29. Clara

29

CLARA

I t took less than a week to find out what Harrington meant, and it amounted to an interview with Laurel Price, a prestigious journalist in the architecture world. Laurel was the kind of woman who took sass to a whole new level. She’d made her way up the corporate ladder in her own way and had taken over the company where she’d started as a lowly intern. She ran Architecture International with an iron fist and enough laughter to keep me grinning all the way up until a camera zoomed in on my face and a red light blinked on.

“Keep looking at me, and don’t worry about anything.” Laurel crossed her ankles, her knee-length red skirt showing a flash of leg that would never make it onto the screen. I’d watched enough of her interviews since taking her call to feel comfortable in my beige sweater dress pulled snug around my waist. The table in front of us blocked us both from the chest down. “We’ll talk for a few minutes until you’re warmed up. These first few minutes will be edited out.”

But she would not edit out any of my responses. The filming took place in one continuous shot, no stops, no edits. Whatever she said would be released into the world. “Thank you.”

Laurel waved one hand at her. “It’s my job, sweetheart. But I’m truly thrilled to have you on today. I’ve gone through your career step-by-step. Can you tell me when you first knew that you wanted to be an architect?”

“I was young, maybe six.” I eased into the story, relaying it to her as I remembered it. Building up the platforms with my blocks and bricks and seeing how things fit together. What made them sturdy and what weakened them. By the time I finished, my cheeks ached from smiling.

“And how has that translated to your new role as a freelancer?” Laurel’s teeth flashed in that welcoming smile. “You were the mastermind behind the latest Harrington project, and I speak for all of us here when I say it’s remarkable.”

“Thank you.” A beat of hesitation locked my throat before I pushed through. “My father would have loved the whole aspect of Mr. Harrington’s dream. He used to tell me that the sky wasn’t the limit, only my imagination was.”

Remembering Dad and the few memories we had together gave me courage. He had always wanted me to reach for my dreams.

“You don’t talk much about your father. I’m curious, as I’m sure our audience is as well. How much influence has he had in the pursuit of your architecture dreams?” Laurel’s face held no guile, nothing but open curiosity.

I stopped worrying about the cameras, the lights, what the interview would look like once it aired and was printed. Laurel had the market on video, audio, and print. My words would be on her social channels, her podcast, and her magazine.

“Dad was amazing. He was the kind of man who dreamed big and lived bigger. Between him and Mom, I never had a chance of becoming anything less than what I am. Mom’s a fighter, a survivor. She taught me how to hold on and fight back when it feels like the whole world is against you.” I warmed to the subject but made myself stop talking to await Laurel’s next question.

The babies shifted in my belly, and I barely managed to keep from wincing when one rolled across my bladder.

“You certainly took the world by storm when you left Summit and struck out on your own. I understand there’s a bit of a story there, but I’ll leave it to you to elaborate.” Hope sparked in Laurel’s eyes. She wanted the dirt but wasn’t the kind of journalist who worked in rumor and gossip.

“A lot happened during my time with Summit. They are an amazing company and I wish all of them the best.” I could say that now that Allan was behind bars. “The simple fact is, Laurel, I fell in love with my bosses.”

A moment of shocked silence reverberated through my bones. Laurel leaned forward and set her chin in her palm, her elbow on the table. Delight lit up her eyes and a bright smile curved her lips. “There’s nothing better than a good love story.”

I nodded and rubbed a hand over my belly. The camera might not pick up the action, but I didn’t care. “I didn’t get to spend enough time with my dad. He died when I was very young, but he was an amazing man. So are Alexander, Liam, and Ethan. They will be great fathers. Our children will have a world where their fathers are always present. They’ll know they are loved and cherished.” Emotions clogged my throat, stopping me until I took several sips from the water Laurel provided me.

“Sounds wonderful.” Laurel remained focused on me.

“It is. Children should know they’re loved. They deserve parents who are present in the best way possible. That’s what they will give our children, along with stability and every opportunity to become amazing adults.” I took another sip. “And we’ll create some buildings that will blow the lid off the architecture world.”

“That’s what I want to hear.” Laurel smacked the table and directed the rest of the interview with quick, easy-to-answer questions that gave my mind plenty of time to churn its way through the chance of a lifetime.

Laurel and I ended the interview with a hug, and I made my way home. A nap was in my near future, but I’d enjoy the rush of adrenaline as long as it would carry me. I grabbed my laptop from the counter and settled in on the couch with my swollen feet propped on the coffee table. The bag of clothes Liam had brought sat beside my feet. I’d gone through them once, in awe of the outfits he’d chosen. Cute animals covered each of the onesies, the soft yellow and green pastels a far cry from his usual bold reds, purples, and greens. I tipped the bag over with my toes and stretched forward to drag the hangers close enough to pick up.

Three identical onesies splayed across my stomach, I cracked open my laptop and navigated to my email. “It’s unreal that you three fit in there.” I patted the outfit in the middle. “I can’t wait to meet you, and neither can your fathers. You’re going to love them. We already love you so much.”

A series of dings from my inbox drew my attention. I scrolled through the list, each of them with varied versions of the same headline asking for my availability for a new project. I clicked the first one and read it all the way through, then the next. A few looked like legit offers I’d be interested in pursuing once I finished a deep dive into the company. I’d learned not to say yes to every project a long time ago. I had the freedom—though not quite the financial stability—to be picky about who I chose to work with.

When the emails bored me, I hopped over to my website. A smile broke free when I opened the blog and started a new entry. Last week’s post had gathered a bit of attention from the green architecture community. I endeavored to keep them coming back with new ideas and designs that could be incorporated around the world.

A kick created a round knob in my belly. I rubbed a hand over the lump and grinned at the ripple that passed over my skin, pushing the onesies off to one side. “You’re a wild one, huh? What’s wrong? Are your siblings crowding you?” Another kick, followed by what I’d started describing as a tussle where all three moved at the same time, took my breath away. “Easy now. I’m not made of rubber. I only stretch so far.” And I’d pretty much reached my limit.

The next two days passed in a steady rhythm of studying companies who’d offered me jobs, setting up interviews to discuss the vision of the companies I’d chosen to work with, and enjoying every quiet moment with short naps that kept me refreshed.

One thing was missing. Well, three things, really. I missed my men. My entire body ached from the pregnancy, but it was nothing compared to the longing in my heart that built higher with every passing second. I’d promised we would talk once work was finished.

We’d made it as far as me agreeing that they’d done the right thing with Allan. I’d tried to forgive them for keeping me in the dark, and it helped that they’d promised never to do that again.

By the time my interview posted, I’d almost resigned myself to living the rest of my life like this, in a perpetual state of not knowing.

Laurel had assured me the interview would post at exactly noon. I waited, my hands clasped over my stomach and my head rested on the back of the couch. I wasn’t sure what I waited for, just that the moment felt sacred. This was the moment I’d worked so hard for. I had a great career as a freelancer, doing the work that I loved. I was about to be a mother, something I’d wanted for myself, though I’d thought it would happen later, like maybe my thirties.

The biggest kicker of all, I had three men who’d professed their love for me, and I was ignoring them. Not ignoring them, exactly, I reminded myself. I was evaluating if we truly had a future together.

The answer came two minutes before noon. I snatched up my phone and sent a group text to all three. “I love you more than I thought possible for a person to ever love someone. That’s why it’s taken me so long to admit that I don’t want to live without you.”

I hit send and closed my eyes. My phone buzzed in my hand, a continuous wave that went on for a full minute. It paused, then started again. I peeked one eye open. Three texts were in response to mine, but the rest, the absolute chaos that blew my notifications into the stratosphere, were from my interview.

Mouth dry and heart in my throat, I read the text messages first. All three men responded that they understood why I’d needed time. They didn’t ask if I was sure, but they did congratulate me on the interview and my newfound stardom.

“Stardom?” I frowned and turned to my computer since it was easier to navigate. My blog numbers exploded upward, going from a hundred followers to three thousand in ten minutes, then continued to climb.

All my socials were inundated with followers. Emails poured in so fast my vision blurred trying to keep track. What was I supposed to do with all this? I couldn’t possibly read and respond to every email. And the comments on my blog? They skyrocketed, peaked, then shot up again. Some were troll comments, of course. The keyboard warriors came out in full force anytime anyone did something like this. I’d built up a thick enough skin to ignore the hatefulness. I blocked and deleted the worst of them until the need for a nap pulled me down on the couch with my favorite blanket tucked under my chin.

A knock startled me awake. I jumped, cursed the sudden movement, and sat up. Hints of evening light slipped through the front windows. My side lamp was still on, the golden glow giving me a chance to shuffle to my feet without tripping over anything. I eased toward the door.

Did I ask who was there? What if some of the weirdos from online had found my home address? Damn it. I should’ve made sure all of that was secure. Ethan had offered to help me.

I gripped my phone tight enough for the case to bite into my fingers.

“Clara?” Ethan’s sultry voice penetrated the door. “It’s us.”

How was it that he understood my sudden insecurity? I unlocked the deadbolt and yanked the door open.

A gasp locked my frame so fast I swayed and had to grab the doorframe to keep my balance.

All three men were on one knee on my stoop. Alexander was in the front, with Ethan behind his left shoulder and Liam behind his right.

Alexander held up a gold box, the lid open to reveal a beautiful sapphire nested in a crown of diamonds that glittered despite the failing light. “Clara, we messed this up once before by not telling you everything,” Alexander started.

Liam scooted forward, resting his forearms on his bent knee. “We swear to never do anything like that again.”

“We not only want to love and protect you, but to cherish and encourage you.” Ethan stayed still, his entire body rigid as though he expected a harsh rejection from me.

“Would you do the honor of becoming our wife?” Alexander raised the ring. “We had this made for you.”

“Your…wife?” How was that supposed to work? Hell, did I really care? This was the last thing I’d expected when I started working at Summit. I’d wanted one hell of a career, and now I had that. I’d made Mom proud with my tenacity. Falling in love with my three bosses hadn’t crossed my mind, but once it happened, they’d become a part of me. Our worlds collided and there was no picking up the pieces and moving on without them.

“We want you to belong with all of us, and for us to belong with you.” Liam motioned at the ring. “We can’t all marry you legally, but we can have a promise ceremony. Ethan looked it up.”

Ethan, to his credit, never once looked away from me.

“Yes.” I held out my hand toward Alexander.

They smiled at the same time, a rainbow of happiness that brought me into the center of their world.

Alexander slid the ring in place and kissed my palm before he stood and hugged me tight. Ethan and Liam closed in from the sides. This was where I belonged. I’d never expected my life to turn out like a fairytale, but it had. The only difference? I had three princes instead of one.