary,” I muttered.

I watched the champagne get carted over to Luca’s table, where Carrie, one of the waitresses, opened it. Luca yanked the bottle out of her hands, and topped up their glasses.

“Animals,” muttered Andy, and went back downstairs.

I put it out of my mind, and tried to think happy thoughts. It wasn’t hard. I was working tomorrow, but then I had three days off, a rarity in the New York restaurant business, and Macy and I would be able to play together over the weekend.

We got through the service, ignoring Luca and his friends increasingly irritating behavior. Twice, they got up and knocked something over. At one point, while telling another gross story, Luca knocked over a glass and it shattered on the floor. But eventually, service was over, and Luca’s friends departed before they’d even sent the bill. None of them were going to pay: Luca would just tell us to comp it. And we’d comp it.

By the time we were cleaned up, Luca was still there, texting on his phone. Eventually, I came over to clean the table.

“Hey, beautiful,” he purred, and I felt a visceral sensation of disgust. Luca was notorious for flirting with the women in front-of-house, and I tried to ignore him.

“Hey,” I said cheerily, and cleaned up the last of the plates and the bottle. The restaurant was being vacuumed.

“What’s your name, hot stuff?” said Luca, and I rolled my eyes.

“Lola,” I said stiffly.

“Lola, be a dear and ask the chef if he can make me up a tiramisú.”

“I think the chefs are cleaning right now.”

“Well, would you just ask?” said Luca, rudely. “Not too much, is it? Gee, I’m really gonna have to talk to Alex about the service here these days.”

I said nothing, but turned and went into the kitchen. Around me, the cooks were scrubbing the ovens and the surfaces, mopping the floor, neatly labeling and putting things away in their fridges for the next day. When Gabriel, the head chef saw me, he sighed.

“What does he want now?” he said.

“Tiramisú,” I said, forcing a smile.

“Right. Hey, Giuliano! Guess what!”

From the back of the kitchen, the pastry chef swore.

I went out of the kitchen, shaking my head. But when I got there, Luca wasn’t at his table.

He was standing in front of the cash register behind the bar, with his back to me.

I stepped forward, and looked over the bar. My eyes widened.

Luca was pocketing money from the till.

“What are you doing?” I gasped. Cashing up that night was my responsibility, since Andy had gone downstairs to check up on the cellar, and it was Zeke’s night off.

He turned around, and grinned. “What does it look like, babygirl?”

“Don’t you babygirl me!” I hissed. “That’s our take! What’s Alex gonna say?”

Luca turned around and stepped towards me. His eyes gleamed under the lamps above, and he squared his shoulders. I took a step back. He was scaring me.

“Alex ain’t gonna say nothing,” he said. “Because you,” he explained, “ain’t gonna say nothing either.”

He pocketed the roll of bills and left through the front door.

***

The next day, when I came in for work, I was sent straight up to Zeke’s office.

When I got there, I closed the door behind me. Zeke was sitting in his chair, looking crestfallen. Alex was leaning against the desk. He wasn’t wearing a tie, and I felt myself grow a little hot under the collar when I saw his open throat, the soft hairs on his chest.

“Lola,” said Alex. “What was the take last night?”

“About thirty-thousand dollars,” I said, and I heard my voice shake as I spoke. “It’s on the sheet, right? I printed it off from the register.”

This was it. I knew it. I was about to be fired. Or worse, arrested.

“Thirty thousand, six hundred and ninety two,” said Zeke, tonelessly. “Eleven thousand, eight hundred and fifty-six in the register,” he added.

Zeke looked up at me, and even though I was scared, I thought, bless you Zeke. I could see he was praying that it wasn’t me.

“Last night, between the count and the time when you and Andy locked up,” said Alex quietly, “someone took four thousand dollars out of the register.”

I was shocked. I knew Luca had taken money. But that much?

“We’re just confused, Lola,” said Zeke. “We just want to know what’s going on.”

“Lola,” said Alex. “I know it wasn’t you.”

I said nothing.

“At least, that’s what I hope,” said Alex.

“It wasn’t me,” I said.

“Then who was it?” said Zeke.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. I shook my head.

“Lola,” said Zeke, “you’re scaring me, sweetheart. We just want to know who took the money. I promise you, nothing bad’s going to happen.”

I shook my head, then looked down.

And I thought about Macy.

About what she’d do if I got in trouble for something I knew I didn’t do. For a mistake, I knew I hadn’t made.

“It was Luca,” I said.

Alex sighed.

“Let’s go look at the CCTV,” he said.

***

As I was finishing my shift that evening, Luca arrived for a meeting. Andy told him to go upstairs. When he got there, he stood in the doorway.

“Hey, ‘Lex,” he said. “Hey Zeke.”

But Alex wasn’t wasting anyone’s time. He quickly and quietly explained what had happened. Zeke had come in to take the money to the bank. On any other day, Luca’s theft might have gone unnoticed. But unluckily for him, the money wasn’t put straight into the safe like normal on bank days. Instead, Zeke had taken it out and noticed the discrepancy.

“Luca,” said Alex. “I’m sorry, but I saw you. I looked it up on the cameras.”

Luca looked at Alex. Then he looked at me. “This thieving bitch…” he snarled.

“Don’t you talk about her that way, you scumbag!” said Zeke.

“You’d better watch who you’re talking to, asshole!” barked Luca. It was like a completely different person had taken over. The suave, slick guy we knew had gone, and in his place was a psychotic madman.

“Luca,” said Alex, “from this point on, you’re no longer operations manager for any of the businesses. I can’t revoke your stake in the company, but under the terms of the investment agreement…”

“Are you serious?” said Luca. “Are you fucking serious?” he repeated.

“I am,” said Alex.

“We are,” said Zeke.

Luca stood there, and suddenly I realized that he was shaking with rage. He took a step towards us.

“You’re gonna regret this, Alex Lowe. I promise you that. And you,” he said, turning on me. “You’re gonna wish you were never born.”

His hands reached out and were almost at my throat when a sound like thunder rang through the room.

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” bellowed Alex. He stepped across the room, and then he was standing between me and Luca.

Luca was breathing hard, and he’d completely freaked out. But even he knew better than to try and tackle Alex, who was twice his size, and a hundred times more fit.

“I’ll be seeing you in court,” he snarled, and turned. I heard him bounding down the stairs.

“Not an ideal end to the week,” murmured Zeke.

I didn’t know what to say. I hung my head, and began to cry.