Victoria The Billionaires Maid

“I wish you were the father,” I told her. We laughed and I cried again. Finally, I fell asleep on the couch and when I woke up a few hours later, Liz had covered me up with the afghan and left me a note telling me she’d gone out with some girls from work.

She was such a worry-wart that at the bottom of the note it said, “Do Not Hesitate To Call If You Need Me!” She is a good friend. I got up and went in to do my nightly ritual of face washing and moisturizing etc.

The whole time, I kept wondering if I should call Jason and at least feel him out about the baby.

As I said, I wasn’t expecting us to get back together and I wasn’t going to ask him for anything, but I had this silly idea that if I told him, he’d be so happy that he’d want to be a part of it and then I wouldn’t have to think about giving him or her away to strangers.

I’d known I was pregnant for less than twenty-four hours and that thought already made my heart ache. That maternal instinct thing is strong.

I went out to the living room and picked up my phone. I quickly rang Jason before I changed my mind. He answered on the first ring.

That was a good sign, he wasn’t screening me out.

“Hi, Vicki! I was just thinking about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to call and see how you’re doing with all of this. Work has just kind of been a nightmare.

You know how that goes.” More so than he’ll ever know.

“Yeah, how are you otherwise?”

“I’m doing okay otherwise. What about you?”

“I’m hanging in there…”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“I was at first,” I said. “Mostly I was hurt. I would like to believe that I deserved a little more than a text message break-up, you know?”

“It wasn’t a breakup.

I just thought we both needed some time.”

“Time for what exactly, Jason?”

“Time to decide if us being together for the long run is what we both want.

I know too many people who get married and a year or two later they’re divorced.

I don’t want to go through that, Vicki, and I don’t want you to have to go through that either.”

“So what have you decided?” I asked him.

I was stalling. Maybe telling him wasn’t such a good idea after all. He’s such a selfish jerk sometimes; I did have to wonder what kind of father he would make.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“I love you, Vick. I always will. I hope you know that.” He said that so sweetly that despite myself it made me feel warm inside.

I started to say it back… out of habit if for no other reason, but I didn’t.

Instead, I said, “But not enough that you wanted to be with me?”

“It’s not always just about love babe. I don’t know how to explain it. You do everything right. You’re perfect. I just wasn’t happy.”

That was a fair, honest answer. It might hurt, but he can’t help how he feels.

“Thank you for explaining it to me, Jason. It helps a little bit. I called you for something else and got sidetracked into that.

“So what’s up?” he asked.

“Um, this is weird and hard… I’m pregnant, Jason.”

There was a long, awkward silence. I could hear him breathing, but nothing else.

Finally, just as I was about to forget the whole thing and hang up he said,

“Oh wow, yeah, that is weird… I um… I thought you were on the pill…”

“I was. I am. Nothing is a hundred percent though and I’ve been sick in the mornings so I took a test.”

“A test… like from the pharmacy, over the counter, that kind?”

“Yeah, I bought it this morning…”

“Those tests aren’t always accurate I hear.

A buddy of mine had a girlfriend who took three one time and they all came back positive.

She went to the doctor and she wasn’t pregnant.”

“Oh, yeah? I was planning on making an appointment; I just haven’t had time yet.”

“Okay, so let me know how that goes.

Take care, Vicki.” I was left staring at the phone. Was he serious? “Let me know how it goes.”

I put the phone down and lay back down on my bed staring at the ceiling.

Maybe it was what I deserved. After all, I wasn’t even sure the baby was his. Ass or not, Jason was right. Before I made any big decisions, I should go to the doctor. I will call first thing in the morning to make an appointment.

The next morning I awoke to the thought that this was a new day and I was going to face it as such. When I had my break I would call and schedule an appointment with my gynecologist.

Until then, I was going to try and keep a positive outlook. Maybe I wasn’t pregnant, and maybe if I was, things wouldn’t turn out quite as bad as I pictured them.

I’m more capable than I give myself credit for, considering all I’d already gone through in my life. If it comes down to it and I had to deal with this all on my own, I can do that.

I was sick again, but with the idea in mind that it was probably morning sickness, I pushed on and finished getting ready for work.

I passed on my morning coffee, knowing I’d probably have a headache later, but I wanted nausea to be long gone before I got to work.

I took a package of saltines and munched on them on my way. When I got to the gates of the mansion, my whole world blew apart.

Normally there was one guard at the gate that greeted people and buzzed the main house if need be. Today there were three very large gentlemen.

None of them were the friendly Gus who gave me a donut three times a week or Haskell who liked to tell me jokes and the latest baseball scores. I didn’t recognize these guys, and none of them looked like they had a sense of humor.

I pulled up and stopped and the biggest of the three motioned at me to roll down my window. I did, and as he approached me, I felt a wave of nausea just from the intensity of his glare.

“I. D.,” he said, abruptly. I took out my I. D. and handed it to him. He looked hard at it and motioned the other two guys over.

They both glared at me and it. What was going on? Finally, he handed it back to me and said, “Miss Hart you are no longer employed by Mr. Reigns.

You aren’t to report here again or go near any of Mr. Reigns’ properties. If you have any personal property inside the mansion, it will be sent to your last known address.

Do not contact Mr. Reigns by phone or electronically, nor by mail of any kind. If you have anything you would like to say to him, you can say it through his attorneys who will be contacting you.”

“I don’t understand. What do you mean that I’m no longer employed? I’m fired? He fired me and hired some ape to tell me that?” I was livid and I wasn’t thinking that here I was addressing said ape in this fashion.

I wanted to jump out of the car and run up to that stupid giant house and pound on the door. I wanted to demand that at least one man in my life should have the balls to tell me something to my face for a change!

I was so sick of men turning their backs on me. First my father, then Jason, and now Alex. Did I have a stamp on my forehead that said,

“Please don’t waste your time treating me decently, I’m not worth it!?”

“Yes Miss, you’re fired. Your final paycheck will be mailed to your last known address.”

“Stop saying that! Why are you saying ‘Your last known address?’ It is my address. I’m not a terrorist for crying out loud.”

“You need to go now Miss or you’ll be escorted back to the main road.”

“Escorted? You would be very sorry if you put your hands on me in any way!”

“I won’t,” he said, still stone-faced. “But the police are standing by.”

The police? What did they think I did? Was something missing?

Do they think I stole something? Oh God, I’m going to be sick! I put the car into reverse and nearly drove right over big and ugly’s foot before he jumped back out of the way.

I went backward to the main road and then when I got there, I had to put it in the park, get out and vomit on the side of the road.

As I was standing there, heaving my guts out, I caught sight of them watching me. Dear God, what was going on?