Page 10

Chapter 9

Penelope – One Month Later

“Come on,” I mutter as the phone rings, I bite my nails in anticipation, but frustration pulls when the phone keeps ringing, and I snap, “Answer the fricking phone, you stupid, mean she-witch!”

It’s four in the afternoon, I’m on maternity leave, bored out of my mind, sitting on my couch, crossed legged, which is not easy, being nearly nine months pregnant and I’m pretty sure I’m stuck while trying to yet again for the millionth time this week to get a hold of Taylors' agent Elena, the jealous she-witch, while his game is on the TV but on mute because, yes, I’ve been watching his games and keeping track with how his team is the top pick to win the Stanley Cup again.

Dad came through after disowning me and sent an official letter to Taylor’s lawyer, but I didn’t hear anything back, not a fricking thing. If my dad did, well, he’s kept to his word and disowned me. I’m having a baby out of wedlock and, even worse, not with the man who drew up a contract for my hand in marriage to bring the law firms together, so I’ve spent the past seven months trying my hardest to get in touch with Taylor only to be blacklisted by Elena every chance I get, including from the bar I met him at, all while being alone, so goddamn alone.

I’ve had the odd call from my sister but within minutes after she calls the line goes dead and I know it’s most likely her husband making me feel even worse each time.

As soon as my dad disowned me, my sister and mother had to follow suit because money usually comes before me, and the Andrews are partners in my dad’s firm. The paperwork was being put forward around the time that I announced I was pregnant where they were hoping I’d agree to the marriage contract they’ve been trying to shove down my throat. I understand he could have lost a lot of money by siding with me but I’m his daughter and that marriage contract was not my idea, it was not something I wanted.

For years I have been told I was to marry who they chose, and for years I rebelled against them. He knows this and yet when I needed my sister the most, he took her away from me, he took my mother from me, God, he took him from me.

My parents are no angels, and we’re not close, but I’m having a baby, for Christ’s sake. I’m scared and I need them!

“This is Elena,” the woman finally answers, I take a deep breath, hoping I don’t become emotional like I normally do, no thanks to these stupid hormones.

Yesterday I cried when the pizza place forgot my extra olives. Then I gave the poor soul on the other end of the phone a ten-minute sobbing rant expressing how much I needed them, then a further five minutes cursing them out for being so careless with my order then apologizing profusely and tipping them one- hundred dollars out of my savings for my crazy ass behavior. One-hundred dollars I couldn’t really afford to give out because maternity leave pay is crap.

It’s frustrating and uncontrollable, it’s hard because, thanks to my father, I have no one to cry or rant to. Now, I’m beginning to feel tension build when I’m trying to stay calm, knowing I need a level head to talk to this woman.

Crap .

“This is Penelope Vine,” I say firmly and feel quite proud of myself, but then she groans, and I can’t help but narrow my eyes.

“Okay, I’m now going to report you to the police because this is just becoming ridiculous and I honestly believe you are ill,” the woman sighs and my nostrils flare with anger.

How dare she? I am not some crazy woman after a payday. Don’t get me wrong, women probably do call and claim to be pregnant, but not only have I sent her proof of my pregnancy, but I’ve been relentless for months, fricking months. Surely, they don’t try this hard.

I can feel my anger begin to boil, and I snap, “It’s ridiculous, and I’m ill because I’m trying to get through to Taylor Evans to let him know I’m two weeks away from my due date with his child and you’ve blocked me at every turn like some jealous girlfriend!”

She laughs, then shocks me and states, “Taylor knows about your pregnancy. He actually tore up the lawyer’s letter you sent to Billy. You didn’t subpoena him for a DNA test, so he had no legal right to get in touch with you; now, why don’t you go on your merry way and stop harassing me and my client.”

My eyes tear up despite knowing she could be lying but my emotions as usual lately try to take over and a small part of me can’t help but believe her words until what she said kicks in and the woman gives me an idea.

“Okay, I’ll get my lawyer to send a subpoena and demand a DNA test and then let’s see if what you are saying is the truth because, as far as I’m concerned, you’re a jealous lying little bitch who needs a reality check. It’s not me you’re keeping away from him because newsflash I barely even know him but it’s his child!” I growl then hang up and throw my phone making it clunk against the wall before a sharp pain hits my lower stomach and I wince before hanging my head.

“Dammit, I don’t have money to hire a lawyer after buying all the baby stuff, and my dad disowned me,” I say, my tears fall, hating that I let my mouth run with me yet again. I can’t seem to control it since I got pregnant.

Why is she making this so hard? All I want to do is let him know that he’s going to be a father. I’m not asking for a cent or even demanding that he have access; all I want is to inform him so he can make his own decisions and decide if he wants to be involved all while I ignore the pull I have to him.

I look at the TV again, just in time to see Taylor hit the puck into the net. The light above it flashes as he lifts his stick in the air and skates around the net. I swallow hard while wiping my cheeks, but determination fills me as he looks at the camera with a serious face.

“He has a right to know!” I mumble before eyeing my phone on the floor, then look down at my crossed legs and wince.

I need my phone. I need to call my dad, something I haven’t done in seven months. I messaged him on Father’s Day and his birthday, receiving a love heart back each time, but that is it. He’s my dad, and I need his help.

Huffing as I look down at my crossed legs again, I scrunch my nose up. How on earth am I going to get up?

Damn.

Narrowing my eyes, I take hold of my right leg when a knock echoes from my door. I look at it and furrow my brows with confusion because, well, no one comes around. I went on maternity leave before I could make any decent friends.

Unless it’s Chinese food .

“I thought I was just thinking about ordering a Chinese,” I mumble as a knock sounds again. I try my hardest to untangle myself, which is not easy with the bump before me.

I grunt, managing to untangle my legs before I carefully stand and find my balance. Once I have it, I walk to the door. I don’t look through the peephole and open it, but my eyes widen at the figure before me, who, rightly so, looks nervous.

“Hey, sweetheart,” my dad rasps, and I swallow hard. My eyes tear up, my mind unable to believe he’s standing at my door. I don’t know if I’m emotional because it’s him, and he showed up without realizing that I needed him, or because he’s not Chinese food.

A twinge hits my lower stomach, but I ignore it because I really want salt and pepper chicken right now and take in the man before me looking casual. He’s not in a suit for once, just a pair of jeans, a black sweater, and a long coat while holding an envelope.

I clear my throat and answer, “Hi, Dad,” while putting my hand on my large stomach out of instinct, his eyes soften.

“I’m sorry for interrupting,” he says rocking back on his heels.

I shrug and admit, “You weren’t.”

He tilts his head, “You sure? You look kind of disappointed that it’s me standing here. " He gives me a sad smile, “I know I deserve it; I just…”

I cut him off and admit, “I was hoping you were Chinese food, but I think I just thought about ordering it, not actually ordering it,” and he grins wide.

“Your mother wanted nothing but salt and pepper chicken when she was pregnant with you,” he admits. I smile, not surprised that I take after my mother, but then it disappears because I haven’t heard a peep from said mother. He sighs, “I’m sorry, Penelope. I’m sorry I disowned you. " He shakes his head and looks down before he looks back at me and admits, “I knocked Zane out after you left.”

My mouth hangs open because surely he didn’t?

He continues, “No one hits my daughter, no one. Harry, his reputation means everything to him, and I never witnessed his behavior with your sister. I only saw the bruises, which is why I threatened him. I knew his parents would kick him out of the firm and cut him off, but Zane, he hit you in front of me and I couldn’t stand back and watch that. My family means everything to me despite what you may think.”

I swallow hard, “But that was seven months ago, Dad.”

He nods, “I know. I had to do damage control; they are our partners, sweetheart, and that law firm is our livelihood. While I am so proud of you, of how you refused to let me pay for anything, working hard for yourself, your mother has adapted to this lifestyle as well as your sister, and I didn’t want to let them down. I also had to think of the investment from the Calvins.”

My nose twitches as my eyes tear up. I know he’s admitting he was wrong, but it doesn’t change the pain he put me in because by not letting them down, he let me down.

“They’re out, sweetheart,” he shocks me, “I needed time to get them out. With Harry’s father's help, we got them out of the firm. They no longer have any investment or say, and I-I,” he looks at me, “Can I come in?”

I chew my bottom lip as more twinges tighten in my lower stomach, momentarily catching my attention and I look down and wait.

I’m due in two weeks, but this could be Braxton hick’s contractions.

“Penelope Vine?” a strange voice says loudly, and I look up as my dad looks behind him. I furrow my brows at the delivery guy but nod, he winces, seeing my stomach before announcing, “You’ve been served,” and passes me an envelope, then leaves like his ass is on fire and my eyes widen in shock.

Dad takes it from me and opens it while I stand still, confused. Who on earth world serve me? Anger fills me as the light bulb clicks, and I mentally curse.

Elena . Dammit.

“This can’t be right,” my dad says, and I look at him and ask, “What do you mean?”

He looks up and passes me what he is holding, I open it, pull out large cards, and look at them.

“Passes?” I question in confusion and look back at my dad.

“I found them this morning on my old secretary’s desk. It seems they were sent out the day your sister requested the charity tickets, Crystal decided to hide them, probably hoping to use them herself. They’re for the Red Lions, with full access for the entire season, including the tunnel. I figured Taylor Evans sent them,” he admits, then frowns, “but I don’t understand why he’d do that then serve you with a restraining order?”

I furrow my brows and look down at the passes before turning behind me, only to see Taylor on the TV talking into a mic.

From his point of view, I guess it doesn’t make sense. I look back at my dad and state, “His agent has blacklisted me everywhere. I’ve been trying to get in touch with Taylor since I last saw you, and she has stood in the way at every turn.”

His nostrils flare, and he opens his mouth to speak but frowns instead when I gasp and bend forward, gripping his arm as pain fills my lower stomach.

“Pen,” Dad questions, panic lacing his voice and I gasp, “I-I think I’m in labor,” as water splashes between my legs, and I’m suddenly glad I wore a maxi dress today.

“Oh, oh crap, okay, right, okay, l-lets uh, let's get you to hospital I-I’ll call your mother,” he stutters and I look at him with a raised brow despite the pain. He shakes his head at me while placing my hands on the door frame and runs into my apartment for a few minutes.

He comes back out with a bag that was in the bassinet, the car seat, and my coat before shutting the door and more pain hits as I cry out, “Oh god, that hurts!”

Dad winces and helps me put on my coat before picking the bag back up. He then wraps his arm around my waist before helping me to the stairs.

“We need to look at an apartment with an elevator for you, sweetheart, or maybe you should move back home so Mom and I can help you with the baby,” Dad mutters, but I don’t take his words to heart.

I’ve been alone for way too long to take them to heart.

“Ah crap,” I cry out again as more pain fills me, my legs weakening, and I grip Dad’s coat.

“Honey, meet me at General and bring Avery; Penelope’s gone into labor,” my dad says as my tears fall.

He called Mom. He really did call Mom .

“It’s going to be okay,” he mutters to me as he guides me down the stairs, seeing my concern and pain.

“He should be here for this,” I sob. Dad kisses my head before helping me out of the building and towards his black car.

“I’ll subpoena him, Pen, I’ll get in touch with him personally, that woman won’t be able to stop me, I promise, he’ll find out about the baby,” Dad promises as more pain takes over, I grip his hand trying not to hold out hope because so far, nothing has gone right for me.

“For now, let’s get this baby here safely,” he continues as he opens the backdoor and guides me inside, then grins, “You’re about to have a baby Pen!”

Baby , I’m about to have a baby , damn…