39. The Godmother Conundrum

Chapter 39

The Godmother Conundrum

Megan

I ’m finally discharged from the hospital three days later, and for now, I return to my apartment, which I still share with Naomi and Lena, both of whom are thrilled about the news of my pregnancy.

“So, when’s the due date?” Naomi asks excitedly as I look around the room at the ‘welcome home’ decorations.

I already had a feeling that Vaughn and Christian would be here, according to Lena, the two of them were often at the apartment. I think she may have a little crush on Christian, but of course, something between them could never happen in a million years. She’s barely legal. I’m not sure how they roped Parker and Lars into being here, too, but they are.

“Sometime in November,” I tell her.

“Ooh, I hope she’s a Scorpio. She’s going to be a wild one.”Naomi immediately looks at me and asks in her typical demanding voice, “I’m the Godmother, right?”

“Wait, what?” Lena looks dismayed. “But I’m the aunt, and I want to be Godmother.”

“Get in line, kid,” Naomi gestures with a wave of her hand. “I was here first. Plus, you’re already blood-related to the kid. Don’t be greedy.”

“You’re not the Godmother,” Hunter tells Naomi, frowning. “We’ve got better–“

“Congratulations,” I hug Naomi, completely cutting Hunter off before he says something beyond rude. “Of course, you’re the Godmother!”

“What about me?” Lena pouts miserably, and I take her hand.

“Well, you’re going to be her aunt, so it’s an equal privilege.”

Vaughn frowns, “Wait, so who’s the Godfather? Have you decided? Me or Christian?”

“You can’t seriously care about any of that,” Hunter gripes.

“Hell yeah, we do.”

“Christian?” Hunter looks for a more appropriate response from him.

“I’d take the commitment seriously if I was selected,” Christian offers, completely blindsiding Hunter. He wasn’t expecting either of his friends to be so interested in the role in our baby’s life.

I think it’s sweet.

I smile. “I figured that Hunter wouldn’t want to choose between the two of you, so I decided that you both get to split the privilege. There’s no rule that a baby can only have one Godfather.”

Vaughn and Christian start to spar with each other about who would be a better role model for the tiny little person inside me. Then, they drag Lars and Parker into it, asking them to pick a side and back it up with a reasonable argument.

It’s hysterical and kind of messy, but it’s my life now.

These people in this room are my new family. I’ve gone from a house filled with people who despised me to a tiny apartment where I was often struggling to make rent, to all of this.

“How are you feeling?” Hunter asks as he helps me adjust my position on the couch. “Are you in any pain?” His hand rests on my abdomen.

“I'm a little sore but nothing too uncomfortable.”

I won’t admit this to Hunter because he would insist that I take pain medication or, worse, go back to the hospital, but I’m still in a lot of pain. I just don’t want to ingest any unnecessary medicine that could affect the baby. I don’t know much about being a good mother, but what I do know is that I need to give this baby the best pregnancy I can, especially since he or she has had such a stressful start.

“Your face seems tight,” he says, always the observant partner.

“I didn’t say I was pain-free. I said it wasn’t unbearable.”

“I think you just need a good meal instead of that bland hospital crap and maybe a little trash tv?” Naomi interjects. “We can watch the new bachelorette hand out roses.”

“Have you told her yet?” Hunter asks me, no doubt, purposely in front of Naomi.

“Told me what?” She frowns.

“Can I speak with you for a minute, Hunter?” I ask with a clipped tone. “Right now.”

“Tell me what?” Naomi demands to know.

“I’ll be right back,” I tell her. “Can you order us some of that good Mexican we had like last time?”

“Uh, okay.”

“Get enough for everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Here.” Hunter hands Naomi his American Express card. “Use this.”

“I can freakin’ pay for Mexican food,” she practically spits back at him, refusing the card as she walks away.

Once the two of us are inside my bedroom, I push him to sit down on the edge of my bed, and I place my palms firmly on his shoulders.

“We’ve been through hell and back, and I trust you with my life, but what the fuck is going on with you and Naomi?”

“I’m sorry?” He gives a subtle grin as if he’s actually amused by my question.

“Don’t feign ignorance now. You’ve been a jerk toward her since the moment you met. I need to know why.”

"This sounds like a conversation you should be having with her. She’s the one who can’t stand me."

"Since when do you care about people liking you?"

"Sit down, baby." He gently seats me on his lap.

"Don’t flirt with me."

"I’m not flirting." But he obviously is, using that sexy voice of his that can almost persuade me to do anything.

"Your friends are right outside that door. We can't flirt right now."

"Flirt or fuck?"

"Hush." I place a finger on his lips to quiet him.

He kisses it.

"Do you realize this is the first time we’ve been alone together in almost a week?" he asks.

Then he gingerly kisses the bit of skin revealed by my v-neck shirt.

"I’m well aware of that, Hunter, but you’re changing the subject," I say as I find myself wrapping my arms around his neck, snuggling further into his embrace where I feel safe and loved.

"You’re looking for some complicated reason why your roommate and I mix like oil and water. There isn’t one."

Hunter’s lips form a small, closed-mouth smile, and my stomach churns with unease. That smile is his tell.

“Oh my god. You’re lying,” I try pulling away from him, but he won’t release me that easily.

“Megan, don’t get yourself worked up. You just got out of the hospital.”

“You’re lying!”

He sighs heavily.

“Everyone who cares about you is outside in your living room, and this is the conversation you want to have right now?”

“You started it! You wanted me to tell her right then and there that I was moving out. Why?”

“What do you know about Naomi?”

“I know that she’s the only real friend I’ve ever had.”

“Who disappears for weeks at a time.”

“Stop trying to make it sound so ominous. She doesn’t disappear. She goes home to visit her family a lot.”

“Her family in New Orleans?”

“New Orleans?” That’s not where Naomi told me where she’s from, but people can have family anywhere. “I never asked for her travel itinerary. I just know she visits them somewhere .”

“Naomi’s actual last name is Fabre. Did you know that? Her family has an old Creole heritage dating back to well before the civil war.”

“Okay, so?”

“The Fabre’s are a notorious crime family in the bayou.”

“Crime family? Be serious.”

“She’s not using her real name, and she never told you any of this, which tells me that she’s either running or working some sort of hustle for them. If I discovered who she is, then you can best believe her family already knows that she’s here, so I don’t trust her, and neither should you.”

“Wait, you’re telling me that Naomi is like some sort of a mob princess?”

“That’s what I’m saying, and if you think I’m bad, wait until you meet her family. They’re ruthless.”

I’m speechless.

And if it's actually true, I'm hurt.

“If she’s working some sort of hustle, what would it be? Why would I have anything to do with it? I'm penniless. I'm nobody."

“Don't say that. You are somebody."

"You know what I mean."

"I’m not saying that you're a target of it or that she doesn’t actually care about you. She probably does. But it’s no accident that a Fabre is in Los Angeles. That family is up to something. Maybe they’re trying to make a move in LA? I don’t know. I just know that you need to create some distance from her and moving in with me is a start. Making Lena the godmother of our baby would be another.”

My heart aches.

On one hand, I’m hurt that Naomi could keep her past hidden from me like this but on the other hand, I have to at least try and understand it. It’s her life. Her business. And if her family is dangerous, I can understand why she’d want to stay tight-lipped about it.

“Have you already said something to her about this?”

“No, she was the least of my concerns when I had Jonathan to contend with. But I will say…for a while, I believed that she might have had some hand in what was going on with me. Jonathan wasn’t acting alone. He wasn’t smart enough. Her family has the money and the cache to pull those kinds of strings.”

“Wait, I need to stop you right there. You’re reaching and stretching right now. Naomi had no idea I was going to work at the Blue Whiskey or meet you.”

“True, but–”

“And Steve was up to no good well before I started working there.”

“Maybe, but things escalated once I moved you both into my apartment. What if–”

“She would never betray me like that, Hunter! You’re being paranoid about everyone and everything because of the people from your world…not mine.”

I grimace in pain.

“Calm down, Megan. You’re hurting yourself.”

He uses a calm tone that feels very patronizing. A tone I’ve heard him use with people who work for him at the club. I stand up and back away, pointing at him.

“This isn’t right.”

“What isn’t right?”

“This?”

“You mean us?”

His face hardens.

“The fact that you want me to cut my friend out of my life doesn't sit right with me.”

“Which is why I waited to say something.”

“Really, because if I didn't force you to come clean, it doesn't seem like you were ever going to say anything about your suspicions."

"I was protecting you."

"Hunter, what I need is your support, not your protection. Stop trying to control everything and everybody."

“So now I’m trying to control you?”

I can feel the anger rolling off of him.

“I just think we need a minute.”

“A minute for what?”

“Let me rephrase that. I think I need a minute.”

“A minute for what, Megan?” He repeats with a sterner tone. "You're pregnant with my child."

Suddenly, there’s a soft knock at the door.

“Is everything okay in there?” Lena asks. “The food’s here.”

I’m looking defiantly into Hunter’s eyes as he continues to examine mine. After a tense pause, Hunter answers his sister.

“Me and the guys will be taking our food to go, Lena.”

Fine, I think to myself.

Get out then!

But I don’t say any of that out loud because my heart won’t allow it. Instead, I just watch him stand, adjust the cuffs of his white collared shirt, and walk out of my apartment without another word to me.

After Hunter and all of his friends exit behind him, Naomi leans against the kitchen counter, takes a bite of her burrito, and asks with a smirk, “Aww, did mommy and daddy have their first fight?”

The nerve.

I’m going to give this mystery mafia princess a piece of my mind next.