All Our Tomorrows (The Heirs Book 1)

Piper left Chase and Alex to wade through the individuals that stopped them as they were exiting the boardroom.

Julia walked alongside her.

“That was painful,” Julia said.

“You can’t expect people to be enthusiastic that two strangers to the company now have complete control over it.”

Julia lowered her voice. “Floyd’s been on the phone with almost everyone in that room.”

“Discussing what?”

“Hard to tell, but he isn’t happy.”

In Piper’s opinion, Floyd Gatlin wasn’t a jovial person in the first place. It was only when the late Mr. Stone was around that Floyd became more animated and accommodating. “Is he ever?”

Julia sighed. “I don’t think he and his wife sleep in the same room.”

The thought of Floyd doing anything with a woman had her stomach churning. “Would you if you were married to that?”

Julia physically shook.

It’s not that Floyd wasn’t a halfway-decent-looking man, it was the fact he was an asshole that made him so undesirable. He and Aaron spent a lot of extra time in cities that only required their attention for twenty-four hours.

Eyes open.

Mouth shut.

Do your job.

They were almost back to Julia’s desk when she dropped reason 230 as to why Piper was nowhere close to being ready for kids.

“I have to cancel clubbing tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Piper lifted her voice as if the intonation alone said she was disappointed.

She wasn’t.

Julia rolled her eyes. “Bobbie”—she said her ex-husband’s name with a whine in her voice—“is shirking his fatherly responsibilities . . . yet again.”

Julia had started calling her ex Bobbie after the divorce. Before then, she referred to him as Robert. But with the return of the man’s adolescent behaviors, Bobbie was meant to belittle the man. Julia was the proud parent of two children. Five-year-old Nina and almost-seven-year-old Robert Junior.

Piper met Julia when her position at Stone Enterprises elevated to the executive floor, right in the middle of Julia’s divorce.

Brutal . . . absolutely everything Piper witnessed in her friend’s divorce had been painful, needles-in-your-eyeballs brutal.

The two had married relatively young, had kids before they could afford their own home, and were filing for divorce before their fifth wedding anniversary. Bobbie wanted fifty-fifty custody of his children when he realized how much he’d have to pay in child support.

The man wanted Julia to pay him alimony because she made more money. That fight went on for a while until they negotiated a minimized amount of child support. Then Bobbie moved to Orange County, making the shared-custody part an absolute joke, and ultimately had them back in court and Julia fighting for more money since he now saw his children, at most, four or five days a month.

Happy hour after work consisted of watching Julia drink way too many vodka tonics and replaying all the scenes from divorce court.

Nope.

Nope.

And nope!

“What is his excuse this time?” Piper asked.

“Get this. He rolled his ankle while he was hiking up in Big Bear with his buddies, and the doctor put him on pain meds that he can’t take and drive,” Julia gasped. “And of course, he shouldn’t be watching the kids if he’s high on Vicodin. What am I supposed to do, argue with that?”

“No.”

“Big Bear,” Julia muttered. “Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve done anything remotely close to hiking in Big Bear?”

They both stopped at Julia’s desk. Piper offered a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry.”

“Me too. I was looking forward to getting out.”

“Maybe your mom can—”

“No. She does enough. I can’t afford a sitter. Besides, the kids get pretty moody when Daddy doesn’t come around. I need to be there for them.”

“If it gets too bad, let me know. I’ll bring Kit over. He always cheers them up.”

Julia smiled. “They’d love that.”

Piper saw her new bosses out of the corner of her eye as they walked down the hall together.

She lifted her chin. “Let’s not lose our jobs.”

Julia glanced over her shoulder, grinned. “I’ll call you this weekend.”

By four thirty, a trickling of staff started leaving the floor. By five, the noise level was reduced to only the hum of the fluorescent lights hanging in their enclosed spaces in the ceilings.

Chase walked out of his office at a quarter after five, expecting the office to be empty.

Instead, Piper sat behind her desk, typing quietly away on her computer.

“I’m pretty sure the five o’clock whistle blew,” he said, interrupting her.

She lifted a hand in the air, index finger up, her eyes glued to her screen.

Then she typed for a few more seconds before lifting her hands as if she were saying abracadabra and made a whooshing noise. “And it’s off.”

“What was that?”

She clicked a few buttons before pushing her chair away from her desk. “Board meeting minutes. I need to get them done on the day, or I’ll forget something that was said.”

“You can always record them.”

Piper opened a drawer in her desk and removed her purse. “Too many things are said off the record. If you’re recording it, it’s on the record.”

“Destroy the recording.”

Piper stood, grabbed a sweater that was on a hook on the wall. “Miss Maddox, have you ever destroyed documents from Stone Enterprises?” she said in a high-pitched voice. “No, Your Honor,” she replied in her own voice. “What about the recording of your board meetings?”

She looked Chase in the eye as she swung her sweater over her arm and pushed her desk chair in.

“That makes perfect sense.”

They both started toward the elevators at the same time. “I had a college professor that drilled into us habits that keep you out of a courtroom.”

“I didn’t take that class.”

“Not a lot of people do. A lot of them end up in court.”

“I’ve managed to avoid it so far.”

They rounded the corner to the lobby. Chase pressed for the elevator.

“I’m not sure that track record is going to hold.”

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Your dad dealt with a lot of litigation. Nearly all that was settled by the lawyers.” The elevator doors opened; she kept talking after pressing the lower parking level of the garage. “I never understood the news when they’d talk about some famous person or businessperson not going into a courtroom during their trials. Then I saw your dad do it all the time. Too busy for a courtroom. Send the lawyer.”

“I suppose that’s to be expected with a company this big.”

Inside the elevator, they stood a respectable two feet apart and stared at the closed doors.

Piper sighed. “It’s been a long week.”

“You’ve been back four days,” he corrected her.

She looked him in the eye. “And in four days, I’ve caught up with three weeks.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

He stared at the closed doors once again. “I should probably pay you some overtime for the extra load.”

“No probably about it,” she said.

Chase fought back a smile.

The doors opened on the lowest floor in the parking garage.

Piper stepped out, and he followed.

“You don’t have to walk me to my car. It’s a safe lot.”

“While my mother did teach me to be a chivalrous guy . . .” He pointed toward his loan truck opposite a white Kia. “This is where I’m parked.”

She stood there, dumbfounded. Eyes moving between his truck and him.

Chase stepped away from the elevator and let the doors close behind him.

“What?” he asked.

They both started walking.

Piper said nothing.

“You don’t like the truck?”

She shook her head. “No. It’s nice. But you’re all the way down here.”

“The spots are tight. I’m not going to be the asshole who takes up two spots on the prime floors. Down here, there’s less competition for space.”

Piper stopped walking at the Kia and stared.

Chase took a few more steps, then turned and looked at her. “What?”

“You own the building.”

“Yeah? So?”

“There’s a space with your name on it right by the entrance.”

“Still small. Besides, Alex uses that one.”

Piper simply shook her head. “Then take Floyd’s or Gatlin’s . . . or both.”

Chase was deeply amused at how vehemently she was advocating for him to flex the Stone name and demand a better parking space.

While he knew that he could just have the spaces reassigned and park higher in the lot, he kept purposely saying the wrong things to see how far Piper would go with her fight on his behalf. “Then where would they park?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

Chase held back his grin for as long as he could.

Then Piper rolled her head back and started to laugh. “You have the best poker face,” she told him before rounding her car and grasping the handle.

“No, really. Parking down here isn’t a big deal.”

“Whatever, Stone. You’re the boss.” She yanked her car door open.

He was still smiling. “Wait, Piper.”

“Yeah?”

“Tuesday?”

“What about it?”

“Will Tuesday work to meet at my father’s place to get into his computer?”

She tossed her purse and sweater into her car, looked at the ceiling of the garage. “Tuesday will work. Eight o’clock?”

“Let’s do nine. It’s a little out of the way.” It wasn’t, but an extra hour of sleep was a small token he could give her for doing this.

“Nine is even better,” she said.

“Alex said you’re leaving early on Monday. A doctor appointment?”

She pulled in her bottom lip briefly. “Yup. I can try and reschedule if you need me—”

“No, no. It’s fine. Have a nice weekend, then.”

Piper’s smile wasn’t as wide or as free as it had been only a moment before. “You guys did well this week. Considering everything.”

It was strange to hear her praise, but soothing, nonetheless. “See you Monday,” he offered as she stepped into her car.

In his truck, Chase turned it over to let it warm up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He glanced in his rearview mirror and saw Piper grasping the wheel with her head lowered. When she didn’t move for several breaths, he found himself watching and wondering what was going on in her mind.

Finally, the taillights in the car flashed as she started her car and looked over her shoulder.

Chase expected to see her smiling, still amused with their conversation.

Only that wasn’t her expression.

A little sad, maybe annoyed . . . but not happy.

The second she realized he was still there and saw his eyes, she instantly put a smile on her face as she backed out of her spot.

Piper sat on the exam table, still wearing the slacks and button-up shirt she left the office in, and waited for the doctor. This was, quite literally, the last place on the planet she wanted to be.

Just walking in the door forced Piper’s mind to go where it didn’t want to go.

Being unexpectedly stuck at home for three weeks put her mind on the rat wheel of reality so much that she had been paralyzed. Then Chase Stone walked into her life and gave her the distraction she needed.

Only now, she couldn’t escape her reality any longer.

Piper stopped staring absently at the wall across from the exam table when the door to the room opened and in stepped Dr. Resnik.

The petite, curly-blonde-haired doctor wore a white lab coat and a smile.

“Hello, Piper,” she greeted after closing the door. “I was looking at your chart. It’s a little early for your exam. What’s going on?”

The words stuck in the back of Piper’s throat so much that she had to clear it to spit them out. “I’m late.”

“Your period?”

Piper closed her eyes, nodded once.

“How late?”

“Four . . . five . . .”

“Days?”

“Weeks.”

Dr. Resnik leaned her back against the wall. “Any chance that you could be pregnant?”

The question was almost comical. “Unless I ended up with five pregnancy tests that were all faulty. I know I’m pregnant.” Just saying it out loud spiked Piper’s pulse.

“I prescribed the pill for you.”

“Yeah, well . . . that didn’t work. To be fair, I missed a couple days. I didn’t think much about it. There isn’t anyone in my life. A couple of missed days wasn’t going to . . .”

“Clearly, there is someone in your life.”

Piper squeezed her eyes shut, tried to block out the images of the bad sex that created this mess. “No. Not really. I mean, yes. There was a guy.” She actually laughed at how that sounded. “My name isn’t Mary.” That made her laugh harder. “We even used a condom.” Piper ran both of her hands down her face. “Fuck.”

Dr. Resnik pulled a rolling stool close and sat. She placed a hand on Piper’s knee. “It’s okay, Piper. If your timing is right, then it’s still early. You have options.”

The back of Piper’s throat started to constrict.

Dr. Resnik paused, and when Piper didn’t say anything, she patted her knee. “Let’s get a urine sample, do some blood work, and I’ll do an exam. Let’s get the facts.”

Piper nodded, but still couldn’t look at her.

Twenty minutes later, Dr. Resnik pushed away from the exam table and handed Piper a tissue to wipe the lubricating jelly from between her legs.

Not that Piper needed the doctor to confirm what she already knew, but the look on Dr. Resnik’s face said it first. “You’re definitely pregnant. The cervix is high and soft. Your urine test here confirmed it. The blood test will tell us a more exact date, but my estimate is ten weeks based on your last cycle.”

Piper knew exactly when she had sex and didn’t need a blood test to tell her anything.

She sat up on the table, holding the tissue paper, not wanting to touch herself in front of the doctor. Which was stupid, she thought to herself, considering the doctor put the damn jelly there to start with.

Still, she held the tissue.

“Why don’t you get dressed. Let’s talk in my office.”

Once the doctor was gone, Piper frantically rid her body of the goopy mess before wadding up the paper modesty drape that covered her naked lower half and throwing it in the wastebasket.

She dressed quickly and seriously considered leaving the office without talking more.

Then she reminded herself that she could run if she wanted, but that would change absolutely nothing.

Dr. Resnik sat behind an overloaded desk while Piper took one of the two chairs on the other side.

“I know this is a hard time when it’s unplanned.”

Piper met her eyes. “I’m not in a position to be a mother.”

“I understand.”

Did she? All the women in the lobby were holding their stomachs and smiling, or they weren’t pregnant and talking to the women that were and congratulating them.

She didn’t want anyone congratulating her on a mistake.

“You have three options,” Dr. Resnik started.

Piper blew out a breath. “Twice I’ve driven by a clinic,” she told the doctor. “I grew up in Ohio. My parents still go to church twice a week. My mom sometimes three.”

“If your religious beliefs are such that terminating the pregnancy is—”

“Not my beliefs,” Piper interrupted. “Theirs. I couldn’t wait to get out of Ohio. Haven’t stepped inside a church since I moved. Unless I’m back home. But all that sin crap . . . is in here.” She placed both of her hands on her head. “I know, intellectually, that the best thing for me is to just end this.” She swallowed hard. “But I can’t.”

It hurt her to say what she already knew.

“I wish I could.”

There was real sorrow in Dr. Resnik’s eyes. “Adoption is always available.”

Piper nodded several times.

“And you can always keep the baby.”

That resulted in a quick shake of her head. “No. I can’t.” It would be a challenge keeping her parents out of her life for the next seven months . . . eight if she wanted to look even remotely normal . . . so they didn’t know about any of this. Keeping it. She thought of Julia’s life, how her mother was her rock. There would be none of that from her parents. And even though she had her job back, there was no telling if that security would be yanked out from under her again. She wanted children . . . one day, with the right man. Piper hated that her thoughts kept jumping from possibility to impossibility one moment to the next.

“Okay, Piper. You can always change your mind.”

She nodded.

“What about the father?”

That made Piper laugh. A manic kind of laugh that said crazy and not happy.

“Tall, dark hair. Met him in a bar. He gave me two different names. It was a joke, but I, for the life of me, couldn’t tell you which one was real, if any. The kicker is . . . I don’t do this. The last time I had sex before him was over a year. I gave myself a pass.” She moaned. “They call it a one-night stand for a reason. Pretty sure his parting words to me were, ‘We’re okay, right? If anything happens?’”

“Ouch.”

“Yeah.”

Dr. Resnik scooted back, opened a drawer in her desk, and pulled out several pamphlets. “I’m giving you everything. Options one, two, or three. If you choose two or three, we need to get you on the right vitamins, make all the appointments. Make sure you and the baby are getting what you need. Did you stop taking the birth control pills?”

“You mean the ones that didn’t work? Yes. Right after the first test.”

“Alcohol, recreational drugs?”

How was that even a question? “I don’t take drugs.”

“Marijuana?”

“No. I might have drank the night the double lines showed up, but not since. Cut out caffeine, too.”

“Good.” There was a small smile on the doctor’s face. “Nausea?”

“A little. Couple mornings, I couldn’t eat.”

“You might be one of the lucky ones and avoid morning sickness. You’re almost through your first trimester, when it’s worse.”

Piper had read that.

“I’ll have the nurse give you all of the what to expect stuff on your way out. I want to see you in four weeks, sooner if you decide to terminate your pregnancy.” She handed Piper all the papers in her hand, along with a business card. “I don’t perform terminations in this office. This is who I refer my patients to when that’s what they choose. They get you in quickly, and like the clinics, there will be an advocate there for you, to go over your options. Not for judgment, just so they know that you’re informed.”

“Thank you.” This was all too real.

“Do you have any questions?”

Piper nodded. “But not right now.”

The doctor stood and rounded her desk.

Once Piper moved to her side, she held her arms open.

Piper allowed the other woman to hug her.

“You’re going to be okay. Call anytime.”