One Night Stand with a Prince: Oops! I Had His Baby!

Moving On

"What do you mean move to LA?" I demanded, shocked. Unsure if I had heard the Vice President of operations correctly. I'd lived in New York for four years now, I hadn't expected to move. Ever. I wanted a Vice President position here, in this office. It was part of my ten-year plan.

"Yes Miss Ortega. We have a position that came open unexpectedly in LA and we need you there." Mr. Broxton adjusted his tie again, the third time since this meeting had started and I’d only been here all of five minutes. Eyeing him suspiciously I crossed my legs and leaned closer, determined to get to the bottom of this.

"Does this happen to have anything to do with Mr. Harper? And our recent... termination of our previous arrangement?" Our break-up, but I can't exactly ask the Vice President of Operations if my ex-boyfriend was having me transferred to make his life easier now could I. Though I guess that was exactly what I had just done...

"I assure you I have no idea what you are talking about Miss Ortega." Blustered the now ruddy faced Mr. Broxton, his stubby little digits fingering that hideous red and black checkered tie, again.

That f*****g weasel! Joshua was having me moved across the country because we had decided to break up. Damned asshole! Though I guess ‘we had decided to break up' wasn't exactly the right turn of phrase.

In the week following my misunderstanding with a colleague and a strange, although incredibly handsome stranger, I had ignored everyone and everything. I called into work that morning claiming I was sick and stayed on the couch in the same pajamas watching sad movies that made me cry. Turning them off before the happy ending could play. I didn't deserve a happy ending, so neither did any of the characters in the movies and TV shows I binged. Not the soundest logic, I admit, but in my sorrowful state it had made since to throw popcorn, chips, chocolates, hell, I'd even had to clean salsa off my TV.

By time I felt human again and willing to talk to my boyfriend, friends and family, Joshua had apparently had enough. I called him to explain that I had not been up to company but that we needed to get together and talk. I was going to tell him everything and let him decide what we would do from there. Instead, he'd told me on the phone that if I had such little regard for him as to ignore him for a week then clearly I didn't care for him as much as I said. He also made it very clear that he was not willing to wait around for when I was ready to continue things on my timeline. He'd broken up with me then and there, not even allowing me to explain what had happened.

But it's fine. We'd only been dating for 6 months. He was only absolutely perfect, and our ten-year plans fit together like we'd written them in complete sync. But it's fine. What's that saying I hear all the time? There are other fish in sea? Guess it's time to buy a fishing pole.

But this? He was such a scumbag he not only ended things over the phone, but he was also pulling strings with his father and having me transferred. And not even just to another department! No, he was having me transferred across the country.

I paused, took a deep breath, and weighted the pros and the cons, the way I always did when life threw an unexpected curve ball my way.

Moving meant, no awkward moments with Joshua in the hallways, it would mean I'd no longer have to watch him flirt with every woman in our department. And I mean every, single, one of them. From my twenty-one-year-old secretary to seventy-five-year-old Mrs. Smith, who was one of the copy ladies who only worked here because her granddaughter worked here as well, and she'd feared her precious granddaughter working among so many men with her being unwed. But we're getting off topic, Mrs. Smith and her granddaughter’s weird arrangement has nothing to do with my current predicament.

Moving meant that I would have to pack up my entire life, leave my friends and family... oh who was I kidding? I had no family here. My dad lived in Alabama with his fourth wife and my mom lived in Arizona, lord only knows doing what. I had no family here. And friends? What friends? Joshua? No, no friends. Just colleagues. My life here was sad when you looked at it from an outside view. I didn't even have a cat for goodness sakes.

Maybe a move would do me good. A new area, new job, new colleagues, new start. And I wouldn't have to walk past that hotel every day on my way home... the one where everything started to fall apart two weeks ago.

"Alright Mr. Broxton! What's the position you'd like me to take?" I was going to do this. It would be good for me. Some sun, some sand, some salt water. Nature’s therapy.

"Vice President of Public Relations at our LA branch." I did not expect those words to leave his thin lips, and I knew my mouth dropped open in shock. This was actually a promotion. I was going to have that little VP in front of my name, and at only twenty-five I was the youngest female VP in the company's history.

"Oh my, thank you so much Mr. Broxton!" It took everything in me not to jump to my feet and dance around squealing like a pre-teen girl who's crush just returned her text. I was being promoted and I was moving to LA. Looks like my bad luck was finally over.

**** Two weeks later ****

Looking around the dingy old office, I stood in the doorway in complete shock. This was a broom closet. A broom closet that someone had cleared out and stuck a tiny desk in with an outdated computer on. I was going to kill that slimy, no good-

"Hi! You must be Miss Ortega! We've heard so much about you!" A perky blonde with teeth so white the reflection from them was blinding me, sauntered up, leaning against the door frame and whistling as her blue eyes looked over the tiny confines of the four walls that now made up my office. "I saw them clearing this out two days ago and thought they were just putting up new shelfing, not stuffing someone in here."

"Yeah, figured it was a broom closet...," I muttered as I walked in and put the box I was carrying on the desk. Though desk was being generous, the box took up almost a third of the surface area, and that’s with one end hanging off the side. I groaned as I sunk into the old rolling chair that came with the desk and glanced back at the door where the perky blonde was still standing. "Well, you know my name, what's yours?"

"Oh yeah, sorry about that." The woman laughed, walking in with her black heels clicking on the tile floor. "Lucy Emmerson." She stated, shoving a well-manicured hand in my face. I looked at it in surprise for a moment before standing and taking her hand in my own and giving it a firm shake.

"Nice to meet you, Miss Emmerson. Or is it Mrs.?" I didn't see a ring on her hand, but I had learned in my line of work to always ask.

"It's Miss, haven't met a man willing to lock me down yet." I liked blondie already... I mean, Lucy.

"I'd invite you to sit down and talk for a bit but I'm assuming I have no chairs because there was no room for them." I tried not to let too much sarcasm flow into my tone, but the side eye Lucy flashed at me with a giggle told me I had failed miserably. "I'd have never taken this job if I had known it was made up." Huffing as I pulled the few things in the box out and began setting them on my desk. My college diploma, a picture of my mom and me, a picture of my father and his new wife, and a framed picture of my last dog from when I lived with my mother in college. Pickles had been his name.

"So, no ring and no pictures of a hottie, I take it you’re single?" Lucy mussed aloud, leaning her hands on the edge of my desk and looking at my meager belongings.

"Single as a pringle." I responded with a sigh, refusing to think about Joshua anymore. I did what I had been doing for the past 4 weeks, brought the handsome strangers face to mind.

"Don't they come all smooshed together in a can though?" Her look of amused confusion had me bursting out laughing and I sank back in my chair again, watching her with new appreciation.

"I can tell already; we're going to be fast friends."

**** One Week Later****

I was hung over the trash can beside my desk, heaving up the little breakfast I had actually had time to eat today, after having slept through three alarms which had me running late for work. I didn't know what was going on with me, but I'd been so tired for the past few days. Barely keeping my eyes open at my desk, and this was the second day in a row I had ended up hugging a trash can after a meal.

Hearing a rap at the door and I yelled for Lucy to come in, she's the only person in the office that has even bothered to speak to me since I got here a week ago. As she walked in and shut the door behind her she shook her head, eyeing me with an odd expression.

"What Lucy? Just spit it out." I grumbled at her, taking a paper towel from my desk and wiping my mouth with it. Once I was done, I pulled out my travel toothbrush and tooth paste and opened the bottle of water on my desk just for this occasion. Brushing my teeth, I raised an eyebrow at Lucy and silently urged her to say what was on her mind.

"No easy way to ask this, so I'll just come out and say it.." Lucy took a deep breath then looked me in the eye as I brushed my teeth over my office trash can and barreled on. "Are you pregnant?"

Her question caught me so off guard I accidently shoved my toothbrush further down my throat then I intended. Which set off a round of dry heaving and coughing, leaving me red faced and blurry eyed as I grabbed for my water and washed my mouth out. Spitting it in the trash can and swallowing some fresh water I finally turned my shocked gaze to Lucy.

"Excuse me?!" I exclaimed, completely confused as to why she would even ask. "No! I have some kind of stomach bug is all."

"Are you sure? You only get nauseous right after a meal, or when you smell something offensive." Lucy started, her lips turning up into a worried smile as her gaze followed my reaction.

"No, I have a stomach bug." I stated, putting the cap back on my water. "Besides, you have to have s*x to get pregnant."

"You're telling me you've never had s*x?" Now it was Lucy's turn to look shocked, her blue eyes going wide.

"Well... I mean, there was one time." I mumbled, thinking about my hot and very obviously off-limits stranger.

"Well, one time is all it takes." Lucy sung, winking at me, a grin on her face. Until she saw how pale I got.

My period was late as well. But that's impossible, I'd only had s*x once, and I barely remembered it! A baby was not in my ten-year plan.

"I need an OB appointment immediately." I whispered as my worried eyes met Lucy's nervous gaze.

**** Three Weeks Later****

"So Miss Ortega, you’re at home test was correct, you are in fact pregnant, and from the looks of your dating scan we just did, you look to be around ten weeks. Congratulations." The Doctor was beaming at me, her painted red lips tipped up revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. Everyone in LA had exceedingly white teeth I was coming to learn. But those white teeth went great with her caramel complexion and honey eyes.

"Miss Ortega." Hearing my name again I blinked away my thoughts and focused on the doctor's eyes once more.

"Oh, yeah, what was that?" I asked her, I had been spacing out a lot lately, Lucy said it was because of the baby... I still adamantly refused to believe there was a baby.

"I said you're definitely pregnant! About ten weeks from the scans." The doctor was now looking at me with worry written across her face. I was staring at her as if she'd just told me I grew an extra head. s**t, I guess in a way, I kind of was growing an extra head. Wait, What?!

"No, no! That's impossible! I had s*x one time, and I don't even know the guy’s name! It was all a mistake and...." I stopped myself from rambling, taking a deep breath and pasting a serene smile on my face. "No. I only had s*x eight weeks ago, not ten, you must have gotten my results mixed up with someone else's." Perfectly reasonable explanation, right? My hands tightened in the paper gown I was still laying in and I felt the paper rip in my nails.

"That would add up, when we count weeks of pregnancy we go back two weeks to the first day of your missed periods, technically you got pregnant eight weeks ago, but you are ten weeks pregnant. It is a little confusing, but you will get used to it as your pregnancy advances." The doctor paused, walking over to me and patting me gently on the shoulder. "Unless you do not want to continue the pregnancy. There are options Miss Ortega, and you are still within legal rights to exercise those options, if that's what you choose." I stared at her for a moment in confusion... options? After a moment what she was saying sunk in.

I could have an abortion. This pregnancy was not planned. I wasn't in my right mind to make sure we wore protection. I wasn't on birth control because I'd never had s*x and at the time hadn't planned on starting. I had done nothing to prevent this from happening, but the doctor was offering me another solution. Another way out of this then just giving up my dreams and becoming a single mother.

"Can I go home and think about it?" I asked softly, trying my hardest not to cry in the middle of her office.

"Of course." The doctor said, patting my shoulder and picking up her chart before heading to the door, where she turned back with a kind smile. "You may not feel like it now, but you can do this... if you want to that is." I just nodded my head, unable to answer for fear that I would start bawling right there.

An hour later I was home, in my shower and crying, letting the water rinse my tears away as they fell.

What was I supposed to do? I didn't know the first thing about babies. I'd never had siblings, or cousins, or even friends who had children. When I'd thought about kids, I always thought about them so far in the future that I never thought about preparing for them. I didn't even know the father’s name. All I knew was his last name was Kingston. Maybe if I hadn't torn up and burned the check, he'd given me I'd have the information I needed right freaking now.

Of course, I wouldn't need to contact him if I was going to... who was I kidding. I couldn't even think the words. I was having a baby. I was having a baby in thirty weeks, and I was totally and tragically unprepared for what I was now signing myself up for.

Putting my hands on my belly, I leaned back against the shower wall and closed my eyes. "I'm all you get little one, but I'm going to be the best mom I can possibly be. Just wait and see... we're going to so totally rock this"

Now if only I could bring myself to truly believe those words.