The Billionaire’s Risky Pregnancy

“Man’s a creep,” George muttered. “Don’t give him a second thought.”

But she would give him a third and a fourth if it meant the difference between her kids having a place to play or having to pay the price for so-called progress.

“Come on, Tasha,” George continued. “We’ll just go somewhere else.”

“Why do we have to be the ones to run and hide?” she demanded. “He’s the intruder.” Slamming her palm on the bar, Tasha called for another drink. And then another. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Smith Heller matching her shot for shot. Should she care that he had his arm around the blonde and was whispering something that might pass for sweet in her ear? Where did she work, and what was he going to tear out from under this other woman?

“Tasha, hold up a second!” She swatted George’s hand away, and even though her legs wobbled she made them work and glided towards the other end of the bar. As soon as his friends saw her, they looked as if they would have rather she slid down the hill and never got up to tell the tale.

“Private party, honey,” the bearded man said. “Smith’s got other business to attend to.” Meeting his smirk, she saw his green eyes flicker for a split second in the dim light of the bar. He could still make it right, tell her the loss of the playground was far from a done deal.

“You want to join us?” he teased. “Of course, you’ll have to play nice.” Even the blonde laughed as Smith drained his drink, and Tasha lifted her glass in a mocking toast before she shook her head.

“Never with a bully,” she said. “Man like you must be used to this.” She tossed what was left of her cranberry and vodka in his face. He absorbed the splash as the blonde squealed and backed off as his buddies whistled and clapped and made no move to help him. Leaving his barstool, Smith Heller stared Tasha down, his face dripping as he narrowed his eyes.

“I’ve been called worse,” he said. “And if anyone’s making like a bully now, I suggest you look in a mirror.” He had her there, and Tasha almost offered him a napkin from the bar when she found George’s hand and stood tall.

“Don’t do that reverse psych thing on me,” she said. “You’re the bas*ard. And you just hate the fact that I called you out on it.” She let George pull her away as his friends’ wolf whistles hit her back.

“That fucking son of a… who the hell does he think he is?” Ready to get behind the wheel and make her way home, George snatched the keys from her hand and tousled her braids.

“I’m driving,” he said.

“I’m not that far gone,” she insisted.

“My call, Tasha,” George said. “You best drink a lot of water if you’re going to get through tomorrow.”

She fell asleep before she could follow the order and woke up with the feel of cotton in her mouth.

*****

“TGIF!” Miss Morris exclaimed as Tasha hid behind dark glasses and tried to ward off her hangover. Should she have called out sick and let her little ones deal with a substitute? Not on Friday. She had promised them pizza for a week’s worth of work well done, and she pulled a flyer from her mailbox and unfolded it as she walked.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” she said as she scanned the words on the page. Slapping one hand over her mouth and praying that no one had heard her ready to fall off the cliff Tasha kept moving down the hallway until she ran into George.

“How are you doing today?” he asked.

“Please don’t talk,” she begged. “It hurts my head.”

“And you really think that you’re going to get through this day?” he asked. If only to show Smith Heller that he had no effect on her. If she had a say, she would never see the man again.

But the flyer told a different story.

“On a Friday?” she demanded as she pointed at the page. “Do you think he knew? Or is he just trying to mess with me?”

“Um… I think this had to be pre-planned,” he said. “But someone looks happy to see him again.” Crumpling the flyer in her hand, she let it fall to the yellow line on the floor meant to direct the children through the maze that was too many hallways. Tasha was suddenly happy to have the crude map to get her where she needed to go, and she was almost at her classroom when George called out.

“Don’t you want to like regroup and come up with a new plan of action?”

She wanted to be with her students. Kate looked lonely as she hung off to the side, and Tasha started to unpack her bag when David approached her with a bag of M&M’s. Contraband in these parts to be sure, but she watched without one word as he tore the package open with his teeth.

“You want some?” the little boy asked. “They’re really good.” Kate took one of the tiny chocolates and smiled as it melted in her mouth. Maybe there was something to the clichéd slogan. And she watched the little boy and girl make better friends as the time rolled on and they headed for the sandbox. The other lot was quiet, and she looked for Smith Heller without success. No matter. He was going to make his appearance known again in short order.

*****

“Now hear me out,” he said.

The auditorium grumbled. But for the most part it was not on account of his words. Everyone wanted to leave the week behind and know the freedom of two days off.

“Zach has a bouillabaisse waiting for me,” George said.

“And I have a couch,” Tasha countered. She heard her friend sigh and felt his hand in hers when the man on the stage cleared his throat.

“I know that some of you don’t see the point in our plan,” he continued. “But give it a chance and you’ll be all smiles.” There was a faint round of applause until Tasha stood up from her seat.

“Not me,” she said. “I think it’s a lowdown trick.” The entire room was silent, and Smith Heller stepped to the edge of the stage with a smirk,

“Why not, Miss…?”

“Tasha Finn,” she said. “And spare me the introductions. Because I know your name.” He laughed as he twirled the microphone around his fingers.

“My reputation precedes me.” The room filled with nervous titters, but Tasha stayed in his eyes.