One Foolish Night
Page 17
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“I’m seeing somebody!” Paul snapped without thinking.
Even his father raised his eyebrows at that, while his mother’s chin dropped. “Who?”
“You don’t know her.”
His mother leaned over the table. “You never mentioned anybody before.”
“I’m mentioning her now.”
His mother raised her chin in the air and sat back. “You’re lying. You’re just making this up because you want to hurt me.”
Paul gritted his teeth. He hated it when his mother played the guilt card. “I’m not lying. I’m in a relationship with somebody.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Really? What’s her name?”
“Holly!” The word was out before he could even think. It was the one female name constantly inhabiting his mind, so it was no surprise that it had slipped out.
“Holly?” Her nose lifted higher, if that was even possible. “That can’t possibly be your girlfriend’s name. You’re making it up.”
Paul rose, pushing his chair back. “Am I? Well, you’ll meet her when I bring her with me for your anniversary party. Satisfied?” He glared into the shocked faces of his parents. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have a business meeting to get to.”
He turned on his heel, not listening to his father calling him back. Instead, he marched straight to the maitre d’.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Gilbert?”
“You could say that, Carl. However, none of it is your or the restaurant’s fault.” Paul dug into his pocket and pulled his credit card from his wallet. “Would you please charge the champagne and whatever else my parents are ordering to my card?”
The maitre d’ nodded and took the card. “Of course, Mr. Gilbert. It’ll be just a second.” He disappeared into the pantry.
Paul tapped his foot impatiently, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. It was time that he showed his parents that they couldn’t run his life for him. Up until now, he’d pandered to their wishes and played the obedient son. He’d even gone out with some of the eligible bachelorettes from excellent families, hoping his parents would realize that he wasn’t interested in any of them and finally give up their hapless matchmaking. It appeared that his parents needed to be told a little less subtly that he made his own choices when it came to women.
8
“Congratulations, Ms. Foster. You’re pregnant.”
Holly’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “But—but—” She swallowed, her mind racing. “That’s impossible. I always use condoms.”
Dr. Schaffer leaned over her desk and inclined her head so that a strand of her straight brown hair fell forward. “But Ms. Foster, you must know that condoms are not one hundred percent effective. Even if used correctly, there’s still a two percent chance of a pregnancy. And if not used properly, the rate can be as high as eighteen percent.”
“I know how to use a condom properly,” Holly shot back. After all, while she’d been an escort, it had been essential to make sure she was protected at all times.
“Yes, I’m certain you do. And I know you’re a very cautious woman. But when I had to take you off the Pill so we could remove the cyst in your uterus three months ago, I believe I mentioned that there was a higher risk of getting pregnant if you used condoms as your only method of contraception.”
Numbly, Holly clenched her hands.
“You’re only about eight weeks along,” the doctor continued.
Eight weeks. She counted backward, though she didn’t really have to. She knew exactly where she’d been eight weeks ago and with whom. There was only one man who could have gotten her pregnant. Though she had no idea how it had happened.
Paul had used a condom every single time they’d had sex that night. Then again, things had been heated, and it was possible that the condom had slipped and released some of his semen when he’d pulled out of her, without either of them noticing.
She knew that condoms weren’t foolproof. That was why she’d always taken the Pill for additional protection. It was just her bad luck that a few weeks before her friend Sabrina’s wedding, her doctor had discovered a cyst during a routine examination and recommended that it be removed immediately. Upon her urging, Holly had stopped the Pill to reduce any undue risk during and after the procedure and had not resumed taking it by the time of her sexual encounter with Paul.
Apparently that had been a mistake.
“I understand this is a lot to take in. Obviously this wasn’t planned. Maybe after you’ve had some time to think this through, you’ll want to come back and see me. And if you then decide not to—”
Even his father raised his eyebrows at that, while his mother’s chin dropped. “Who?”
“You don’t know her.”
His mother leaned over the table. “You never mentioned anybody before.”
“I’m mentioning her now.”
His mother raised her chin in the air and sat back. “You’re lying. You’re just making this up because you want to hurt me.”
Paul gritted his teeth. He hated it when his mother played the guilt card. “I’m not lying. I’m in a relationship with somebody.”
Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Really? What’s her name?”
“Holly!” The word was out before he could even think. It was the one female name constantly inhabiting his mind, so it was no surprise that it had slipped out.
“Holly?” Her nose lifted higher, if that was even possible. “That can’t possibly be your girlfriend’s name. You’re making it up.”
Paul rose, pushing his chair back. “Am I? Well, you’ll meet her when I bring her with me for your anniversary party. Satisfied?” He glared into the shocked faces of his parents. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have a business meeting to get to.”
He turned on his heel, not listening to his father calling him back. Instead, he marched straight to the maitre d’.
“Is there a problem, Mr. Gilbert?”
“You could say that, Carl. However, none of it is your or the restaurant’s fault.” Paul dug into his pocket and pulled his credit card from his wallet. “Would you please charge the champagne and whatever else my parents are ordering to my card?”
The maitre d’ nodded and took the card. “Of course, Mr. Gilbert. It’ll be just a second.” He disappeared into the pantry.
Paul tapped his foot impatiently, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder. It was time that he showed his parents that they couldn’t run his life for him. Up until now, he’d pandered to their wishes and played the obedient son. He’d even gone out with some of the eligible bachelorettes from excellent families, hoping his parents would realize that he wasn’t interested in any of them and finally give up their hapless matchmaking. It appeared that his parents needed to be told a little less subtly that he made his own choices when it came to women.
8
“Congratulations, Ms. Foster. You’re pregnant.”
Holly’s heart plummeted into her stomach. “But—but—” She swallowed, her mind racing. “That’s impossible. I always use condoms.”
Dr. Schaffer leaned over her desk and inclined her head so that a strand of her straight brown hair fell forward. “But Ms. Foster, you must know that condoms are not one hundred percent effective. Even if used correctly, there’s still a two percent chance of a pregnancy. And if not used properly, the rate can be as high as eighteen percent.”
“I know how to use a condom properly,” Holly shot back. After all, while she’d been an escort, it had been essential to make sure she was protected at all times.
“Yes, I’m certain you do. And I know you’re a very cautious woman. But when I had to take you off the Pill so we could remove the cyst in your uterus three months ago, I believe I mentioned that there was a higher risk of getting pregnant if you used condoms as your only method of contraception.”
Numbly, Holly clenched her hands.
“You’re only about eight weeks along,” the doctor continued.
Eight weeks. She counted backward, though she didn’t really have to. She knew exactly where she’d been eight weeks ago and with whom. There was only one man who could have gotten her pregnant. Though she had no idea how it had happened.
Paul had used a condom every single time they’d had sex that night. Then again, things had been heated, and it was possible that the condom had slipped and released some of his semen when he’d pulled out of her, without either of them noticing.
She knew that condoms weren’t foolproof. That was why she’d always taken the Pill for additional protection. It was just her bad luck that a few weeks before her friend Sabrina’s wedding, her doctor had discovered a cyst during a routine examination and recommended that it be removed immediately. Upon her urging, Holly had stopped the Pill to reduce any undue risk during and after the procedure and had not resumed taking it by the time of her sexual encounter with Paul.
Apparently that had been a mistake.
“I understand this is a lot to take in. Obviously this wasn’t planned. Maybe after you’ve had some time to think this through, you’ll want to come back and see me. And if you then decide not to—”
