THEIR BOARDROOM BABY

Micha hand raised to knock on the door, he was as surprised as Maria looked when she opened the door to find him standing there. But the last thing he expected was for her to slam it shut again.

     He blinked.

     Really? She was that childish.

     He waited. And then waited some more, getting even more annoyed. And if things continued like this, he’d have a heart attack from sheer irritation.

     ‘Maria, per favore, open the door,’ he called. ‘It’s not like you can ignore me.’

     Her silence objected to his statement.

     ‘Maria?’ He blew out a breath, ignoring the weight of the driver’s gaze from within the air-conditioned blacked-out-windowed town car.

     ‘Maria Aurora Guilia Gallo, open this door!’ he yelled.

     ‘I am not a child and you don’t get to talk to me like I am one, just because you are now officially the boss of everything,’ she fired back angrily through the door, in a—to his mind—very childish way.

     ‘Madonna mia, Maria, open the damn door,’ he said. The way the alliteration rolled around his mouth was familiar; tasting like affection, frustration and grief all at the same time. He was trying to parse his way through those feelings when she opened the door looking mutinous and absolutely glorious.

     Dio, it was a punch to his chest that knocked the air from his lungs and he was thankful that he was at least wearing his sunglasses to hide behind.

     Thick dark curls tumbled around her face, her cheeks flush with indignation, her eyes sparkling with fury and all he could think of was how she looked when she orgasmed and he forced himself to look away before he made a fool of himself.

     ‘Why are you here?’ she demanded, a large bin bag placed on the ground between them.

     ‘I’d rather not have this conversation on the doorstep.’

     ‘I’d rather not be having this conversation at all, but here we are,’ she shot back.

     He slipped his thumb and forefinger beneath the frame of his sunglasses and pinched his nose again. The tension headache that bracketed his temples was just getting worse and worse. He really didn’t need this.      He had very little time, maybe less than twenty-four hours to save the contract, and then get back to the rest of Gallo Group.

     ‘I need to speak to you about the Peterson account.’

     ‘Peterson? You need to… You’re here because…’ Her tongue swept out across her bottom lip before she pulled it beneath her teeth.

     ‘What did you think I’d be here for?’ Micha demanded, confused.

     Maria huffed out a bitter laugh and honestly? He didn’t know what was going on. Because she was the one who had quit after all. He’d have willingly continued to work with her because she was excellent at her job. And there was a small petty part of him that felt that Gallo Group might not have been in such a precarious position if she hadn’t quit.

     ‘Nothing. Absolutely nothing,’ she said, answering his question, turning her back on him and disappearing into the house, leaving Micha to move the bag blocking the doorway so that he could follow her.

     He walked into a large open-plan space that somehow managed to be both open and full of light, and yet cosy and calm. It was significantly different to the property she and her mother had lived in before Maria had left Rome.

     That had been dark, cluttered with books, paintings and expensive trinkets. Old money, with no taste was how he’d once thought of it, when he’d been there for one of the family gatherings. He’d never visited it when he and Maria had…

     He shut that thought down and followed her towards the kitchen, letting her put the long marble-top island between them for distance and safety.

     She avoided his gaze, fussing with coffee cups and the sleek machine that vibrated at an impossibly quiet hum. He watched her choose decaf and frowned. He was about to say something when she interrupted his train of thought.

     ‘What did you do?’ she said, her tone accusing but curious, as if in spite of herself. 

     ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, confused.

     ‘To Peterson. That account was safe, the client was happy. And you can’t afford to lose Peterson right now.’

     ‘Why do you think I did something?’ he bit out, angry at the assumption that he had somehow messed up, and choosing to ignore the warning that he was already very much aware of.

     ‘Because Peterson was happy. And now he’s not.’

     Micha rubbed his jaw. ‘He wants you to handle the contract renewal.’

     ‘I don’t work there any more,’ Maria said and he waved her statement aside with his hand.

     She narrowed her gaze at him. 

     ‘What did you do?’

     ‘It was an admin error,’ he explained.

     ‘What was?’

     ‘Contracts used an outdated template, and Peterson thought I was trying to pull a fast one. He says the trust is broken and the only person he’ll deal with is you.’

     ‘An admin error? And management didn’t think to check it?’

     ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve been a little busy in the last few months,’ he bit out angrily.

     ‘Poor you,’ Maria bit back as she plonked his espresso before him, barely managing to keep the coffee in the cup.

     As he took a sip, she shook her head.

     ‘No.’

     He had expected her to put up a fight. And he had come prepared. ‘I—’

     ‘No, Micha.’

     ‘You haven’t heard my offer yet.’

     ‘It won’t matter.’

     ‘You’ll be a consultant, and you’ll get an on-signing bonus worth ten percent of the contract,’ he explained.

     ‘No,’ she said again.

     ‘Fine. I’ll give you your job back with an increase in salary, and a promotion to senior vice-president.’

     ‘No.’

     ‘What?’ he replied, genuinely shocked.

     His offer was more than generous. It was so good it was almost bad business. And she would have known that. And she was still saying no? And even if it wasn’t good enough, surely the risk to a company that was as good as her lifeblood would be enough to get her on board.

     ‘There is literally nothing that you could offer me that would make me come back to Gallo Group and work under you. It’s yours. You handle it. And if that’s all?’

     Micha frowned, bracing against the punch of her words. He thought that she’d play hardball. That she’d take some convincing, but this flat-out refusal, this wasn’t stubbornness. Because he knew what stubbornness looked like on her. This didn’t even have the heat of outrage or anger. This was cold. This was…numb.

     ‘If you’ve finished your coffee, I’d like you to leave.’

     He clenched his jaw, stifling all the arguments and objections, the questions that thickened his throat. There was something going on here. She was definitely trying to get rid of him. But why?

     Her mobile rang just as he was going to press his point, and she let it ring as she stared at him until he raised his hands in surrender.

     ‘Va bene.’

     She reached for her phone, and asked Antonio’s wife to give her two minutes. He’d seen Ivy’s name flash up on the screen.

     Maria gestured for him to return to the door.

     ‘You can see yourself out,’ she said, turned her back on him and looked out through the large window that formed the back wall of the open-plan room.

     He had been dismissed and he didn’t like it one bit.

     ‘Ivy…No, not at all. How are you doing?’ he heard Maria ask in English.

     Turning on his heel, he walked to the door. He wasn’t going to beg her to come back. Yes, he needed her. But if Gallo Group had to continue without Peterson, he’d do that. But…it wasn’t Peterson that had him curious now. It was Maria.

     He closed the door behind him and stepped out into the sunshine.

     Something wasn’t right. He’d seen her furious, with him, he’d seen her grieving over Gio, he’d seen her pleasured and he’d seen her happy. He’d never seen her so…closed down. As if she was trying to hide something. But what?

                                                                                                            *

Maria cast a look over her shoulder, her heart pounding in her chest and blood rushing in her ears.

     ‘Are you okay?’ Ivy asked, worried, after Maria had explained that Micha was there. ‘How did he know where you are?’

     ‘Someone must have told him,’ Maria surmised.

     ‘Maria, I’m not sure about this. I really think I need to tell Antonio,’ Ivy wavered.

     ‘Please don’t,’ Maria begged. ‘Please. I just…I just need a little more time. And if Antonio found out, all hell would break loose.’

     ‘Perhaps it should break loose.’

     ‘Ivy!’

     ‘Sorry. I just think that this is too much for you to be dealing with on your own.’

     ‘It’s a lot, I know, believe me. But I just need some time. I need a plan. I need…’ Oh, she didn’t really know what she needed.

     Maria walked, unsettled, back through the house to the room where she’d been packing up her things. Her heart was still racing from having Micha here, in her home. He’d looked so…good. And so tired.

     A part of her had felt victorious about the Peterson account. That Micha was struggling to hold Gallo Group together. And that was a mean part of her. But honestly, it had been a dream of hers for him to come begging at her door, to tell her that he needed her. To beg for her help. For weeks, months even, she’d fantasised about him doing just that.

     So, how ironic was it that she’d had to say no? That she’d not even been able to take up his offer and prove just how vital she was to Gallo Group? Because she couldn’t. Negotiations would take at least two months, and by then…by then she’d be showing. And she wasn’t sure that even then she’d be ready…

     She swept a protective hand over her abdomen. Very few people could have guessed that she was pregnant at this moment. Would the father of her child have been one of them?

     ‘Ivy, if he finds out…’ Maria shuddered at the thought, unable to even finish the sentence. ‘I just need some time. And then, when I’m ready, I’ll tell Micha.’

     ‘Tell me what, cara?’

     Maria spun round in shock, coming face to face with Micha.

     ‘I saw you leave,’ she whispered in horror.

     ‘Well, I came back,’ he said, grim faced and hard eyed. ‘And now, I think it’s time that you tell me exactly what’s going on, whether you’re ready or not.’

     His gaze bored into hers, flicked down to where her hand was on her abdomen, and rose back up to hers, eyes widening, lips parting in shock.

     ‘You’re pregnant.’