The Sheikh's Borrowed Baby Page 7

  “Yes, I think so. Thank you, Karim,” she said gratefully. “With so many details on your mind, I didn’t expect you to take charge of this, as well.”

  “But, my princess, what else would I do? You and he are the family I have created, is it not so?” he offered with a dazzling smile.

  What choice had she been given, at this point, but to assume the roles he had planned?

  “Of course, my prince.”

  Her answer was tongue-in-cheek. He would have expected nothing less.

  “Aw-wah!” Aaron cried suddenly, with a mighty kick of both heels.

  Whether or not that was in agreement, Hallie couldn’t tell. The baby knew only that he was temporarily being ignored, and that seemed an unfair situation. Not when he, too, was looking so marvelous.

  “Aaron is certainly dressed for the occasion.”

  In warm summer weather, Aaron was usually most comfortable in a colorful onesie, with bare legs, bare feet, and bare arms. A hat, if the situation warranted, and if he complied. Now that he was active enough to begin crawling around, he had acquired a few bruises, just as does any boy exploring his world.

  This evening, he was looking his best, dressed in the outfit of a pampered baby sheikh. In a dapper little collared shirt and elasticized bow tie, long navy pants, and actual shoes and socks, he had fussed a little with all the extra pieces but had settled for chewing on his sleeve.

  There was no illusion of grandeur about Aaron.

  “Still teething?”

  Imagine Karim remembering that fact.

  “Still teething,” Hallie confirmed.

  It was one of the less adorable stages of his development—the drooling, the cheeks flushed with fever, the crankiness—and she was sure they both hoped that it would be over soon.

  The Appleton Country Club presented a magical, magnificent picture, with white fairy lights glimmering through the branches of every tree, and more strung along the flagstone walkway. For someone like Hallie, who had fantasized about attending such an exquisite event her whole life, she was held breathless in nervous excitement. She needed but the glass slipper to complete her fantasy.

  “Shall we?” asked Karim.

  The limo had stopped near the entrance; the driver had opened the rear door and was waiting for them to exit.

  Hallie took a breath, lifted her chin, bade the butterflies to lie still, and answered, “Of course.”

  They made quite a cavalcade: the young couple, the baby in his carriage, and the chauffeur trailing behind with Aaron’s essentials. Upon striding confidently into the designated ballroom, they were met—Hallie unhappily noticed—by raised brows and whispers from a number of the surprised guests.

  Karim paused to confer with the steward for their table placement.

  “Karim, my boy!” Chip Griffin’s rough, energetic voice greeted them as they were making their way through the crowd.

  The Sheikh stopped and turned, with one arm loosely around Hallie’s slim waist.

  “Good evening, Chip. Thank you so much for the invitation. It’s a pleasure to be here.”

  “Thank you for coming. And this lovely lady must be Mrs. Al Ahsan?”

  “Hallie,” she lightly corrected, reaching out to take the old man’s outstretched hand. “Just plain Hallie.”

  “Well, then, how do you do, just plain Hallie?” Chip chuckled, after a hearty shake. “And I see you brought little mini-Karim to visit, too!”

  “We certainly did, sir. This is Aaron, and I believe he is about to let you know how he feels about being here.”

  Right on time, Aaron, sitting upright in his stroller, shifted his overwhelmed brown eyes from one human to another, opened his mouth, and let out a shriek of outrage.

  “Oh, hush, sweetheart, shh.” Quickly, Hallie reached in to undo the straps, then lifted the baby into her arms. “It’s all right. Mommy’s here.”

  He was still whimpering and sniffling, clinging to her like a monkey seeking the nearest tree. As his mother continued to soothe him, rubbing his back in its grown-up clothes, he gradually calmed enough to begin looking around. Tears made his black lashes heavy and lay like dewdrops on his chubby little cheeks.

  “Aw, poor little guy,” sympathized Chip. “Just too much noise and strangeness goin’ on.”

  This seemed to be Karim’s cue to act. “May I take him?” he asked Hallie.

  She winced. “This may not be the best—”

  “Why, sure, go right ahead,” Chip interrupted. “Ain’t nothin’ that a little cuddlin’ can’t help.”

  The little group was already the center of attention, with guests watching this unusual scene and commenting behind flat palms of—what? Displeasure? Disdain?

  Color rushed into Hallie’s cheeks at the implied criticism, but she held her head high and continued to smile as she surrendered her son to Karim’s arms.

  Instantly, the baby quieted. Turning, he studied the man who held him with such expert care, and then, he struck. A grab for the most prominent object—Karim’s nose—caught both by surprise, and Aaron giggled.

  “Ah-dah!” he crowed in triumph.

  His audience, relieved at the change in mood, laughed.

  “Now there’s a boy who knows his father!” Chip cheered approvingly.

  Hallie, chagrined, dared not exchange a knowing look with Karim. Sipping at the drink he was carrying, Chip glanced around in search of someone.

  “Ah, Annie, hon! Here, come meet a Karim’s wife and kiddo.”

  Seeing the dress her hostess was wearing—a sleek, shining pearl-gray gown that perfectly fit her slender figure—along with all the other exotic costumes being exhibited by trophy wives and barely-adult girlfriends, Hallie realized with relief that at least her judgment had been right on the money. Clothing-wise and jewelry-wise, she might have been one of this group since birth. Etiquette? Questionable. Bloodline? Much more in doubt. Ability to make small talk like a natural? Perhaps she might pretend to be suffering from laryngitis.

  She could only pray that the knocking of her knees was not visible.

  “So nice to meet you, dear!” Annemarie was being not only polite, but kind. “We’re so happy you were able to come tonight. And this is the darling baby boy Karim has been raving about?”

  “Raving about?”

  “Oh, well, not so much vocally, but—you know, that texting thing that they all do nowadays.” She gave a light laugh as her fingers twined around Hallie’s ice-cold hand. “I must confess, the modern technology world is beyond me. If it were up to me, I’d still be using an old rotary phone.”

  Chip stepped forward to slip a tuxedoed arm around his wife’s shoulders.

  “Well, now, darlin’, you needn’t be reminding folks what a couple of fogies we are. That is one fine-lookin’ boy you got there, Karim. Looks just like you, too.”

  Good thing Hallie didn’t have a drink yet; she would have choked on a swallow, for sure. Recovering slightly, she murmured that it seemed an imposition on hospitality to cart a small child along to something so grand.

  “Don’t you worry about that, Hallie,” assured Griffin. “I’ll let people know that I was the one who did the invitin’. Besides, in case this affair ends up to be too boring—” he paused for a wink, “—that kid will give you the perfect excuse to make a run for it. You okay there, Karim?”

  “I am well on all counts, Chip.”

  Familiar with and accepting the garrulous nature of his host, Karim had been letting the conversation wind its way along while he entertained the baby.

  “Glad to hear it. Whaddya say we head over and sit down at our table? And we’ll fetch you two somethin’ to drink. You’re with us, and you can get acquainted with our own two sons. We can talk business later.”

  “And any time you need to slip away to take care of your lovely son, dear,” said Annemarie in an aside, “you just go right ahead.”

  They made slow progress to the honored main table, mostly because the couple was halted every few step
s for a greeting and congratulatory wishes. Hallie, at Karim’s elbow, felt her eyes widen in an “uh-oh” moment.

  “Karim, it’s their anniversary,” she hissed from the side of her mouth. “We didn’t bring a gift.”

  He was busy shifting the enraptured baby from one arm to the other, even while pushing the stroller awkwardly ahead.

  “But of course we did, dear wife. I would never turn up to an anniversary celebration empty-handed.”

  “Oh.” She glanced about; no one was paying attention. “What did you get them?”

  “What did we get them?” He gave her the sparkling grin that proved what a great time he was having. “A beautiful card, that was placed with the others being gathered together. And two tickets for a Broadway play I overheard Chip telling someone his wife would like to attend. Tickets to a performance that, so I am told, was sold out, and were therefore impossible to purchase.”

  Of course. With his unlimited funds and his devastating charm, he would always be able to achieve the impossible.

  At the table, with Aaron safely installed in a high chair and beginning to make hungry noises, the faux Al Ahsans were offered their choice of refreshments and then introduced to the junior members of the Griffin family. John Tobias Griffin, referred to as JT, was accompanied by his wife of five years, Marissa. Randy Griffin, sat alongside his wife, Christina. Both sons appeared as Hallie imagined their father must have looked, thirty years ago.

  “Can you believe the nerve of these ungrateful rascals,” complained Chip to his company’s potential purchaser, “not wantin’ to go into the family business?”

  “It is ever thus,” Karim responded tactfully. “So often the paths of a father and son diverge, split apart, and go their separate ways.”

  “Well, they certainly wanna do that. JT has formed his own startup—somethin’ to do with computers that’s totally outa my field of expertise, and—”

  “And it’s quite successful,” interjected the son with a crooked smile. “So, it’s put Pop in a tizzy, since he figured I’d never make anything of myself cut off from Griffin Oceanic.”

  “And I’m the ne’er-do-well,” said Randy, reaching across the table for a handshake. “Never had any desire to work at the place, or take it over when Dad retired. Guess he had no choice but to sell, to whatever buyer he could find.”

  “Isn’t it brave of you,” Christina, a brittle blonde with an overdone fake tan, cooed to Hallie, “to bring a child to a formal affair like this.”

  The atmosphere became suddenly thick and stifling. Hallie, feeling attacked by the comment, turned desperate eyes to Karim.

  Before he could speak in their defense, however, Annemarie took over.

  “Chip and I asked the Al Ahsans to come with their baby, Christina dear. And we were happy when they accepted. It’s nice when little ones can celebrate with their families, don’t you think?”

  Around the spacious room, a good deal of quiet cadence was making itself known: hums of conversation, occasional ripples of laughter, the muted classical renderings of a small orchestra, the footsteps of attentive servers moving back and forth, around and through.

  Here at the head table, however, a chilling silence followed Annemarie’s light but significant question. Pointed, no less. No grandchildren had resulted from either marriage, Hallie knew; whether out of choice or for other reasons, she had no idea.

  “Ah, well, Annie, let it go,” broke in her husband, patting the hand laden down with its glossy anniversary ring and glamorous diamond bracelet. “We’ve had thirty good years, and now we’re passing on the company we’ve built to Karim, here—a good, strong family man. Let’s just celebrate, shall we?”

  Deliberately, Hallie turned away to check on her son, who, draped in a bib, was chewing happily and wetly away on a cracker. She didn’t dare meet the kind gazes of this older couple, who had welcomed her so warmly into the fold, when she was living such a lie right before their eyes.

  She wanted to jump on the table and scream out, “It isn’t true. We’re not married; my baby isn’t his; he’s doing this only to grease the wheels for a buyout!”

  Of course, she didn’t. She couldn’t. She had signed a contract. Even though she wouldn’t betray Karim, with all his behind-the-scenes machinations, she felt she was betraying the Griffins, who clearly trusted too much, too quickly.

  So, like a coward, she hid behind Aaron’s needs. Knowing full-well, miserably, that she could never take the moral high ground again, in any difference of opinion. She had forfeited that right.

  Meanwhile, the two Griffin sons, as might have been expected, set up a protest on their own. And even their wives chimed in, hissing like furious geese.

  “My job may be a disappointment to you, Pop, but—”

  “Just because I hadn’t made my first million by the time I turned twenty-five!”

  “Having a baby would wreck my body, and I don’t want to—”

  “There’s plenty of time for children, once we decide—”

  “Hold it, hold it!” Chip, laughing, held up both palms to halt the flood of recriminations. “Sure didn’t think I’d open up such a can of worms tonight. Holy Cow.”

  Didn’t he? Peering up and slightly sideways toward their host, Hallie caught the gleam of satisfaction in the old man’s eyes. Perhaps he wasn’t so trusting as she’d believed. He probably couldn’t have gotten along so many years as he had in the dog-eat-dog realm of commerce, had he not turned a cynical attitude to whatever he’d gotten involved in.

  Interesting. Very interesting.

  Just then, Hallie’s make-believe husband slipped his hand over hers—under cover of the crisp white tablecloth—and squeezed. Then, he added one of his trademark knowing smiles, which sent her suggestible heart into a series of somersaults. She wondered if he had guessed at how she was reacting to all this ruckus, and was, therefore, signaling that everything would be all right.

  Reassured, Hallie drew a deep breath and straightened.

  “Aaron is doing all right?” Annemarie asked.

  “Yes, he’s fine. For the moment. Although—” Hallie gave a light laugh, “—as I’m sure you recall, that mood can change at the drop of a hat.”

  Thus far, she had added little to the conversation, feeling that the wiser course was dignified silence.

  “Noisy little monsters,” she thought she heard Christina mutter.

  Annemarie smiled, ignoring whatever undercurrent had rippled across the table.

  “Yes, I certainly do recall. Chip, dear, I see that the servers are bringing our salad plates. Put that drink down and get some solid food into your stomach.” The smile swung back to Hallie. “Men can be such children sometimes.”

  Dinner proceeded, as planned, with one delicious course following another. The food was either chilled or steaming hot, depending upon the dish, and cooked and prepared to perfection. But even that couldn’t provide insulation from the occasional sniping of the sons and their spouses. No wonder Chip Griffin was selling his beloved enterprise to an outsider. Evidently, a good reputation could not make up for the lack of good manners.

  Everyone else seemed to be enjoying themselves. Or was all that show of pleasure and excitement just another part of the evening’s play-acting? A few male guests, who had already filled their plates and were now filling their wine glasses, began clinking the silverware and calling out raucous admonitions to “Kiss, kiss, kiss!”

  “Damned idiots,” muttered Chip, looking around. “We’re not at a wedding, we’re celebratin’ an anniversary.”

  Instead, he and Annemarie sweetly toasted each other with a very costly vintage champagne, of which bottles were making the rounds.

  In the middle of things, Aaron realized that he was definitely being deprived of something worth fighting for, and he kicked up a fuss. Christina, the more vocal of the Griffin wives, looked down her nose and clucked her tongue while Hallie removed various jars and spoons from the diaper bag.

  “There, you see,
almost the same thing,” Hallie soothed her son as he began gobbling away. “Once you get your teeth in,” she promised him, “all sorts of good things can come along.”

  Aaron grinned disarmingly and disgustingly. Christina turned away.

  The meal went on, the tables were cleared, and coffee and tea were brought out with dessert—lemon custard cake slices, topped with sliced almonds and vanilla curd. Hallie managed to eat her own serving in between feeding her child.

  “You do remember that a nanny is waiting on standby,” Karim leaned toward her to murmur, “whenever you need help.”

  She flashed him a grateful smile.

  “Yes, I do, and thank you. It’s just that Aaron has his own way of doing things; you know how it is. I’ll get him cleaned up and changed in the ladies’ room, he’ll take his bottle, and then he’ll probably go right off to sleep.”

  Her faux husband looked at both of them with incredible pride and satisfaction.

  “Aaron has been so well-behaved, Hallie. He is—he is any man’s dream of a son.”

  In the brief time she had known him, Karim had treated her with incredible charm and sensitivity. But this was one of the nicest things he could ever have said. It had broken her heart that Eduardo had disappeared before he could even feel the baby’s first kick, hold him when he was born, or learn to bond with his child. Far worse, it bothered her that Aaron was growing up without a good father’s strength and influence to guide him.

  That Karim recognized this lack, and acknowledged it so perfectly, warmed her straight through.

  In response, Hallie looked at him with a peculiar, almost melting expression that was not lost on those around the table.

  “Whatever private conversation you’re havin’ down there, Karim,” boomed Chip, “it’s sure having some effect on that pretty lady you’re with. Hope that baby of yours will let you stay for the dancin’ pretty soon.”

  “We were just discussing that,” Karim answered. “Perhaps, for a while, at least. As you can see, Aaron is being quite cooperative with his parents’ wishes.”

  “Would he dare be anything else?” Hallie’s murmur came tongue-in-cheek, but loud enough for everyone at the table to hear and chuckle over.