The Secret The Italian Claims. Jennie Lucas
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“Why?”
“I told you. I was just a notch on the bedpost. He was cruel—”
“Cruel?” Lola’s eyes became fiercely protective. “You never said that. What did he do? Hit you? Threaten you?”
“Of course not,” Hallie replied, taken aback.
“Then what?”
A lump rose in Hallie’s throat. “He ignored me.”
The blonde’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “He’s a jerk. But you’re sure he’s the father?”
“Yes, but I wish he wasn’t!”
Lola’s eyes were merciless. “Then make him pay. Child support, if nothing else.”
Hallie thought of how desperately she needed money. The lump in her throat became a razor blade. “I can’t.”
“You don’t have any choice. You have no family to help you. Are you seriously going to check into a homeless shelter while your ex lives at a luxury hotel, swilling champagne?”
Hallie sucked in her breath at her friend’s frank words.
“And, you never know, he might be happy about the baby when you tell him,” argued Tess, who was very tenderhearted. “There might be some perfectly good explanation why he kicked you out that night, then had you fired, then never returned your messages...”
Her voice trailed off. Even Tess couldn’t quite overcome how ludicrous it sounded.
If only. Hallie gave her a wistful smile, then the smile slid away.
Tell Cristiano she’d had his baby?
Go back to the luxury hotel where she’d once worked as a housekeeper, to beg for the help of a selfish, ruthless tycoon, and this time give him the opportunity to reject both her and the baby in person? No way.
But looking down at her peacefully slumbering baby, his sweet little mouth pursing in his sleep, she knew Lola was right. Hallie had tried her best to survive on pride. But, after this latest disaster with her landlord today, she had nowhere else to go.
“All right,” Hallie said in a small voice.
“You’ll do it?” Lola’s voice was tinged with relief. For all of the blonde’s hard edges, Lola’s protectiveness of her friends made Hallie suspect that on the inside she was every bit as kind as Tess but, for some reason, tried desperately to hide it.
“You’re right,” Hallie said glumly. “I have no choice.”
The three of them, plus the two babies and Jack’s folding stroller, all piled into a ride-share taxi. But by the time it dropped them off in front of the towering luxury hotel in Midtown, Hallie was already regretting her choice. Just half a night in Cristiano’s arms had nearly destroyed her. How could she face him again?
Tess, with her own baby in a comfy sling against her chest, tilted her head back to look at the skyscraper that was the Campania Hotel. “He manages all this?”
“He owns it.”
Both women turned to her sharply in the warm July night.
Lola wasn’t easily impressed, but her eyes were wide as saucers. “Your ex is Cristiano Moretti?”
Hallie felt a little sick as she nodded.
“I thought it was the hotel manager,” Tess said in awe.
“It doesn’t matter who he is,” Lola said fiercely. “Demand what is yours by right. For Jack.”
Pushing the stroller, Hallie walked slowly past the neon sign of the Blue Hour glowing in the darkness. The hotel’s jazz club had live music, and she’d once dreamed of performing there. Now, as she walked past the club, her failed singing career was the last thing on her mind.
What if Cristiano refused to see her? Or—worse—what if, when he found out about the baby, he demanded parental rights over Jack?
If only she could talk him into just blindly giving her that same big check she’d ripped up the year before!
She stopped, glancing back nervously when she saw her friends following her. “You’re coming with me?”
“So you don’t back out,” Lola said.
“So you don’t feel alone,” Tess said.
With a deep breath, Hallie squared her shoulders and went through the enormous revolving door into the lobby.
The Campania’s lobby was thirty feet high, gleaming with white marble floors and midcentury-modern furniture scattered around multiple fireplaces. One side held the long oak check-in desk, and at the very center of the lobby there was an elegant bar.
After going inside, Hallie stopped as well-dressed, wealthy guests passed them by on the busy summer evening.
“What’s the problem?” Lola said.
“Can’t you just go to his room?” Tess said.
“No,” Hallie said. “There’s security. You need a fingerprint on the elevator.”
“Call him, then.”
“I don’t have his direct number. We never really talked before...” She hesitated.
Lola scowled. “You were just the hired help, huh?”
Hallie looked down, her cheeks hot. Even when she’d worked for him, there were about fifty levels of supervisors between a maid and the billionaire owner of an international hotel conglomerate. She said weakly, “I can try to leave a message with his secretary, or—”
Her voice cut off with a gasp.
Cristiano had just come out of the elevator on the second floor, open above the lobby.
The reaction was immediate, as if he were a movie star on the red carpet. Heads turned, people whispered and gasped. His entourage followed in his wake as he made his way down the stairs to the ground floor—a gorgeous, pouting model at his side, with two assistants and a bodyguard trailing behind.
But, for Hallie, everything else became a blur. Even her friends were forgotten.
All she could see was...him.
Cristiano Moretti was broad shouldered, dark and powerful, outwardly civilized in a perfectly cut tuxedo, but with a five-o’clock shadow on his hard jaw and glittering black eyes that hinted at a ruthless, brutal soul. Looking at him, Hallie shivered, caught between longing and fear, overwhelmed by memory of the night he’d seduced her. The night her whole world had changed.
As a trusted maid at the Campania Hotel New York, she’d occasionally been assigned the enviable task of cleaning and tidying the Italian tycoon’s exclusive