Princess (The American Princess Series) Read online

  He grabbed her arm. “No, don’t. You know she’s been with us forever. My parents would never fire her and she won’t bother us again tonight. Please? Stay a while longer?”

  His eyes were beseeching and Sydney felt herself relent. Once again. She couldn’t seem to help herself. She wasn’t good at telling him no. She let herself sink back onto the floor.

  “How do you know that she won’t bother us again tonight? How many other girls have you had here like this?”

  Sydney was only half-joking. Christian definitely had a reputation for being a playboy. That was something she had been quite aware of when she started dating him. For some reason, it had been part of the allure… to see if she could get him and keep him. It hadn’t taken her long, which surprised her. And they had been together for five months now, a record for both of them.

  “What?” His voice was full of exaggerated innocence. “Me? You’ve got to be kidding. Sydney, you’re my first.”

  The over-emphasized expression of outrage on his face cracked her up and she reached over to trail her fingers through his dark hair, which he interpreted as an open invitation and moved closer to her. She promptly shrugged out of his reach.

  “Um, right. Seriously. How many other girls has Fran seen you with?”

  “Well, that’s a difficult question, really. She’s getting older and her eyesight is getting bad…” He stopped talking as he pushed her over and gently pinned her down, nuzzling the side of her neck. “Besides, that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m with you now. And you smell really good…what is that? Chanel no. 5?” His voice trailed off as he kissed further down on her neck.

  “Close. It’s Chanel Mademoiselle and it matters to me, Christian. You were my first. Girls always remember that. It’s special. I want you to remember me, too. I don’t want to be just another girl that Fran walked in on.” She sighed as he nuzzled even further down on her neck toward her breasts. “I can’t focus if you keep doing that.”

  He chuckled and mumbled, “That’s sort of the point, Syd.”

  She closed her eyes as his hands slid over her hips. She’d worry about it later. The stone tiles of the foyer were rough against her back, but she was oblivious to it. All she concentrated on was the warm, delicious weight of Christian’s body as he moved against her.

  * * *

  Sunshine flooded her bedroom, filling every possible crevice with light, just like it did every other afternoon. It was cheerful, optimistic and really, really bright.

  Sydney squinted as sat up in her bed and then promptly clutched her stomach. It rolled harshly as her mother continued opening the blinds. She was sure that if she looked into a mirror, her skin would appear gray. In fact, she felt like the epitome of the word ‘ashen,’ as nausea and dizziness overwhelmed her and she groaned.

  “Sydney? You cannot lie around in bed all day. We’ve got a photo-shoot for your father’s new campaign mailing in an hour. You’ve got to move.” Jillian’s eyes did a quick once-over of her daughter and she paused mid-step.

  “Are you ill? You’ve got dark circles.”

  It was clear that she was more appalled than concerned. If Sydney was sick, she wouldn’t photograph well. They needed to portray the perfect all-American family for the photos, just like always.

  “I don’t feel well at all,” Sydney moaned as she fell back against her pillows. “And it won’t go away. I’ve had this stupid bug ever since I was at Christian’s a couple of weeks ago. At first, I thought I just ate too much or the pizza sauce was bad or something but that can’t be it. I’ve had it too long. And I’m tired constantly. Maybe I have something like mono. Is that possible?”

  She looked at her mother questioningly. “I should probably go to the doctor.”

  “Oh, that would be just perfect, Sydney. Then I would have to explain to the world how you got Kissing Disease.”

  Her mother was curt and unsympathetic as she stalked into Sydney’s closet to yank clothes off the rack for her daughter to wear.

  “Pull yourself together. You need to shower. You look like death.” She tossed a cream colored v-neck sweater and a pair of linen slacks on the foot of the bed.

  “Ugh. I feel like death, too.” Sydney groaned as she stared up at the ceiling.

  She swallowed hard to battle the waves of nausea that threatened to overtake her. It didn’t help. Saliva was pooling in her mouth and her breath smelled sour. The room started spinning around her and she suddenly couldn’t contain it. She lunged out of bed and barely made it to the bathroom before she started heaving. When she was finished, she curled up into a ball and rested her cheek on the cool marble floor.

  “Mom?” She croaked hoarsely. “I don’t think I can do the photo shoot today. I feel awful.”

  Jillian loomed in the bathroom door for a moment before tentatively approaching Sydney. She quickly laid the back of her elegant hand on Sydney’s forehead. “No fever. Do you have a sore throat?” As she asked, she backed quickly away, as though Sydney might have the plague.

  “No. I just feel like I’m going to die any minute. I’m so nauseous!”

  Her mother suddenly froze mid-step as a thought occurred to her.

  “Sydney, last month, when you were taking antibiotics for that ear infection, did you and Christian use condoms? And don’t try telling me that you don’t have sex. I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen the birth control pills.”

  She gestured toward the innocent looking little pink and white packet sitting innocuously next to Sydney’s bathroom sink.

  Sydney was instantly uncomfortable, feeling as though she was five years old instead of seventeen.

  “Since I’m on the pill and we’re only with each other… no. We don’t use condoms.”

  She faltered as she saw the glacial look on her mother’s face. “I know that’s bad, but-”

  “Sydney, when was your last period?” Jillian interrupted in a voice that dripped icicles.

  Sydney stared at her mother in shock at the implication of the question.

  “I don’t know. I’m not very regular. It’s been a couple of months, I think.”

  Her mother’s face hardened into stone, her mouth a straight, creased line.

  Sydney was quick to add, “But that’s normal for me. Like I said, I’m not regular. And I’m on the pill. I’ve never missed taking one.”

  “You’re an idiot, Sydney. How could you be so careless? Antibiotics can negate the effect of the pill. Wait in here. Do not come out of this room.”

  Her mother’s voice was so icy, that Sydney didn’t bother to assure her that she wasn’t going anywhere. She couldn’t if she wanted to. She felt too ill to stand up. She simply lay with her cheek pressed pathetically against the floor until her mother returned thirty minutes later.

  She sat up shakily as Jillian roughly thrust a small box into her hands, trying to ignore the fact that the room was spinning.

  “Here. Take this. I’ll wait out here.”

  Her mother turned her back on her and stalked out without another word.

  As Sydney hovered over the toilet, trying to pee on the plastic stick and not her fingers, her sole humorless thought was that wagging her butt over a toilet was definitely not the behavior of a senator’s daughter. She sat back down on the cool floor to wait, her head leaned back against the wall and her slender arms wrapped tightly around her knees.

  Barely two minutes later, her mother burst back through the door to find Sydney staring in blank fixation at the urine saturated stick in her hand.

  “Well?” Jillian demanded impatiently.

  Sydney wordlessly turned the pregnancy test toward her.

  There were two blue lines.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Well, today was as good a day as any to die, she supposed. As Sydney glanced around the room, she only saw people that wanted to kill her. Several of them in fact. She might as well be facing a firing squad. Her precarious situation had the same deadly implications.

  Even though the Ross family had
smiled and acted as though nothing was amiss in front of their photographer, Sydney had needed to duck out and run for the bathroom several times. During one such time, Jillian had taken the liberty of calling Christian’s parents. They were now sitting stone-faced next to Christian and across the table from Sydney in her father’s den.

  Her own parents sat next to the Price’s, leaving Sydney to sit all by herself, facing everyone else alone. Right now, she felt as though it was Sydney Ross against the world…the condemned facing the executioner.

  Her father’s distinguished face was rigid and stern. He alternated between glaring at his daughter and then at the boy who had dishonored her, as though he couldn’t decide who he was more furious with. Sydney couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze or anyone else’s, for that matter.

  The tension in the room was palpable. Even Christian was uncharacteristically sober. She felt horrible that she hadn’t even been able to tell him the news herself. He kept glancing at her, but his face was so guarded that she had no way of gauging how upset he was. She wondered what he was thinking. Was he angry with her? Was he going to be supportive? She flickered a glance toward him again. He was staring at his hands quietly.

  There was no mystery as to where her mother stood, however. She was an open book… just like always.

  “You stupid little slut!” Jillian’s shriek broke the uncomfortable silence. “Couldn’t you keep your legs closed?”

  “Jillian…” Her father began, but her mother impatiently cut him off.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, Randall. Grow a set of balls!” Jillian snapped, before focusing her irritation on Sydney again, her cold eyes glittering with annoyance.

  “You’re a disgrace!”

  Sydney felt tears well up and focused hard on not letting them spill over as she stared at her reflection in the gleaming mahogany table. She looked incredibly pale against the rich hue of the wood. She said a quick silent prayer that she wouldn’t throw up in front of everyone. Her stomach was still unstable even though she had nibbled on a handful of crackers.

  “She wasn’t the only one involved.” Christian’s low voice broke through her concentration as he spoke for the first time, braving Jillian’s wrath. Sydney raised her head in surprise and met his steady gaze. “I was there, too.”

  Mrs. Price laid her hand on her son’s arm, a clear signal that she wanted him to be silent, but he shrugged it off. Sydney’s heart sped up as she realized that he might support her, even though he had been blind-sided with the news. She wished that he would get up and walk around to her side of the table, but he didn’t. He continued to sit like a stone next to his parents.

  “It doesn’t matter. This is a non-issue,” Jillian announced matter-of-factly. “I’m going to make an appointment at the clinic for her tomorrow and we’ll have it taken care of. Life will go on as normal with no one the wiser.” Sydney’s stomach began rapidly sinking and she gulped. She glanced down and saw that her hands were instinctively splayed protectively across her abdomen and in that one instant, she knew that she couldn’t have it taken care of. It was hers and she wanted it. And the only advocate it had… was her.

  “Mom, I don’t want an abortion.” Her voice was so soft that it was almost inaudible and everyone strained to hear her.

  Jillian’s teeth snapped together as she whipped her perfectly styled head around to stare at her daughter.

  “What?”

  The single word that Jillian hissed between her teeth resonated throughout the large elaborate room and bounced off of every possible corner. Sydney steeled herself to go head-to-head with her mother… an unprecedented event. No one was usually so foolish.

  “I don’t want to kill my baby. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” Sydney dared a glance at Christian and found him to be just as surprised as everyone else. Her resolve wavered for a brief second at the astounded look on his face.

  “Sydney.” Christian’s expression was puzzled, but still as gentle as his voice. “Syd, you can’t keep it. It would ruin everything. Not just for your parents, but for you. And me, too. You’re supposed to go to Columbia in a couple of months. I’m going to Princeton. We can’t do that pregnant.”

  She knew he was being logical and smart. But her emotions weren’t complying with logic at the moment. She made up her mind, instantly cementing her decision. She couldn’t kill it. Her resolve strengthened.

  “I know, Chris,” she murmured. “And I won’t ask you to do anything, I promise. I won’t even list you on the birth certificate, if you don’t want me to. I’ll do everything alone. But I can’t kill it. You can’t ask me to do that.”

  “Sydney, you just said it yourself. Right now, it’s an it. A mass of cells. A nothing. Don’t risk our futures for that. Please.”

  Christian’s voice was more subdued than she had ever heard it as he pleaded with her. When she looked into his somber eyes, she recognized the fear that she saw there and her heart broke. For him. Because he hadn’t asked for this any more than she had.

  “Chris, I mean it. I won’t involve you at all. I’ll do it myself. It’s my decision.”

  Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper. She knew that if she spoke any louder, she would cry. She took a deep breath to ward off the tears. It didn’t work. She was teetering on the edge of breaking down and it wouldn’t take much to make her lose it.

  “Princess,” her father began, but at Jillian’s icy glare, he firmed up his tone.

  “Sydney, this isn’t only about you. You are not only risking your future but also mine and your mother’s. And Christian’s. You need to think wisely. Please.”

  His dark brown eyes implored her and she had to look away, staring at the mahogany panels lining the walls instead while a few rebellious tears broke rank and streamed down her cheeks.

  “Daddy, I’m sorry. I won’t announce to the world that I’m pregnant. I’ll be very quiet about it- maybe it won’t raise as much of a stir as you think. Maybe no one will even find out.” Her voice was hopeful and just slightly naïve as she appealed to her father. She was nervously tapping her foot against her chair in a furious cadence, something she didn’t even notice as she focused on her father’s face.

  “Sydney, you know better than that...” Randall began, but once again, Jillian cut him off short.

  “Sydney, I will not stand aside and let you throw away everything that we’ve worked for. This is not a request. You will get an abortion. Tomorrow.”

  Her mother stood up as she spit the words at Sydney.

  Sydney started to answer but was interrupted when Christian’s mother spoke for the first time. Until that moment, both she and Mr. Price had been silent, absorbing the conversation, but not contributing to it. Now she wasted no time in letting her opinion be known.

  “Let’s make no mistake. No irresponsible little twit is going to compromise my son’s future. I won’t allow it. I don’t care how much political clout you have or that you have more money than God. I’m sorry, Randall. This isn’t personal.” The tiny, dark-haired woman looked at Sydney. “You will either get an abortion or you will sign a legal document releasing Christian from any and all ties to that baby. We want no part of this. This whole situation is ridiculous.”

  “Mom…” Christian started to protest.

  “Shut up, Christian. You’ve done enough already. I’m just cleaning up your mess!” his mother snapped.

  To Sydney’s intense disappointment, he did as his mother demanded and closed his mouth. He sat quietly as everyone else pondered Sydney’s future. His eyes held an apology, but it didn’t stop Sydney’s heart from breaking. The sense of abandonment she felt was stifling.

  “Mrs. Price, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” she murmured, as an errant tear dripped off the end of her nose and landed onto her clasped hands.

  “That doesn’t change the fact that it has happened,” Celine Price answered. “And now that it has, you have to do what is best for everyone.” Her dark eyes
gentled for a brief second before speaking again. “Part of growing up is doing the right thing, Sydney.”

  “You’ve been raised to know what the right thing is, Sydney,” her mother interjected. “And you will do it tomorrow.”

  “But Mother… That doesn’t feel like the ‘right thing.’ It feels wrong. And I must not be the only one who feels that way. There have been other political daughters who have gotten pregnant and had their babies. Their parents weren’t damaged beyond repair. In fact, they were able to spin it in a positive light. They just focused on how their daughters were taking the high road and being responsible.”

  “Oh, please,” Jillian scoffed. “They only chose ‘the high road’ because they didn’t find out early enough to take care of it or someone else let the information leak to the press. Stop being so naïve.”

  Talking to her mother was like talking to a brick wall, so Sydney once again appealed to her father.

  “Daddy, you’re against abortion. Everyone knows that. I would think that it would be worse for you if your daughter got an abortion and someone found out, rather than if I had the baby.” Her eyes pled with him in earnest and he closed his own for a moment, rubbing his silver tipped temples with manicured fingers before he replied.

  “I know, Sydney. I am against abortion. But your mother is right. I’ve worked too hard to get to where I am to allow myself to become damaged by this scandal. I assure you, no one will find out. The clinic is very discreet. And it’s better for you. You have your whole life in front of you right now. You’ll have babies when the time is right for you—and that is not right now. Trust me.”

  She wanted to. But she couldn’t. She knew that when it boiled down to it, her parents’ top priority was her father’s career. Hands down, end of story. Her wants and needs had always been secondary. And it was time that she took them into her own hands because no one else was going to consider them. She took a deep breath and faced her parents with her shoulders back and her chin up.