Chapter 8

Eight

Haden

Ihave spent a good part of the last two weeks traveling.

The flying has become tedious, so I find myself staying days on end to fast track the transition of Indie Press.

The Fairmont is a nice place to crash at night, everything you could ask for from a five-star hotel, but I miss Presley and Masen. It isn’t the same, and it only pushes me to work harder so I won’t need to fly up anymore.

“I apologize for the delay in your travels down to LA,” I tell Cassandra, the Chief Editor, as we sit in her small office. My eyes wander around the room taking note of what appears to be expensive furnishings. The rent on this place is well over budget. I make a mental note to review this immediately.

“Our Editor-in-Chief, Presley, is inundated with work since we had a team member resign, and she is working on a new project with an extremely tight deadline.”

Cassandra’s stern gaze shifts toward her computer. For a chick digging chicks, she’s quite attractive, dressed rather feminine in a burgundy blazer and matching pants. Not like Presley’s sister, Gem, who thinks skater clothes are back in fashion.

“Just notify my assistant, and she can rearrange my schedule.”

“About your assistant,” I begin, stalling as I try to articulate the correct words. “Quite a high salary for someone out of college.”

She bunches her hands into her fist, pressing them on the table.

“Mr. Cooper, with all due respect, my staff has been carefully chosen amongst many who have applied for positions at Indie Press. Liesel had been with our company for over twelve months and has proven herself to be an asset. It would be a great loss to lose such talent.”

I’m bored by her undermining tone. Who the fuck does she think she is to question my judgment? Lucky for me, I call the shots, and Liesel will soon be out. Not even Presley or I have a personal assistant. Our structure is to create a solid team, everyone knows their responsibilities and no one, and I mean no one, slacks off under my watch.

“She’s a personal assistant. Not much to it, if you ask me. You either find her a role with less pay or she’s out.”

“Are you seriously asking me to create a role with less salary?”

“Well, you’re the one who wants to keep her. It would be naïve of you to think we can retain all the staff. We may be growing, but with that comes careful budgeting. We must spend money where it’s most profitable. Your assistant fetching your coffee and scheduling appointments is hardly worth the dollars.” I stand up, grabbing my phone. “Are we clear?”

She takes a deep breath, then meets my gaze. “Yes, Mr. Cooper.”

I am beyond ready to head home, checking my watch to make sure I can make my flight.

By the time I land back at LAX, it is just after eight. The traffic will have eased slightly, but it will still be another hour before I step foot inside my house.

Presley doesn’t complain, nor say a word about my traveling. She has been quiet of late, unopinionated, and not her usual feisty self. When I try to ask her what’s wrong, she simply tells me she is busy with work, and that’s it.

I don’t blame her as I feel the same way. We are growing too fast but can’t swing extra headcount in our budget. Marshall is relentless in his pursuit of making us the number one publishing house on the West Coast. Between him and Lex, the two of them are pushing me beyond my limits.

My Bluetooth lights up, prompting me of an incoming call.

“Cooper here,” I answer, exhausted.

“Well, hello there, Mr. Cooper.”

The voice, while familiar, comes from an unknown number.

“Who is this?”

A shrill of laughter follows. “I’m offended you don’t remember your ex-wife.”

Eloise. Shit.

It’s been years since I last spoke to her. Once our divorce finalized, there was no real reason to stay in contact with her. The last I heard, she had married some politician and ran an online magazine publication for women. Kudos to her, she was into all that feminist shit.

“Eloise, long time no speak.”

“Well, you’ve been busy as have I. How is Masen?”

“He’s good. Four years old already.”

“Nice,” she says, clearing her throat. “And Presley?”

I sense the bitter resentment toward Presley. After all, she is the reason why my marriage to Eloise didn’t make it past the reception.

“She’s doing well.” I cut the small talk short. “So, I assume you’re not calling to discuss my family?”

“No. Actually, I’m calling you because I have a proposition.”

I pull up at the lights, stopping at the red. “Go on.”

“You may or may not know, my company has grown over the last two years thanks to our online platforms gaining substantial followers. Our advertising revenue has tripled, and we’ll be adding a section dedicated to books written by female authors. We’re open to different genres as long as we can guest spot the author.”

Social media platforms with large followers have been our best advertising revenue. Noah, the expert in that area, has shown me trends and figures from each social media platform. There is no doubt that readers gravitate toward online versus retail.

“It sounds like quite some plan. So why do you need me?”

“Well, you run Lantern Publishing. You have key contacts I’d love to feature. Grace Harper alone has over two-hundred thousand followers on her fan pages.”

“So that’s it, you want Grace to feature?”

“I’d like her and many others. It’ll be a bi-weekly feature. What do you think?”

I pull into the driveway, turning the engine off. “Listen, it sounds great, but you need to run everything by Noah and he can see how this all fits. Pitch something to him, and if he thinks we can work with it, he’ll organize a meeting with his team.”

She squeals, girly, but very Eloise. “Thank you, Haden. We’ll chat soon.”

I hang up the phone, contemplating whether or not I should mention anything to Presley. Depending on her mood, I decide to keep it quiet until something eventuates, if anything.

The house is dark. As I make my way through the front door, leaving my suitcase in the hallway, I keep my footsteps quiet not to wake anyone. I’ve missed Masen and want to hear his voice plus see his tiny little face light up, but the exhaustion is overwhelming, and my own bed is heaven right now.

The door to our bedroom is closed. Pushing the door slowly, it begins to creak, stirring Masen who is asleep in our bed beside Presley.

Go figure, no chance of getting laid tonight.

Selfish me wants to wake her up, but she looks peaceful and probably needs the sleep after taking care of Masen for the last four days on her own.

I don’t bother retrieving my suitcase to unpack my things, showering quickly before hitting our spare room. Only last week, Presley purchased a nice bed because sleeping on the couch was becoming a regular occurrence. The second my head hits the pillow, I fall into a deep, much-needed sleep.

The weight of a body lays on top of me. It’s small and begins to giggle as I stir.

“Daddy, are you awake?”

I groan, rubbing my face. “Yeah, buddy.”

“Mommy asked if you want coffee.”

My arms wrap around his body, inhaling his scent. I missed him. He rips off my blankets, grabbing my hand to join him in the living room. I do so, reluctantly, barely able to keep my eyes open as I shuffle through the house.

Presley is in the kitchen, dressed and ready for work. She’s wearing that sexy black dress with the red belt. Fuck, I needed to be inside her like right now.

I lean in to kiss her cheek as she hands me a cup of coffee.

“You got in late?”

“You fell asleep early,” I point out. “You’re heading to work, now?”

“Yes, I’ve got an early meeting. Rosa has offered to watch Masen and take him to pre-school.”

I yawn, despite taking in a few sips of coffee. This shit needs to kick in quickly. My body is feeling like absolute crap. Noah’s late-night ramble at the bar the other night which led to way too many scotches is catching up with me now.

“I was thinking of working from home today. I need some peace and quiet after the last few hectic days.”

Her eyebrows rise a notch. “Wow, you never work from home?”

“I’m tired.”

She doesn’t press any further, almost welcoming my absence from the office. I swear there’s a slight skip in her step. Eyeing Presley from head to toe, she doesn’t appear worried about my curiosity. She leans in to kiss me goodbye, but I stop her, grabbing her wrist.

“What’s with you? You almost look happy I’m staying home.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says with a straight face. “You’re tired. I understand. Can you please let me go? I’m going to be late.” She pulls away, not leaning back for that kiss.

When the door shuts behind her, I sit quietly questioning my sanity. I’m able to think for a moment before Masen comes barreling through the house yelling in a panic.

“Daddy! Daddy! I lost my T-rex dinosaur Aunty Gemma bought me.” His eyes well up, lips quivering as he waits for me to respond.

“Hey...” I hop off the stool. “We can look for it, okay? I’m sure it’s around here.”

We spend the next hour searching the house. I lift the couch and get on my hands and knees to check under the beds. We go through his bedroom while I question him over and over again. He mentions playing in the kitchen, prompting me to search in there.

When I come up empty-handed, I text Presley, but she responds with the same places we have already checked.

I’m about to give up when an idea comes to mind. Despite my reluctance, I go outside and open the trash can. The dinosaur is small so it could have easily been amongst the things thrown out.

Thankfully, there are two bags inside.The first bag has empty food scraps, enough to make me dry heave, the second has a bunch of tissue.

There’s something hard.

I pull it out to reveal a pregnancy stick.

I scan the window area.

The test is positive.

“Daddy!” Masen comes running outside, waving his dinosaur. “I found it in my school bag.”

My brain stutters for a moment trying to gather some sort of response to give Masen. “Go inside, I’ll be there in a minute.”

He runs back inside as I continue to stare at the test. A surge of happiness sweeps through me, instantly lifting my mood. I’m going to be a dad, again. Being a father means everything to me. Masen is the best thing ever to happen in my life. And now, I get to feel that love all over again.

With a smile fixated on my face, I quickly get Masen ready for school and decide to head into the office. I don’t plan to stay, dressing in a pair of jeans and a polo shirt. My plan is to take Presley out to lunch to celebrate.

As I enter the office building, employees looked surprised to see me dressed so casually. I say hello, ignore anyone trying to stop me for a meeting, which could easily be written in an email until I’m standing inside Presley’s office.

Presley appears stunned, her mouth slightly open. “What are you doing here?”

I place the pregnancy test on her table. “Were you going to tell me?”

Her eyes wander to the stick, and almost instantly, her face drops into disappointment.

“I was trying to process.”

Moving behind her table, I beg her to stand so I can wrap my arms around her. I bury my head into her neck, smelling her intoxicating skin. Knowing that over the next eight months or so, I will get to watch her beautiful body change from carrying our baby, makes my heart sing like fucking crazy.

She pulls away, her body stiff as she straightens her posture.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m trying to finish this presentation for tomorrow.”

I’m surprised by her lack of joy but quickly remember the hormonal thing and decide to back off from my usual assumptions.

Let her go through the emotions.

Tomorrow she’ll be wanting to go stroller shopping and buying an entire store of baby clothes.

“Okay, I understand. But are you happy? I want to be there every step of the way this time.”

“Um... yeah,” she mumbles, distracted by an email on her screen. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be happy?”

I bring her hand to my lips, kissing it gently. “Okay, Mrs. Workaholic. I’ll let you get back to what you’re doing. How about lunch?”

She purses her lips, a small smile following. “I’m really busy.”

I raise my hands in the air, calling defeat. “Okay, okay, but tonight, you’re all mine.”

We both agree not to mention anything to anyone until the twelve-week mark, especially to Masen since he has a big fucking mouth. However, on the way home, I did tell Lex, knowing he will keep the information confidential.

“Congrats, this is where all the fun begins again,” he teases over the phone.

“I know,” I tell him. “It’s just Presley’s been acting off.”

“It’s that hormonal thing,” Lex reminds me. “One minute they’re up, the next they’re crying over some stupid fabric softener commercial.”

“Right, I guess I wasn’t around the first time, so I missed a lot of that.”

It wasn’t my choice exactly to be away from Presley during her pregnancy with Masen. Life back then was entirely different.

However, this time I want to be there every step of the way, already feeling a loss by not being there when she took the test, but now isn’t the time to tell her that. I didn’t want to rock the hormonal boat.

“Trust me, I’ve done this three times. Just go with the flow. Embrace the mood swings and be prepared to wake up at three in the morning on the hunt for butter pecan ice cream and Cheetos.”

Lex has a point. I need to man the fuck up, not sweat the small stuff because Presley has the hardest job of all.

“As long as I don’t have to push anything out, I’m good to do whatever.”