Her Pregnant Agenda. Линда Гуднайт

And that one word started the bawling over again.

      “Open the door,” a concerned voice demanded.

      “Who is it?” Ariana managed to squeak.

      “Emily Winters. Who’s in there?”

      If she wasn’t already squalling her brains out, she’d cry. Emily Winters, the boss’s daughter. The jig was up, the party was over. She may as well come clean. Besides, she was desperate for a tissue.

      “Ariana Fitzpatrick,” she said and stepped out, taking care not to whack her belly on anything in the process. She grabbed for the tissue dispenser.

      “Ariana!” Emily’s gaze flew to Ariana’s midsection. “Are you all right?”

      “Yes,” she managed to say, which was a silly answer given that she clearly was not all right.

      How could she explain to Emily Winters, of all people, the extent of her duplicity? Ariana battled another wave of tears. More than anything she didn’t want to lose her job. Couldn’t afford to lose it now with the babies coming and Benjy gone like the wind.

      “Obviously, something has happened. If not your babies, then what?” In a chic blue sheath topped with a white jacket, Emily looked slim and professional. With the emphasis on slim.

      Ariana was desperate to tell someone, was certain she would explode if she didn’t. These months of white lies and saving face and fretting over possible damage to Wintersoft, Inc. had taken an enormous toll on her. Who better to hear the truth than the boss’s tenderhearted daughter? Before the tears rolled again, she managed to blurt, “I’m a big fat liar.”

      With the emphasis on fat.

      Emily didn’t looked shocked, only concerned. “Want to tell me the problem? Maybe I can help.”

      “I’m pregnant.”

      “Well, uh—yes,” Emily’s sapphire gaze dropped to Ariana’s middle filling up half the distance between the stall and the sink. “I had noticed that.”

      Ariana finally found her humor and laughed. Emily joined her. Who wouldn’t notice a woman who’d swallowed a Volkswagen?

      “I think everyone in the company is excited about your twins and the upcoming wedding.”

      Ariana fought back a new threat of tears. “That’s the problem. There’s not going to be a wedding. I made that up.” The little white lie had seemed like the best solution at the time. “Benjy jilted me two months ago—on the day we were supposed to be married.”

      “Oh, Ariana, I’m so sorry.” Emily ripped more tissue from the dispenser and poked the soft paper into Ariana’s hand. “But I don’t understand. Why lie about it? You’re not the loser, he is.”

      Ariana sniffed and dabbed at her sodden face. One of the twins elbowed her. Taking the hint, she leaned sideways, giving him more room. “I love my babies and wouldn’t undo them if I could. But I was worried about causing a problem for the company. My job in public relations is to make Wintersoft, Inc. look good. Instead I’m a walking poster child for an abstinence program.”

      At least that was part of the reason. She’d thought everything would eventually work itself out and the lie wouldn’t matter, but the problem only grew until she didn’t know what to do anymore.

      “Nonsense. The company’s image is not the important issue here, Ariana. You and your twins are.” Emily frowned. “This Benjy jerk is planning to support you financially, isn’t he?”

      Ariana sighed and pressed the tissue into her burning eyes. “According to Benjy, I’m on my own. He thinks the stork brought these babies.”

      “That’s outrageous!”

      The bathroom door swished open and Carmella Lopez entered. The older woman took one look at Ariana’s tear-stained face and draped a motherly arm over her shoulders. “What’s outrageous?”

      Executive assistant to Emily’s father, Carmella was way too close to the top of the pecking order for Ariana’s comfort. She’d much rather Mr. Winters never know about her duplicity. But Emily spoke before Ariana could stop her. “Ariana’s fiancé left her and refuses to support their babies.”

      “The dog.” Carmella stepped away, sympathetic brown eyes traveling over Ariana’s very pregnant body. “What you need is a good lawyer.”

      “As if I can afford one,” Ariana bemoaned.

      Eyes lighting up, Emily held up a finger. “I told you I could help. One of the best attorney’s in Boston is our general counsel, and I’ll bet we can talk him into taking your case pro bono.” She took Ariana’s hand and pulled her to the door.

      “Oh, no, I couldn’t.” Ariana pulled back, horrified. Wasn’t being pregnant, unwed and jilted bad enough without becoming a charity case to boot?

      “Of course you can. Lawyers do that kind of thing all the time. Ethics or something. And Grant Lawson is the embodiment of ethics.” She gave another tug, and Ariana, already overbalanced, had no choice but to follow.

      Carmella forestalled them. “Emily, could you come by my office later? We need to discuss an important matter.” Some sort of mental message passed between the two women.

      “Of course.” Emily wiggled two fingers and pushed Ariana into the hall. “See you later.”

      Ariana had a stitch in her side by the time Emily escorted her up to the fiftieth floor, through the outer office and passed Mr. Lawson’s prim and proper assistant, Sunny Robbins. After a soft knock, she poked her head around the door marked General Counsel. “Hi, Grant, do you have a minute? Ariana could use some advice.”

      Working furiously over a stack of papers, Grant Lawson glanced up at the interruption. He lay his pen aside. “Advice is what I do best. Come on in.”

      Athletically built with black hair and stunning blue eyes, all six foot two of Wintersoft’s top attorney exuded strength and power. Mr. Perfect, as the girls in the secretarial pool called him, was gorgeous. Respected by everyone in the company, he was the object of more than one single female’s fantasy. But while friendly and polite, he maintained a businesslike reserve that screamed, “Don’t get too close.”

      Though aware of his good looks and impeccable manners, Ariana was not among the drooling. She was too busy falling for men who needed rescuing. Trouble was, she never succeeded in solving their problems; she only added to her own.

      Rising, Grant came around the desk. “Have a seat, ladies.”

      They did. Emily sat with her long, slender legs crossed and her skirt at midthigh. Ariana envied anyone the ability to cross one leg over the other. Choosing the widest chair, she eased into the plush brown seat. Getting out of the thing might be another problem altogether.

      “Ariana’s ex-fiancé is refusing to pay child support,” Emily said. “I told her you might be willing to take her case—pro bono, of course, since her fiancé has left her in such a difficult situation.”

      Grant leaned his backside against the desk and crossed his ankles. Ariana would bet a week’s salary that suit was tailor-made to conform perfectly to his oh-so-fit physique. There ought to be a law against a man looking that good in the presence of an overly pregnant woman with a tear-blotched face.

      “I’ll need the details first, but I’m always happy to help a co-worker if I can.”

      “Good.” Emily rose from the deep cushioned chair, graceful as you please. Ariana turned green with envy. “I’ll leave you two to discuss the particulars.” She squeezed Ariana’s shoulder gently. “Everything will work out. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”

      With that she took her leave and Ariana was left to confess her total stupidity to Mr. Perfect. As the story unfolded, faint lines appeared in Grant’s forehead. Occasionally he broke in with a question. Twice he nodded, his appraising