Pregnant For My Billionaire Stepbrother

“I’ve got to eat too, you know. I have people queuing up for this apartment. It’s a good apartment. I’m a good landlord. Not everyone is like me. When you were late with the money I said, “sure no problems, you take as long as you like”, but enough is enough. Two months is too long. I’ve got a little girl to feed.”

Sharing the proportions of her father, Sash would call her anything but little, but she knows what he means. She sighs again. She was in a fix and she knew it.

“Can you give me until the end of the week, please, Martin?”

“Are you going to get a job by the end of the week?” Martin says, eyeing her suspiciously.

“I sincerely hope so”, Sash says.

“Final deadline, no extensions”, Martin says fighting each other in the air in front of him in an act of exhausting expression. “The end of the week or you’ve got to leave.”

“Thank you, Martin”, Sash says. “I won’t let you down, I promise.”

He’s still stood there, looking suspicious, while Sash closes the door, kicks off her shoes and slumps down into the sofa.

That morning’s interview had been a complete and utter waste of her time.

She was sick of spending hours filling out application forms, weeks waiting to hear back from companies she had no interest in working for, and whole morning’s trying to sell herself for roles she knew were beneath her.

They hadn’t told her either way, of course, but she knew from the moment she walked into the room, based on the atmosphere alone, that it was going to be a no. It was the same old story, day in day out.

Either she wasn’t qualified, or she was too qualified, or she was qualified in the wrong way, or she was too pretty, or not pretty enough or pretty but just not in the way they were looking for right now.

She went to one interview last week where they told her she was too young. Too young to work in a college library putting books back on shelves. She looked the interviewer in the eye, shook her head in disbelief, stood up and walked straight out.

Everything that Sash chose to do of late seemed to be a waste of time and money. University debts, bills stacking up, behind on rent and nothing but a jar of cents to her name was seriously beginning to bum her out. There wasn’t even anything decent in the fridge to eat.

She knew what she had to do, but she just didn’t want to admit to it. Seeing him was such a last resort, she’d have to be so desperate there was no other way.

The trouble was, she knew she’d already exhausted every other option.

“That’s a Siamese fighting fish”, Alex says, “They tend to be rather aggressive. Your brother is quite keen on them.”

“He’s not my brother”, Sash says, straightening back up to face her.

“Oh”, Alex says, raising her eyebrows and forming an O shape with her thick, perfectly painted lips. “My mistake. It’s just in the appointment book it says ‘little sister.’”

“Our parents are married, that’s all. I think he thinks it’s cute calling me it. We’ve never really been all that close.”

Alex is a remarkable woman. She has wrinkle-free skin like recently pumped oil, and stands over six foot tall, towering above Sash when they find themselves side by side.

“I didn’t even know he had a sister”, Alex says.

“Step”, Sash says, reminding her of the distinction.

“Of course”, Alex says, her face curling up into a well practiced smile.

“Well”, Sash says, continuing to eyeball the huge tank of tropical fish that dominates the room, “maybe there’s a lot about your boss that you haven’t realized yet.” 

 Time passes agonizingly slowly. Alex returns to her desk and Sash listens to her answering a telephone that seems to never stop ringing, her voice clipped, polite and expedient. There are huge paintings that fill the vast wall space around them, a floor to ceiling window of glass that frames the ever changing city below, carpets of oriental design and lampshades that look like they’ve been lifted from a movie set of the latest futuristic blockbuster.

Sash sinks into the hug of a gargantuan leather arm chair, the depth of the seat enough to lift her legs completely off the ground. Like a child dominated by the size of the world they have only just realized they are inhabiting, she sits there in awe of her surroundings. She turns expensive fashion magazines over in her hands, unable to concentrate for long enough to read any of the articles, and then stands again to look at the city below, the workers running from place to place like ants in an industrial garden.

Back at the fish tank, she walks with them as they swim about in their world, one side of the tank to the other, trapped in a never ending circuit of unhappiness, broken only by the inability to remember it for more than fifteen seconds at a time. Clown fish, butterfly betta, loaches and swordtails, every single one of them beautiful and absolutely unique.

After another thirty minutes has ambled by, at which point Sash is about to give up completely and leave, Alex finally tells her he’s ready. 

Suddenly, after all that time waiting, Sash realizes that even though he might be, she’s not ready at all. She wants to back out, but she obviously can’t now. He’s expecting her and she’s here. The time to leave has already gone. The decision has already been made. Approaching the huge wooden doors that stands in the way of her and her past, she feels her heart beating frenetically in her chest. Alex nods encouragingly. Sash swallows hard. Finally with little other choice left, she pushes her way through, ready to face her destiny.

He’s stood to greet her, arms out passively, the offer of an embrace. His tousled hair a little bit longer than she remembers it, his chest even more robust, his eyes magnetic and debilitating, a universe and more inside each one.

“Sash”, he says. The word familiar on his lips, but rusty, as though too much time has passed since he’s had reason to say it out loud. Sash lets herself be taken, pressing herself close to her stepbrother for as long as she feels is acceptable, long enough anyway to breath in his familiar scent.

“You’ve got bigger”, she says coyly, pulling herself away from him to stand a foot away, her arms by her side now, but his still around her protectively.

“I’ve got older”, he says modestly.

“It doesn’t look like it”, Sash says, stealing a look into his eyes that lasts longer than she knows it should.

Dante smiles his contagious smile, and Sash can’t help but smile too. She looks to her feet and then back up to her gorgeous stepbrother. Three years and the feelings still haven’t gone away. She knew it too. She knew they wouldn’t.

‘What?” he says flirtatiously, knowing exactly what Sash is thinking.

“Nothing”, Sash says, shaking the moment away in a playful push to gain distance, desperate to show her stepbrother the meaning of their relationship now, desperate to show herself really, how much she has matured over the last three years, and how capable she has become of controlling her own emotions, even if the opposite is true.

“So, this is it, the beating heart of the Dante Hix empire”, Sash says, keen to change the subject. She brushes past her brother, their shoulders rubbing together slightly, enough to make her skin buzz, and her heart skip a significant beat.