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Chapter Six
Pregnancy Week 9: Buds for future teeth are starting to appear in the mouth. Intestines are beginning to form.
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"Stila Baby, I know you know who the father is. Wouldn't it be so much easier if you just tell me so that we can march into some poor men's life together and deliver the news?" Theo asks me, coming into my room for the third time that Saturday.
"Go away. Leave me alone," I groan, the pillow over my mouth muffling my voice.
Thankfully, he leaves me to wallow in peace.
I must give him credit, though. I have been held up in my room, if I'm not at work, for a week straight. What am I supposed to do? I know that eventually, and soon, I'm going to have to tell Clyde. It's not like I can keep this baby away from him, I mean it is as much of his offspring as it is mine.
So I make a decision. Today, I'm going to find his number (probably on the internet somewhere), and call him.
I throw the pillow across the room in nerves and pick up my laptop from the floor beside my bed. Opening it up, I immediately open a tab and type in "Clyde Lyles number". In .24 seconds, google has at least 240,000 results.
Ignoring the first two, which were Tumblr and Wikipedia (Never rely on those sites for information), I click on the third link. It takes me to a web page named "Everything you need to know about Clyde Lyles (EYNKCL for short)". Shocked, although I shouldn't be, I scroll the very end where a rumored phone number was.
Fetching my phone, I dialed the number and, after five minutes of gaining courage, press send.
"Hello," a little girls cheery voice came through the phone.
"Hi. I'm looking for Clyde Lyles," I say, completely perplexed as to why a little girl was answering Clyde's phone.
"Oh, hehe. Sorry. This isn't actually his number. I just thought I'd get lucky and he'd call me because I'm truly his number one fan," the girl said.
I said my thank you's and goodbyes and hung up the phone, confused and distressed.
I went back to the google page and decided to just type in Clyde's company name, and sure enough, a web page popped up.
Scrolling to the bottom of the web page, I saw the "contact us" button and pressed it, which sent me to a page that listed 2 phone numbers, a number for the company as a whole, and another one to get in contact with Clyde's secretary. It also listed an email and address, which obviously were no use to me.
I dialed in the secretary number, and sure enough, a high pitched female voice answered, sound a lot older than the previous female encounter.
"Hello, Clyde Lyles secretary, how may I be of assistance?" She asked.
"Hello. This is Stila Brookes. I was wondering if you could schedule a lunch date with Mr.Clyde? He should remember me. If not, remind him of the girl he had a one night stand with about two months ago. We were at Avenue nightclub, I was wearing a black dress?" I say, not realizing how angry I am about this situation until talking to someone who is close to the person I want to kill.
"I'm sorry miss. I see your type all the time. But Mr.Lyles is a very busy man, who doesn't have the time to date. Which is why he required you. One night stands for him are very frequent, and I hate to break it to you, but you aren't special." The secretary said back to me.
Astonished at this conversation, and the savage way she talked to me, I hung up completely humiliated and pissed off.
If she thought she saw the last of me, she was dead wrong.
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Walking up to Tek83, I was starting to get twitchy and unsure of my decision. I kept asking myself if I really wanted to do this, to embarrass myself this much.
But the truth is, I do. It'll all be worth it. I cannot and will not keep Clyde Lyles out of the loop of his baby's life, even if he is a manwhore.
Somehow, I managed to get past the lobby and into the elevator with no questions asked. Looking at the elevator buttons, I saw 56 floors. Since Clyde is a man of the rich, his floor would be the 56th.
I pressed the button and nervously twisted my fingers, watching the floors go up one by one.
By floor 47, I was a sweaty mess. Whoever has done this, whoever has had a one night stand with a billionaire, CEO manwhore, and has told them that they are soon to have an offspring, I applaud them.
As the elevator dinged, and the door opened, I couldn't see straight and was shaking.
"Hello, How may I help you?" The same secretary I was on the phone with earlier asked, giving me a fake smile.
"I'm here to see Clyde Lyles," I said, watching her fake smile turn into a real frown.
"As I told you on the phone, he would rather not see you. I get it, honey, I've had my fair shares of one night stands that I wish I could turn into marriages. But it won't happen. Since I'm nice and all, I'll let you leave by yourself without a security escort," she says, looking back at her computer unfazed.
"You don't understand..." I say, clearly ignored. And then I have a brilliant plan. Why not just tell her the truth? Then she'd have to let me see him. "Okay, listen. Could I have a pen and a piece of paper please?"
She looks up from her computer, clearly annoyed, and lets out a big huff. "If this doesn't win me over, my friends Charlie and Duke would love to show you our exit." She says, handing me a piece of paper along with a ballpoint pen.
With the pen, I scribble onto the piece of paper 4 words. I handed them back to her, grinning from ear to ear. Surely she'll let me in now.
"Miss, do you seriously think you can fool me?" She says, ripping up the note. "You're probably one of those fans from that stupid site-"
"Is there a problem here?" A deep voice asks from behind me. I instantly recognize that voice, so many weeks ago we were sharing a bed.
"This girl is insane!" The mean secretary said, throwing her hands up and reaching for the phone.
Clyde finally looked towards me, and we locked eyes. I could see he remembered me, and a big smile fell across his face.
"Dartha, it's okay. She's okay," he said, signaling for her to put the phone down. "What brings you here, Ms...."
"Stila. Stila Banks." I say, giving so-called Dartha a winning smile and wink.
"Well, what can I do for you, Ms. Banks?"
"Well, umm, this is kind of something we need to talk about... maybe over coffee?" I suggest, getting fidgety with my hands.
"Sure. Dartha, hold my calls for me. I'm taking my lunch break early," he calls, already walking towards the elevator.
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Arriving at a local cafe, after riding in Clyde's comfortable silver convertible, we walk inside and order coffee.
I get my signature Iced French Vanilla hazelnut with extra cream and sugar, while Clyde just goes for plain dark roast coffee.
We take a window booth that overlooks the busy streets of Manhattan, sipping our Coffees in silence for a few moments.
"So, Stila. I'm guessing that with all the trouble you went through to reach me, this isn't some kind of plot to hook up with me again," he said, arrogance shining through his clear, poreless face.
"No, um. This is a little bit more serious," I say, straightening up and ditching my coffee so that I reconnect my hands and resume the fidgeting.
"Lay it on me. I'm all ears. Unless it's about your stupid boss. Oh god, I hate him. Please tell me you quit and moved on to owning a Chinese shop. That would be better than working for him," he says, his tone laced with humor.
I don't know how I'm ever going to get through his immature, charming exterior.
"So uhh, it's actually not about any of that. Sadly, I do have the same job with the same prick. But it's okay." I say, getting even more nervous. "Actually, I asked you to come here with me to tell you that somehow... I'm pregnant."
Slowly, the smile falls off his face. He thinks for about two minutes, and the smile reappears. "Wow, that's great! I don't know why you'd want to tell silly old me, considering I'm just a funky, but amazing, one-night stand. But that's great, Stila!"
Seriously? He thinks I fought my way through his secretary just to tell him I'm having someone else's baby?
"Erm, actually, Clyde, it's kind of.. Yours."
His smile once again falls off his face. But this time, it doesn't return. We sit there awkwardly for a few seconds until suddenly he jumps up.
"I'm sorry, I can't be part of this. I'll call you soon," he says, leaving before I get the chance to say anything.
He can't just walk out on me! I jump up, and follow him, feeling my eyes burn with unwashed tears.
"Clyde, wait!" I call, running to try and catch up to him.
Tears are running down my face.
Lots and lots of tears.
But do I care? Of course, I don't.
All I care about is the man who is currently walking away from me into the busy streets of hell.
Do I have the courage to stop him?
Or to let him go?
Afterall, it is his baby...
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Chapter Six done!
Song: Fight Song By Rachel Platton
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