"Are we celebrating or drowning our sorrows?"

  "Neither. Just drinking."

  I lift my glass to my lips. The bartender serves Asher his usual martini.

  "Thank you." He takes a sip then glances around. "Where's Ryker?"

  "On the phone," I say.

  He frowns. "I thought no phones are allowed during our drinking sessions."

  "That's why he stepped out. It was urgent," I explain.

  "You mean it's about Odermatt."

  I say nothing.

  Asher gives me a puzzled look. "Isn't that done already? I thought Odermatt signed the papers."

  "Yes, but there are still details that need to be ironed out and other paperwork that has to be done before everything becomes official."

  "The work never ends." Asher sighs. "But hey, at least we got the files back."

  Again, I keep silent. I haven't told him the truth about that incident. Or Ryker. They have no clue that Reuben's sudden divestiture has anything to do with it. Best to keep it that way.

  He takes another sip of his drink. "So, what sorrows are we drowning?"

  I swallow another gulp of mine. "The usual."

  "Did Stella dump you?"

  I nearly choke on my Scotch. What the hell?

  Asher scratches his chin. "I'm not sure if that was a yes or a no."

  "It's none of your business," I tell him as I set my glass down.

  In other words, I don't want to talk about it. And if he doesn't want a repeat of what happened last time when I lashed out at him and he walked away, he'd better shut up.

  He doesn't, of course.

  "So it's none of our business if you're sleeping with someone and none of our business if you're not."

  "Correct."

  He taps his fingers on the counter. "So you're not sleeping with Stella anymore?"

  I narrow my eyes at him in warning. And that's the final one he'll get.

  "Who's not sleeping with Stella anymore?" Ryker asks as he returns to the bar.

  He takes his usual seat beside Asher, who flashes his eyes in my direction.

  "Who else?"

  Ryker glances at me. "You're not?"

  I give him the same warning glance.

  He sips his gin tonic. "Anyway, it's none of our business. Let's just leave him alone, Asher."

  I send him a grateful smile. "Thank you, Ryker."

  Not just for this but for not having said a word about Stella since the night he saw her in my room.

  "How did that call go, by the way?" I ask him.

  "Good," he answers. "Violet Cleary's contract just needs some minor changes."

  That gets Asher's attention. "Violet Cleary?"

  "Yes," I tell him. "The same Violet Cleary you were flirting with. She's one of the Odermatt employees we're bringing on board here in Chicago."

  "You're kidding," Asher says.

  "Nope," I answer.

  "Why?"

  "Because that's what happens during acquisitions," Ryker explains. "Some of the top executives of the newly acquired company get moved to the main headquarters of the parent company."

  "I know that. But why her?"

  "Because she's a top executive," I answer. "And because I was very impressed with her back in Zurich."

  Asher looks at me. "Are you giving her my job?"

  "Tempting," I tease him. "But no. She'll be working under you."

  And I have a feeling that's going to make things in the Finance Department more interesting.

  Asher seems to think so, too. He grins.

  I lean forward so I can see my other brother. "Ryker, maybe you should ask Human Resources to put something in Violet's contract about not sleeping with Asher."

  Asher's grin vanishes. "What?"

  The look of horror on his face nearly makes me laugh.

  He glares at me. "Maybe we should ask Human Resources to add something in Stella's contract about not sleeping with her boss."

  That puts my humor out. I grit my teeth.

  Asher...

  "Maybe we should just have it include something about Violet not being allowed to sue us for sexual harassment if she starts sleeping with Asher and things go wrong," Ryker says.

  Asher turns to him. "Are you jinxing me?"

  "But in return, if she does get pregnant, Asher will take full responsibility," Ryker adds.

  Asher finally falls silent as he brings his martini to his lips. Is he saying nothing because he approves of Ryker's suggestion?

  I drink my Scotch.

  Ryker's idea doesn't sound bad, actually. If Ryker makes a mistake, the company doesn't suffer. And neither does Violet. If she gets pregnant, he'll...

  My thoughts stop in their tracks as an idea takes over.

  What if I offer Stella a contract as well?

  Marriage doesn't seem right for either of us, but what if I propose a different arrangement? She wants a child. I need one. What if I ask her to bear my child? I'll make sure she's exceptionally well compensated, of course. I'll even toss in a villa in Switzerland to sweeten the deal. And she can keep her job if she wants to, though I'll reduce her hours and workload, maybe take on another assistant to carry most of her burden so she can focus on raising a child. Needless to say, I'll make sure no one knows she's the mother of my child. That way, her reputation won't suffer and my child will have a more private, normal life.

  Apart from bearing and raising my child, the only other thing she has to do is promise not to see anyone else for a while. I don't want another man hanging around my child until he's at least ten. Twenty if it's a daughter.

  I'll never have to marry. My father's much more concerned about having a grandchild - or two - than about me having a wife. And I'll have at least one heir. As for Stella, she'll have a happy life. She'll be a mother, which is what she's always wanted. She can travel around the world with the money I give her. She can continue working for me if she loves her job that much, or she can be a writer or anything else she wants to be. And she doesn't have to end up getting married to a jerk.

  She wins. I win, especially since the contract means I'll get to have sex with her again. And again. As many times as it takes to get her pregnant.

  "You're grinning," Asher observes out loud. "Is it because you still think Violet isn't going to sleep with me?"

  "Not everything is about you, Asher," I tell him.

  This is about me and Stella. If she agrees to it, that is, though I can't see why she won't.

  I can't wait to talk to her about it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Stella

  Where are we?

  I follow Ethan past a pair of doors and find myself in a luxurious space with crystal chandeliers hanging from a high ceiling and red velvet curtains on the fringes of huge glass windows that look out into the city. The carpet that covers the floor is red as well, but a deeper shade.

  At first, I think it's a restaurant because I spot a man in coattails and white gloves with a silver tray, but then I realize that the chairs are not arranged around tables like in a dining area. Rather, there are small round tables in between large, cozy armchairs, some with lamps perched on them. There are also low tables in front of divans and couches just like in a living room setting.

  Is this some kind of lounge?

  I follow Ethan across the room and up a winding staircase. At the top, another man in coattails leads us to a door. He opens it and I see a large table with a spread of food. There's a smaller one with two chairs right next to the window that has just a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  Just two?

  As soon as the waiter or the butler or whatever he is leaves, I turn to Ethan.

  "You said you were meeting someone important," I tell him.

  That's the only reason I agreed to accompany him on a Saturday evening.

  "I don't see anyone else here."

  "I am meeting someone." He takes off his jacket and hangs it on a peg. "You."

  I frown. Is this some kind of joke? Aren't we supposed to carry on just as boss and assistant? Then why does this look like a date?

  "Don't worry," Ethan tells me. "This place only has a small number of elite clientele, none of whom have a fondness for cheap gossip."

  Which means no one will find out we're here.

  Wait. Isn't that more troubling? What's with all the secrecy? Did he bring me here to seduce me?

  "And no. I promise I'm not going to do anything to you, so please sit."

  He pulls out one of the chairs. I'm not sure if I'm relieved or disappointed by his words, but I sit down. I try to stay calm, but my thoughts are still racing.

  Why did he bring me here? If he just wants to eat with me, why take me to such an exclusive, lavish place? Aren't places like this reserved for special occasions like anniversaries or birthdays or...

  I pause as the third option pops into my head.

  Ethan isn't going to propose, is he?

  That last thought lights a spark of excitement inside my chest, but I quickly put it out.

  Don't get your hopes up, Stella. You'll only get hurt.

  "Just tell me why we're here," I tell Ethan.

  He glances at the table of food. "Don't you want to eat first?"

  "I'm not hungry," I say.

  It's true. Somehow, even though I haven't eaten since lunch, I don't have any appetite at all. Maybe it's because I'm anxious.

  Ethan reaches for the bottle of wine. "What about a drink?"

  I shake my head. "No, thank you."

  After having just one glass of wine at the bar last night, I felt nauseous. I don't want to risk throwing up in a place like this.

  "Please just tell me what we're doing here so I can go home. I'm afraid I'm a bit tired."

  I didn't get a lot of sleep last night, after all.

  Ethan's eyebrows furrow. "Are you feeling well?"

  "Yes. Like I said, I'm just tired."

  "Okay." Ethan nods. "I'll go straight to the point, then."

  Good, because I can't wait a minute longer.

  He opens the briefcase that he brought with him and I wait anxiously for him to bring out a satin box even though my mind is telling me there's no way a man keeps an engagement ring in his briefcase.

  Sure enough, I see a brown envelope instead. He places it on top of the table.

  I look at it with wide eyes, then at him. "Is that a severance package? Am I being fired?"

  "No." Ethan pushes the envelope towards me. "In fact, I guess you could call this a kind of promotion. A very special promotion, just for you."

  A special promotion? To what?

  I open the envelope and pull out the document that's inside. There are two words on the top of the front page in bold, capital letters.

  BABY CONTRACT

  My jaw drops. What?

  ~

  I start reading the eleven pages of the contract on top of my dining table.

  Eleven pages. Wow.

  I was going to read them earlier at that restaurant or club or whatever that was, but Ethan told me not to. Not that I would have been able to digest it with Ethan sitting right across from me staring. He said I should read it very carefully at home and then give him my answer on Monday.

  I guess that's what I'm doing now.

  I read it from start to finish even though some of the legal jargon is hard on the brain, even though at times I have to pause to let out a gasp or a curse. Then I read it again. All eleven pages. When I'm done, I stare at the front page in disbelief.

  A baby contract.

  Yup, that's exactly what it is. Basically, it says that I'll agree to have Ethan's baby, and take care of that baby - that child - in secret. In exchange, I'll get a huge amount of money, a house here and a vacation villa in Switzerland.

  Wow.

  I leave the papers on the table to get a drink of water. I keep the glass in my hand as I pace the room to think.

  I feel like I'm being asked to become a surrogate mother. All Ethan wants is my womb to plant his seed in. The difference is that I get to keep the baby. But I still don't get the man.

  I get a lot of other things, sure, much more than what surrogate mothers usually get. I'll never have to work - something a lot of mothers would love - though I can still keep my job if I want. I'll be able to travel, maybe eventually with my child in tow. I'll have my own place. In short, all my dreams come true.

  Except the one I've realized I really want.

  Why doesn't Ethan just marry me? If he's willing to spend on me and he wants a child so badly, wouldn't it be better to just marry me? Wouldn't it be simpler?

  I know he doesn't love me, but don't wealthy men sometimes marry women they don't love? Isn't he eventually going to marry a woman his father chooses for him? Is that why he doesn't want to marry me? Maybe I wouldn't make a suitable wife because I don't come from a rich family and don't have a well-known surname. So I'm good enough to have his baby but not to be his wife? I don't understand it.

  Whatever the reason, I'm getting a baby contract and not a marriage contract. The question is: Am I willing to settle for it?

  I finish my water but hold on to my glass as I lean against the kitchen counter.

  At least, if I agree to this contract, I'll have Ethan in my life. It will be better than my current situation because we'll have an unbreakable bond through the child we share. And I'll get to spend time with him outside work. In that sense, I am getting a promotion.

  But what if Ethan finds someone else? The contract says I shouldn't have sex with another man, but it doesn't say anything about Ethan not being with another woman. Sure, he'll have sex with me until I give him a child, but what about after? Is he just going to set me aside, keep me in the shadows like a dirty secret while he marries someone else?

  The thought is enough to rip my chest open. It's so painful I just want to dig a hole in the ground and crawl into it.

  I clutch my chest as I look at the papers on the table with tear-filled eyes.

  Ethan said to give him my answer by Monday.

  I think I already have it.

  ~

  When Monday comes, I go to work in a black and gray dress and fiery red heels. After Ethan arrives, I step inside his office as I usually do.

  "Good morning," he greets me from behind his desk.

  "Good morning," I reply, trying not to think about how good he looks in his suit.

  Too bad I'll never get to see him out of it.

  I clear my throat, make my routine report and give him his schedule.

  "And that's all you have for today," I tell him when I'm done.

  "And the thing I asked for?"

  His eyes go to the envelope I have tucked under my arm. Not that he hasn't been looking at it nearly the entire time since I entered his office.

  I place it carefully on his desk. I draw my breath and hold it as I watch him take the document out.

  He goes straight to the last page. Then his eyebrows furrow.

  "You didn't sign."

  "No. I didn't."

  Ethan just stares at the page. I fidget with my sleeve as I wait for him to say something. Finally, he lifts his head and looks at me.

  "Are you sure about this?" he asks. "You can have more time to think about it if you want."

  So he doesn't like my answer. He's giving me time to change my mind. I won't.

  "If there's something you don't approve of or something you want added to it..."

  "I'm sure," I tell him with my shoulders straight.

  He falls silent.

  I draw another breath. "Is there anything else?"

  Ethan taps his fingers on his desk. Then he shakes his head.

  "No. You can go."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Ethan

  Stella can't be serious.

  Long after she's given me her answer, I still find myself glancing at the brown envelope on my desk in disbelief.

  I had the contract crafted carefully. It was rushed, yes, but my lawyer's good. He put in everything I asked him to, and I asked him to put in a lot of things, including a very generous sum of money.

  So why didn't Stella sign it? Didn't she say she wanted to be a mother? Has she changed her mind?

  I want to summon her back into my office, tell her to cancel all my appointments and just have her tell me what's on her mind so she can make me understand why she said no, so I can convince her to say yes. But I wait until my work is done.

  "Is there anything else I can do for you before I go home?" Stella asks me when she pops into my office at the end of the day.

  "Yes."

  I leave my desk and sit on the couch, brown envelope in tow. I place it on the table and gesture to the other couch.

  "Sit."

  Stella sits. She crosses her legs and clasps her hands on her knee. Then she straightens her shoulders as she waits for me to speak.

  I decide to go straight to the point. "Why didn't you sign the contract?"

  Stella glances at the envelope, then holds her chin high.

  "Because I decided it wasn't in my best interest to sign it," she answers simply.

  "And exactly which part made you think that?" I ask.

  "Everything."

  "Everything?"

  Stella draws a deep breath. I can tell she's struggling to form an explanation inside her head. If she's so sure about her answer, why can't she explain it to me?

  I lean forward and look into her eyes.

  "Stella, let's be honest here. I'll go first. I was hoping you'd sign this." I point at the envelope on the table. "I don't understand why you didn't."

  She exhales. "No. You don't understand because you don't understand me at all."

  My eyebrows furrow. Now, I really don't understand her.

  "If you understand me, if you know me, if you've been paying any attention at all to me these past two years, you would know I'd never sign a contract like that," she says.

  "Because you're the kind of person who always tries to do what is right?"

  Stella doesn't answer.

  "So you think it's fine to have sex with your boss but not to have your boss's baby?"

  "No, I don't think it's fine," she tells me. "That's why I ended it."

  "And what if I got you pregnant? After all, you asked me not to use any protection. Are you going to use the baby to get me to marry you?"