suspicions deep, down inside but she hadn’t wanted to believe them. But now she had no choice. According to her doctor, she was four weeks pregnant with Gabriel Lafleur’s child.
It was just so difficult for her to believe.
A real life shocker.
She was absolutely terrified.
How could she, of all people, be carrying a child, when, in fact, she was the last woman on earth meant for motherhood?
Maybe her doctor had made a mistake.
No—actually, she thought a moment later, the mistake was all her doing. No one had forced her into sleeping with Gabriel Lafleur. Therefore, it was up to her to deal with the crisis that had resulted. And, needless to say, she would do it alone. Without help from anyone. Not even her father.
Especially, not her judgmental father.
Still, Joelle knew her own limitations and was terrified at the prospect of being a single mother. How would she manage to juggle her time between her career and a baby? The fact was, right now, she didn’t even have a job. But even if that wasn’t a part of the problem, her lack of knowledge about kids and motherhood was. She didn’t know an iota about what it took to be a good parent. Her mother had died soon after giving birth to her, and her strict, disciplinarian father had raised her without ever remarrying. Therefore, she’d never had a female role model in her life. Not only that, but her continuous efforts to achieve leadership in a competitive business world had long ago forced her to program out that part of her feminine nature. She had never allowed herself to feel as though she needed a husband and children to be fulfilled as a woman. All she’d ever felt she needed was to have her father’s undying respect and had known instinctively that the only way to gain it was by being totally committed to her career.
But now all that was changing.
Now she was going to have a baby.
Dear God, what in the world was she going to do with a baby?
That night, Joelle went to bed and worried herself to sleep. She dreamed of Gabriel and Acapulco and woke up feeling worse than ever.
For the next several days, Joelle thought of little else. But in the end she knew that there was only one option for her and that was to have her baby, and that’s all there was to it. Later on, in the coming months, she would deal with what was the best solution for raising her child while still maintaining a fulltime career. But for now, her mental plate was overflowing. Though her decision to have her baby had settled her emotions down somewhat, they still weren’t anywhere near normal. The truth was, she still had several immediate problems facing her. San Diego was her hometown. She knew lots of people here. Her father was the social climber of the century and worried continuously about his spotless reputation, as if he were an old mother hen. Her pregnancy was going to be an embarrassment for him—and for her, too, no doubt about it. Somehow, she was going to have to find a way to keep her delicate condition a secret from him and everyone else in San Diego, although, deep down inside, she knew that it was going to be virtually impossible. Worse, not only was her father going to be shocked and embarrassed by her pregnancy, but undoubtedly he was going to ridicule her judgment in wanting to keep her baby and she simply couldn’t deal with that kind of criticism from him right now.
Which was exactly why, she supposed, that she had automatically tossed aside any thought of telephoning Gabriel Lafleur to tell him about the baby. Like her father, she didn’t want him to think that she was needy—clinging—and expecting him to assume responsibility for her problem. After all, she still had her goal of proving to her father—and to the entire world—that she was quite capable of taking care of herself.
Besides, what good would it have done her to call Gabriel? She knew for a fact that he didn’t want a wife any more than she wanted a husband. At least, he’d said as much in Mexico, several times, in fact. And according to her attorney, Smith Jamison, thus far, he hadn’t been able to find any documented proof that she and Gabriel had gotten married on her last night in Acapulco. She had absolutely no reason in the world to think that Gabriel Lafleur wanted to hear from her, again, under any circumstances. Therefore, it was ridiculous of her to want to call him simply to appease some deep down need in her to hear his voice, again. Absolutely ridiculous.
Still and all, several nights later, in a moment of extreme weakness, when a sudden loneliness swooped down on her and the thought of carrying her child for nine long months without having anyone on her side became unbearable, Joelle found herself dialing his telephone number. Of course, she had no intention of telling him about the baby. She simply wanted to hear his voice, make small talk for a while and then hang up. That would be enough to fill the sudden emptiness in her. She was sure of it.
His telephone rang once…twice…three times.
By now, Joelle was having second thoughts about what she was doing. Maybe it would only make things worse.
Suddenly someone lifted the receiver, and Joelle stopped breathing.
“Hello,” a woman said, her distinct Cajun accent being very similar to what Joelle remembered of Gabriel’s. Only hers was more pronounced, and she sounded much older than Gabriel. Old enough, in fact, for Joelle to wonder if it was his mother. It was the only thing that kept her stomach from bottoming out at the sound of a female voice answering his telephone. After all, she was only assuming that he’d been telling her the truth in Acapulco when he’d said he was single and unattached.
Suddenly Joelle realized that there was always the possibility that the information that Gabriel Lafleur had told her about himself in Mexico was, in fact, a lie. Maybe he was married. Maybe he even had kids. The thought nearly paralyzed her and her mouth went dry.
“Who is this?” the woman asked, indignantly. “Is this some kind of a prank call? ’Cause if it is…”
Joelle swallowed. “No—this is not a prank call,” she finally said after finding her voice. “I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.”
“Then, who’s this?”
“I—I’m Joelle Ames.”
“Are you selling somethin’? ‘Cause if you are, I ain’t buyin’.”
“Uh—no. I’m not with a telemarketing service.”
“Hmm…Is that so? Then, who do you want to speak to?”
“W-well, actually…” Joelle said, stammering her words. The woman was certainly intimidating her. “I think I may have dialed the wrong number.”
“What number did you want?” the woman asked, briskly.
“Uh…” Shaken Joelle glanced down at the telephone number Gabriel had given her. With trembling fingers, she lifted the piece of paper and read off the ten-digit number, area code included.
“Well, you got the right number,” the older woman said. “So, if it ain’t me you want, then I guess it’s Gabe.”
Gabe? Short for Gabriel. Well, at least he’d given her his correct name and telephone number. Her stomach settled down—somewhat. Hopefully everything else he’d said about himself was true, too. Otherwise, she was going to hate herself even more for what she’d done with him.
Joelle cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I did call to speak to Gabriel,” Joelle replied.
“Well,
