Cordial was really the best word for their relationship. But she didn’t want to hurt Kiki’s feelings, especially if the girls were living at the castle and would be around while she was visiting. And she knew what it was like to pine for a bit of Stijn’s attention. “He might have once or twice,” she lied.
Kiki lit up and cast her sisters an excited look. “See?”
“So why are you here?” Purple Tiffi asked, gnawing on a baby carrot she plucked from her salad.
“Vader is being awarded Businessman of the Year by Prospectus magazine in a few months. He wants to throw a large party to celebrate it, and he wants me to coordinate it.” She spooned her soup carefully, but her insides were starting to be upset again.
“Oooh, a party!” Pink Bunni wiggled in her seat. “Stijn throws the best parties!”
“What kind of party?” Purple Tiffi asked.
“Um, a celebration party?” What a strange question.
“I mean, will there be strippers?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Or will it be a costume party? Do I need to practice jumping out of a cake?”
Greer blinked. “No? You just need to show up. It’s a formal party.”
“Ohhh.”
Greer pushed her soup aside, because now the smell was starting to be nauseating. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I think I need to excuse myself.”
“It’s the animal hormones in your soup, isn’t it? I can smell it from here,” Bunni said sympathetically. “You should go vegan.”
“No animals were harmed with celery,” Tiffi agreed, waving a stalk at Greer.
Greer shook her head and pressed a hand under her nose as she got to her feet. “I’m fine. It’s not the chicken. I just . . . certain smells make my stomach react poorly.”
Kiki tilted her head. “Smells?”
“I’m sure it’s just a stomach bug. It’s been following me for a few days.”
The blue triplet nodded slowly. “Better at night?”
Actually, yes. Greer paused. “Have you been sick, too? Is it something going around?”
“God, I hope not,” Kiki said with a giggle. “You want to borrow a pregnancy test?”
***
Greer was pregnant.
She’d taken three of Kiki’s pregnancy tests, silently willing each one to show a negative. Each time, a bright positive sign streaked across the stick moments after she used it. Well, crap.
Asher had gotten her pregnant. That one horrible interlude in the gardens at Gretchen’s party had fucked her over. She was unwed and she hated the father of the child in her belly. Well, this wasn’t a situation she’d ever imagined herself getting into, especially after her mother’s bad example.
Kiki was nothing but sympathy. “Don’t worry,” she said when Greer emerged from the bathroom, pale and unhappy. “There’s still plenty of time to take care of things. I know a great doctor. You want her number?”
A doctor? To get rid of it? “Not yet,” Greer said faintly. The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back. Not ever. This wasn’t planned, but Greer hadn’t been a planned child, either. She’d been a mistake between two people who no longer liked each other. She couldn’t get rid of her own child for the same reasons. Her hands went to her stomach. Like it or not, she was having a baby.
And Greer was going to give this child the best, happiest life she possibly could, she thought fiercely. No nannies and tutors. No squirreling her child away to the back of the house because it was inconvenient. Greer’s baby would be loved and know it was loved at all times, even if it didn’t have a father in the picture.
But it would be a change. A big, big change. Holy crap. She got a little faint just thinking about it.
She went to her room in a daze and took another nap. When she woke up, she was mentally refreshed, and convinced that the tests were right. Of course she was pregnant. Asher hadn’t used a condom. She was getting sick at all kinds of smells, and her stomach acted up in the morning. Her breasts were tender, and her period was due in about three days, but she suspected it’d be a no-show. Greer googled pregnancy symptoms and it seemed that one could start getting sick as early as three weeks after conception.
Well, that certainly fit the timeframe for her sex with Asher. Actually, she couldn’t even call it that. She’d refer to it as an unwanted sperm donation at this point, because sex implied she might have gotten some pleasure out of it, and that certainly wasn’t the case.
For a moment, she thought about unblocking Asher’s number and texting him. Telling him he got her pregnant and reveling in his panic. She could force him to pay child support, and wouldn’t that be ironic? He was a billionaire, but he was a billionaire only because of her; back when his business had nearly collapsed, she’d secretly given him five million dollars and pretended it was from her father. Milking him for child support would have a vicious sort of justice to it.
But she discarded the idea as quickly as it came. She didn’t want her baby to be a problem. She certainly didn’t want her child to be a weapon between angry, battling parents. Been there, done that. She didn’t want to mess with Asher. Actually, she never wanted to see him again. This would be her child and hers alone. Her hands went to her flat stomach, imagining what her body would look like when the baby started to round it out.
A knock sounded at the door. “Miss Greer?” One of the butlers.
She sat up. “Yes?”
“Mr. Stijn’s returned home if you wish to talk to him.”