Authors: Tasha Blue
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places or events are entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 TASHA BLUE
All Rights Reserved To TASHA BLUE
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THE PLAYBOY'S BABY
When Janie slept with Playboy Billionaire Raymond she knew that it would be a one night stand. Men like him never settle down but she was aware of what she was signing up for when she jumped into bed with him.
What she didn't sign up for was becoming pregnant.
That was definitely not in the script.
Is it possible that Raymond might retire his playboy ways and become a father to the child? Or is Janie set to do this all on her own?
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HIS ASSISTANT'S BABY
Being personal assistant to powerful lawyer Rafe was a brilliant job for Cheryl. However, one faithful night things became very complicated.
An office affair developed and it soon became much more as Cheryl found herself pregnant. Rafe must now face up to the fact that he is the father of his assistant's baby and that includes everything that is about to come with it...
Table Of Contents
#1 MAIN BOOK –
THE PLAYBOY'S BABY
– HIS ASSISTANT'S BABY
THE PLAYBOY'S BABY
Janie was staring at a stick covered in three-minute-old pee when she heard the restroom door swing open.
“Janie, are you in here?” her co-worker Margarita chirped.
Janie wiped her palms against her cheeks, catching the errant tears before they fell onto the blue plus sign that shook in her hands.
Margarita banged on the stall door. Janie flushed the toilet in response.
When Janie stepped out of the stall, her eyes puffy but dry. Margarita was leaning against the bathroom sink, scrolling through her phone. “Did you hear about the latest rag mag gossip? Raymond Whitehorn is in the news again.”
“Who?” Janie asked. A small tremor rippled in her voice. She didn’t think it was coincidence that Margarita would bring up Raymond so soon after her discovery in the bathroom stall.
Margarita squinted at her best friend. A spattering of acne covered Janie’s normally smooth, dark skin. Her hair was dry and brittle. It looked more like a wild fro than the cute, textured curls she normally sported. “Raymond Whitehorn. He’s been all over the news since November when the president announced Raymond’s engagement to his daughter.”
“Oh yeah, the mayor’s son.” Janie feigned indifference as she pumped soap into her palm. She wrenched the spigot too far and scalding water splashed her hands. “Shit,” she yelped as she pulled her hands back.
“Didn’t you meet him at the shindig the mayor had for the presidential election in November? Remember, we were complaining because we’d worked 36 hours straight on that catering, trying to get the food just right for Mr. High and Mighty Mayor.
“I don’t remember,” Janie muttered. She splashed cold water on her face to drown out Margarita’s voice, but she couldn’t stop the memories. Or the memory of the plastic pregnancy test stuffed in her apron.
“Sure you do,” Margarita continued. “I’m sure he came into the kitchen because he wanted to compliment the cook. I remember he about spoiled his pants when he saw you. Apparently, he wasn’t expecting an African goddess to be St. Regis’ head chef.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Janie murmured into her soapy hands. But her voice lacked conviction because it was exactly like that.
“He was super handsome, for a white dude,” Margarita offered with a knowing smile. “Hurry up,” she added, slapping Janie on the back. “I need your help moving the ice sculpture out of the deep freeze. That Santa face freaks me out.”
As Janie walked back into the kitchen with Margarita, she tried to focus on tonight’s Christmas party. She and her staff still had so many last minute preparations to make before the hotel’s ballroom was taken over for the evening. But her thoughts kept returning to Raymond. Janie remembered more of Raymond than she cared to admit, even to her best friend. Try as she might, it wasn’t easy to forget the son of the most influential person in New York City.
Raymond was handsome and charming, polite to the hotel’s staff and grateful to those who prepared the exquisite meals that graced his tables throughout the long election evening. Margarita was right. He even went as far as to ask to compliment the chef personally, and left the glitz and glamour of New York City’s finest to grovel in front of the person who created the most delectable meal he’d ever tasted.
He’d laughed in his server’s face when he was delivered to Janie, then apologized profusely when he realized she actually was his chef. Janie could understand his confusion; most people did not think of a twenty-six-year-old African American female as professional chefs, especially at the level and talent that Janie had risen to. She waited for Raymond to say the words she was accustomed to: that she was too young, that he thought the chef was a man, or white, at the very least. She already had her hand ready to whisk away his apology. She had a mousse to finish before dessert and a server too busy flirting with the built bodyguards to deliver the next course. She didn’t have time to deal with a white aristocrat caught up in his own stereotypes, even if he was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.
“I’m sorry, I just didn’t expect someone so beautiful,” Raymond said instead, taking her hand and kissing her just below the wrist.
She should have stopped him. She meant to stop him. He was a known playboy, in and out of the newspapers every other week. His father was a billionaire and the most powerful man in the city. He had everything Janie did not: money, family connections, a summer house at Martha’s Vineyard. This was just a game to him and she was just another conquest for the tabloids.
If she’d had any self-respect she would have wrenched her hand away and wiped it clean on her apron. But his lips were so smooth and gentle that she forgot about everything else around her. The sounds of the kitchen halted. Spoons stopped clattering. Bowls whisked themselves in utter silence. Margarita stopped muttering under her breath about the slutty waitress. It was as if Janie held a giant remote control and Raymond’s kiss had muted the room. The world was completely silent and in that silence, Janie allowed her mind to wander. What would happen if he placed a kiss on another part of her body? She thought the world might come to a complete stop. Janie smiled. She liked the idea that one kiss could stop the Earth from spinning on its axis.
When Raymond lifted his head in apology, she lost herself in his tentative smile. “I’m really very sorry,” Raymond reiterated as Janie escorted him outside of the kitchen.
He grabbed her arm as she turned to head back inside the swing doors, his fingers resting on her wrist just below the spot where his lips marked her moments before. Janie swooned. She opened and closed her mouth in anticipation, thinking about the delicious feel of his lips on her arm. Already, she was imagining his lips on other parts of her body: the curve of her neck, behind her earlobe, lost deep in the tangle of her hungry tongue.
She was so lost in her imaginations that she almost didn’t hear him when he asked, “Can I make it up to you? I heard the view on the roof of this hotel is to die for.”
Janie laughed. The absurdity of Raymond’s request brought her back into the moment. “I have too much work to get back to. Maybe another time.” She’d said it to blow off the playboy of the month, to stop her fantasies before they got out of hand, but Raymond nodded his head as if a raincheck between the mayor’s son and a local chef was the most natural idea in the world.
“Another time then,” he agreed. He stood at the edge of the hall as Janie walked back into the kitchen.
She wondered if he meant it, if she would ever see him again. Then she shook her head and chided herself for being so foolish. Of course she wouldn’t see him again. He was a big time city celebrity and she was a lowly chef, always unnoticed behind the scenes. Still, she couldn’t help believe that he meant it when he said they would see each other again. She carried his gaze with her long after he shifted into the ballroom to mingle with the crowd of New York City’s wealthiest patrons.
Janie was thankful that her morning was packed with a healthy to do list for the evening’s Christmas party. Janie didn’t know what she was going to do about the news she’d received in the morning, and right now, she didn’t want to have to think about it. She had so many questions and conflicting emotions running through her mind. She didn’t know how long she would be able to work, or what she would do financially once she was no longer able to work. She wasn’t sure how her friends would react to the news that she was going to be a clichéd single mom. She knew how her ultraconservative parents would react and didn’t even want to think about that blowout. She just wanted to focus on her work and pretend that nothing had changed, except he had changed everything.
Janie shook her head to clear her thoughts. She decided to focus on the chatter around her, hoping it would drown out the negative thoughts in her own head. Next to her, Margarita was elbow deep in a sink full of shrimp that needed cleaning and prepping before they were shoved into one hundred crystal glasses for tonight’s appetizer.
“I hate shrimp,” Margarita said to Danielle, the hotel’s sous chef. “Why do I always have to devein these little devils?”
Danielle rolled her eyes behind Margarita’s back and smiled at Janie. “Someone has to.”
“All for the fancy party, full of stuck up snobby rich kids like Raymond Whitehorn, who is so full of himself that he can’t even keep it in his pants—”
Janie’s knife stopped in mid slice. “What?” she asked. The knife shook in her hand.
“I told you this morning,” Margarita said. She wiggled a piece of shrimp in Janie’s direction. “Mr. Rich and Powerful and his fiancée broke up.”
“What happened?” Danielle asked. She slid the sliced mushrooms off Janie’s station into a large pan of melted butter.
“Who knows? The normal gossip. He’s secretly gay. She found out his family is actually broke. He keeps his baby mama in the city and she’s pregnant with their love child.”
Janie shuddered. She set down her trembling knife and discreetly reached her hand toward her apron pocket. Her eyes pinged between Margarita and Danielle to try and gauge their knowledge, but neither seemed remotely interested in Janie. They were just repeating standard celebrity gossip. Janie sighed when she felt the thin lump of plastic through the contours of the apron’s cotton, comforted that her secret was still safe.
"Why would he cheat on the president’s daughter?” Danielle asked. “That’s like, the stupidest thing.”
Margarita shook her head as she plunged her arms back into the shrimp pit. “Right? You know how much he’s going to have to pay if he gets some random woman pregnant?”
Danielle whistled. “I would try to get pregnant with him on purpose, just for the money he would throw at me to keep my mouth shut. Wouldn’t you, Janie?”
Janie gulped. She forced her head up and down in an agreeable nod because she didn’t trust her voice.
“Any woman with half a brain would,” Margarita agreed. “He’s going to end up like John Edwards and Arnold Schwarzenegger, living with the baby right under his family’s nose and paying for it out the butt.”
Danielle clucked her tongue as she walked past Janie. “I don’t understand rich people. They have the fanciest cars, the most beautiful women, and yet they always want more.”
“Marrying into the president’s family would set anyone for life. His daughter could be a total witch and I’d still marry her,” Margarita announced.
“Well, now she’s available,” Danielle teased. “You can ask her for a dance tonight when she shows up for the Christmas fiesta, although I don’t think she’ll be in a partying mood.”
“She’ll be here tonight?” Janie’s voiced squeaked.
Danielle nodded. “They’re both on the guest list. But I don’t think they’ll both be here so soon, do you?”
“I can’t imagine he’d show his face here tonight,” Margarita agreed. “He’s probably skiing in Vail, celebrating the Christmas season cuddled up to some hussy he met on the bunny trails.”
“While she’s forced to spend her vacation here, putting on a brave face in front of her family’s supporters,” Danielle said.
“And the paparazzi. I’m going to primp and be extra prissy tonight, just in case. Although all of the attention will be on the president’s daughter,” Margarita added.
“Poor thing,” Danielle crooned.
“My ass.” Margarita laughed. “I’d be more worried about her cheating ex-fiancé. He has to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder for a hit coming from the secret service.”
The news of Raymond’s breakup shook Janie so hard she couldn’t even hold her knife straight. After the shrimp were cleaned and deveined, she snuck out to the back of the kitchen, where the smokers hung out on each hurried break. She used the cement block to prop open the back door and stepped into the frigid morning air. Snow crunched on the ground beneath her feet but the sun shone through the dirty clouds and warmed the air. She was alone, everyone else too busy with tonight’s party preparations to even consider an unscheduled break.
But Janie needed a minute. She sighed. She needed more than a minute, but that was a luxury she didn’t have. She wondered how it was possible that someone already knew about her pregnancy. Preposterous, she thought. She’d only found out herself that morning. There was no way it could be in a tabloid magazine already. And yet, the pair had split up. It was eerie that Margarita would even mention a pregnant girlfriend, because that’s exactly what Janie was. Well, minus the girlfriend part. She was more like a pregnant one night stand who was never supposed to see the powerful, connected, engaged man again.
Except he wasn’t engaged anymore either, if the rumors could be believed. Janie pondered on that a moment, trying to decide if his recently found freedom affected her decision in any way. Then an awful thought hit her. What if the news about Raymond’s pregnant baby mama was true? Just because no one knew about her yet didn’t mean that Raymond didn’t have another woman stashed away for a love tryst every time he came into the city.
She didn’t believe she was the only woman he’d had an affair with. She knew with certainty he was capable of sleeping with a woman he’d just met, even on the eve of his engagement announcement, because it had happened to her. She also knew Raymond was capable of abandonment because she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since the election night. It was silly to think she was special, that she was his only one. She was convenient, that was all, another notch in his belt, a conquest.