Chapter Twenty-nine

Pia checked her BlackBerry once again on her walk in to work. Still no morning message from Valen. She knew he had an early start on another demanding day, but she was still surprised and slightly worried. Last night she’d seen the fragile side of this man she adored, and while the hurt to his pride ran deep, the pain inflicted on his spirit by such an insensitive display of disrespect went even deeper. She hoped she’d managed to cheer him up last night before Mr. Sandman delivered his knockout punch, but Pia had no indication of his mood after he’d tucked her in and left.

She slipped the device back into her purse and continued her stroll. Pia stopped when something blue in a store window caught her eye. A sly smile broke out across her face as she turned around and hurried inside.

While the clerk at the toy store wrapped her purchase, Pia filled out the gift card: Next time you’ll be ready. Hugs, Pia. If this didn’t cheer Valen up and score her big-time brownie points for being clever and sweet, nothing would.

“Morning Dee. Can you please messenger this over to Valen Bellamy’s apartment?” Pia asked, dropping the shopping bag on her desk as she breezed by.

“Sure. And Benita had to move your yoga session to this afternoon. You were free, so I confirmed it.”

“Fine, and when you get a minute I need you to pull the Sony contract and the storyboards for the Blue Diamonds shoot.”

“I see you and little Pom have gotten your second trimester boost of energy.”

“That’s right, and we’ll be cracking the whip around here.” Pia laughed as she settled into her desk chair to begin her workday.

For the rest of the morning, Pia answered her outstanding e-mails, returned at least a dozen phone calls, and settled a dispute between the art director and stylist. Every so often Valen would slide through her thoughts, evoking a happy grin. She was eager to hear from him and get his reaction to her surprise gag.

Pia left for a lunchtime appointment with Dr. Montrae, and after receiving a healthy report at her checkup, returned to the office. Preand post-appointment checks of her BlackBerry left her disappointed, but she was sure that Valen was simply too busy with his crazy schedule to contact her.

“Did that contract go out?” Pia asked Darlene.

“Yep, and the rough cut from the Houston shoot came in.”

“Okay, I’ll look at it later. Any calls?” she asked, working her way around to what she really wanted to know.

“He hasn’t called, chica.”

“He who?”

“He, Tiger Woods. Who do you think? Pleeeeease. You’re about as transparent as Nicole Kidman’s forehead.”

“But you sent the package?” Pia asked, giving up the charade.

“Yes, and I called and it’s been received—at least by the doorman. They didn’t say if it’s in his hands yet. What is it?”

“A Cookie Monster puppet.”

“Okay, that sounds a little freaky…I don’t even want to know.”

“Good, because I’m not telling.”

Pia lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling. It was nearly two A.M. Something was not right. She’d had no word from Valen despite the many messages she’d left on his Treo and office and home phones. In their six weeks together, patterns had been established and personality traits had emerged. Today he had broken all of them, and Pia was worried.

She reached over for the remote and turned on CNN. After ten minutes of watching and hearing nothing about the U.S. senatorial candidate from New York, she decided he hadn’t been shot, hurt, or arrested and shut off the television.

Pia plopped back down on the pillow and closed her eyes, willing sleep to return, but it fast became apparent that the sandman had moved on. She attempted the counting thing, but instead of sheep her last encounter with Valen kept leaping through her mind. From his phone call to his arrival to his finding comfort in her arms on the sofa, she examined every detail of their evening together and could determine nothing that would cause this breach of communication.

Maybe he’s mad because I fell asleep on him, Pia considered. Though she doubted it, as he had carried her into her bedroom and tucked her into bed. Pia remembered waking up the next morning wishing he had stayed.

Tucked me into bed. Oh my God, she thought, abruptly sitting up. Pia reached over and turned on the bedside light. There it was, sitting right where it had sat for the last five months: her pregnancy book. If Valen was at all curious, which she knew he was, he’d probably picked it up and found the sonogram. And even if he hadn’t gotten that far, he at least had cause to wonder.

“Fuck!” she shouted into the early-morning air. No wonder he hadn’t stayed the night or contacted her. Valen was too busy wondering what the hell was going on. Damn it! She should have been honest with him from the very start. Now things were going to be so much more painful and messy.

Pia sat there lambasting herself for every wrong decision she’d made lately, not telling Valen the whole truth about her pregnancy being the worst. After thirty-five minutes of mentally flogging herself, she decided to call him. Yes, it was very early in the morning, but at least she knew he’d be home, and if he was avoiding her, the element of surprise might force him to talk. Or at least, Pia hoped he would.

She picked up the phone and dialed his number, trying to keep back the tears and the terrible thoughts that were swirling around her head, ready to swoop down like vultures on roadkill. Maybe if she was terribly lucky this would all work out, but she wasn’t feeling particularly optimistic. After three rings an obviously tired voice said hello.

“Valen, it’s Pia.”

There was a long pause before Pia heard a click on the line, causing her to burst into tears. He’d hung up on her. He was so hurt and angry that he couldn’t even speak to her. Pia didn’t know what to do. She ruled out calling back; Valen had been pretty clear about not wanting to talk to her. Perhaps an e-mail, Pia thought, going to retrieve her BlackBerry. There was no point in trying to save a relationship that was doomed from the get go, but hopefully she could explain. And apologize. And make him believe that though she’d been less than forthcoming, she had only his best interests at heart. It took forty-five minutes to compose and edit the reasons for her actions and the excuses for her deception. But sitting before her in black and white, the words seemed too cold and unfeeling to send. Pia sat and deleted her thoughts letter by letter until they were back into cyberspace and then collapsed on her bed and cried herself into a fitful sleep.

At 6:45 A.M. the continuous buzz of her intercom woke her. It was Paolo informing her that Mr. Bellamy was downstairs. The news was like a jolt of caffeine, immediately awakening Pia to face her future. Pia told the doorman to send Valen upstairs before jumping out of bed and into the bathroom to fix the damage a tearful, sleepless night had produced. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, as were her nose and lips. Pia pulled on a robe and brushed her hair back off her face. She sighed into the mirror, resigned to her appearance. She felt a mess; she might as well look like it.

Valen’s knock was light and tentative. Pia stood on the other side of the door, willing him to listen with an open mind before turning the knob.

“Hi,” she said.

“I know it’s very early, but I want to put this behind me before my day begins in earnest,” Valen said, forgoing any pleasantries.

“It’s okay. I’ve been up most of the night anyway. Let’s go sit down.”

“No. I won’t be staying long. I’d rather talk to you here.”

Valen’s words hit her with an icy chill. This was definitely not a good sign. She looked into his face and saw a distance in his eyes. Where she used to see affection and desire, she now saw coldness and pain. Pia could feel the crack in her heart widen.

“Why did you hang up on me last night?” she asked timidly.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to be rude, but I wasn’t ready to speak with you. Frankly, I am livid with you and with myself for being such a sucker. I’m only here because I need some answers before we nail the coffin shut on this relationship.

“Why, Pia? Why didn’t you tell me you were pregnant? We know it’s not my baby, so what were you trying to do? What was your motivation? Personal? Political? Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were carrying another man’s child while you were seducing me into loving you on the top of the Empire State Building? I’m assuming that you were pregnant then.”

Valen’s angry barrage of questions hit her like shrapnel. Even his admission of love, tucked within his angry accusations, was shot down, falling dead at her feet.

“Well, were you?”

“Yes.”

“How pregnant are you now?”

“Nearly six months.”

“You said you were celibate, and as much as I wanted…as difficult as it was, I respected that.”

“I am…I was…I am…”

“Make up your mind. Get your lies straight,” Valen replied angrily.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“You’re damn right you should have. Forget the fact that you lied to keep from having to make love to me. Do you know what potential fire you were playing with? How you could have derailed my entire candidacy? This isn’t a game, Pia. I’ve got political enemies scrutinizing every word I say and dissecting every part of my life, trying to dig things up that might contradict what’s on the record. For God’s sake, they threw fucking cookies at me in an attempt to embarrass me in public.

“I can’t be a candidate running on family values and self-respect and have a girlfriend pregnant by another man. The press would have a field day ripping me apart. I thought you understood that.”

Girlfriend?

“I did. I do.”

“Thank God I found out before the press or the Democrats did.”

“I would nev—”

“So now I get it,” Valen continued. For the first time in their relationship he was listening but not hearing what Pia was saying.

“When we first met you wanted nothing to do with me. I pursued you and you pushed me away time after time. Was that before you found out you were pregnant and needed a father for your child?”

In hurt and anger, Valen’s mouth had taken on a life of its own, spewing out words and accusations he neither believed nor meant to say. He reached for the doorknob, but Pia caught his arm by the wrist.

“Just give me five minutes to explain,” Pia begged, breaking into tears. Valen refused to look at her, but he stayed, standing stiffly in the middle of the foyer with his arms folded across his chest like protective body armor.

“It’s not necessary, because right now I’d find anything you say difficult to believe.”

“Well, believe that I was always planning to break it off with you as soon as I started showing. I knew the political ramifications were too great and I was determined to protect you, but I just wanted to be with you for as long as possible, even if there was no future for us.”

“That’s even worse. You let me fall in love with you, all the while knowing that you were planning to dump me? Are you that selfish that my feelings meant nothing to you? Did I know you at all?”

He said it again—he’s in love with me, Pia’s heart, noticing all the things her brain did not want to hear, informed her.

“All I can say is, I am so very sorry. Valen, it was selfish of me. But we always said that we were just friends,” Pia said, noticing him wince at the word.

“You don’t believe that any more than I do.” Valen looked deeply into her eyes and then abruptly turned and opened the door, trying to block the sound of Pia’s weeping. “Last night, while you were asleep, I told you I loved you—” he began.

“Thank you,” she whimpered, not letting him finish. She was shocked by her words. This wonderful man just said he loved her, and “thank you” was all she could come up with?

“‘Thank you’? How polite,” he said, hiding his pain behind sarcasm.

“I don’t know what love is, Valen. And that’s why I’m so afraid of it,” Pia said with a truth that was as new and surprising to her as it was to him.

He paused and said nothing before continuing through the door. Once in the hallway, his body collapsed on its frame. “I could have shown you, if you’d only given me the chance,” he muttered to himself before trudging down the hall and out of Pia Jamison’s life.

Inside her apartment, Pia slid down the wall to the floor and began to sob. She’d always known this day was unavoidable and thought she was prepared for the inevitable, but Pia hadn’t anticipated how thick the hurt and anger that now clung to her would be.

As she sat on the floor feeling sorry for herself and Valen, Pia felt a flutter in her abdomen. She forced herself to calm down and sit perfectly still. There it was again—the baby was moving. Pia covered her belly with a protective self-hug and leaned her head back against the door.

The irony of this situation was nearly intolerable. She had stopped looking for love, made a plan, and gone on with her life. Then Valen had stepped into her world, wrapped her up in his warm and comforting embrace, and lifted her toward the heavens. And now, as if part of a heart-stopping aerial act in Cirque du Soleil, she’d taken a furious drop to earth and its harsh reality—she had gotten the baby she’d always wished for but lost the man she’d always dreamed of.

“She said she didn’t know what love was and that she was afraid of it, but she never said she didn’t love me,” Valen revealed to his campaign chief. He was grateful for the trustworthy ear, as keeping this ache inside him was too excruciating.

Ed poured his boss another cup of coffee and allowed him to expel his pain. It wasn’t quite noon yet, but he had canceled all of Valen’s appointments, sensing his need for a mental health day. This situation with Pia Jamison had rocked his boss off kilter, and Ed needed him to get back on track—fast.

“Val, it was the only thing you could do. We’ve gone over the scenario a hundred times. You could try to keep the relationship under wraps as long as possible, but in the end, in this political climate, someone would find out, and then what?

“The ‘Respect Yourself’ campaign is finally getting the attention it deserves. It was genius to extend it past individual family values into global family values.”

“That was Pia’s vision, not mine. I took that from her.”

“Okay, she’s a smart woman, but let’s face facts—you don’t know all that much about her. For all we know she was working for the Dems to set you up. Or she might just be some power-hungry gold digger who gets her kicks screwing power players instead of ball players. Either way, it’s not pretty.”

“No. I won’t believe she was out to hurt me or my campaign,” Valen insisted.

“Okay, we’ll give her the benefit of that doubt. She might love you, who knows, but the bottom line is, she lied. And not just a little lie—a potentially life-altering, career-ending lie. If you stay with her and the Democrats or the liberal press get wind of the situation, your entire family values platform will go down the toilet, along with your credibility and political career. This is a no-win situation for everyone. You did the only thing you could do.”

Valen simply sipped his coffee, trying to swallow the unfairness of it all.

“Val, when you’re sitting in that Senate chamber, you two can try again, if that’s what you want. But right now we have to concentrate on what you need to do, which is cut all ties with Pia Jamison and win this election.”