She wanted to be a good mom.
But what did that even mean? It’s not like she had a great example of what motherly love looked like. She didn’t have a mother. Hell, she barely even had a father figure. At the very least, Corinne knew that her baby would have a kick-ass grandmother. She knew that Johanna would be there for her grandkid without even missing a beat.
It was Paris that worried her.
He had a one-stand with her, using a fake name.
How many other women had he been with? Corinne could hardly let herself believe that she was a special one. As a woman, she didn’t trust Paris. But as a mother, she did. She had seen the conviction in Paris’s eyes. He definitely wanted to take care of his kid.
And that’s what mattered in this situation.
There would probably come a day when Corinne’s past would come back to bite her in the ass. She would have to go on the run again, but there was no way she was going to bring her baby into that dangerous way of living.
With the baby being a Warwick, she knew he or she would be well taken care of.
Even if she had to leave.
Paris would have his mother and his brothers to rely on if she had to bounce.
Who was she kidding?
When she had to bounce.
Gustave Comtois would never give up on finding her. And when he did? She needed to make sure he never learned that she had a kid. He would definitely use her child as leverage to control her. She knew Gustave was capable of it.
After all, that’s exactly what he had done to her parents. That’s how Genevieve had come to be orphaned and manipulated into a very dangerous position.
That was why she was on the run.
That’s how she had become Corinne DuBois.
The sound of clattering china falling to the ground made her jump and look down. She had been so lost in her own head, she had dropped her second tray of the day. As she looked down, the acidic tide of her stomach rose, and she clasped a hand over her mouth and ran to the bathroom. Jean-Pierre shouted at her, but she couldn’t stop.
Not unless JP wanted her to spew her stomach contents in his precious shop.
After spending some alone time in the bathroom, Corinne composed herself enough to face her boss. She had to remember that she couldn’t just look down anymore. She had to bend down. The baby didn’t like the sudden neck movements associated with just craning her neck down.
“Corinne, you clumsy American,” JP hissed at her. “I know you’re having a hard time, but I can’t afford to replace all of the china you keep breaking. Take the rest of the day off, and don’t come back until you’re feeling better. I won’t have my customers complaining that service is shit, now that my waitress is pregnant and puking every few seconds.”
“How did you know?”
He shrugged. “Michelle, my wife, was very sick with our first baby. Much like you are now. It doesn’t take a doctor to see the condition you’re in. Now go. Get some rest, and try to drink tepid ginger tea. It helped my Michelle a lot. Call me to cancel your shift tomorrow afternoon if you need to. Your job will be here when you need it.”
Corinne felt her eyes fill with tears, but JP shook his head at her.
“No crying. That’s just the hormones leaking out of your eyes. I wouldn’t fire a pregnant woman. Nor could I fire a new mother. Don’t worry too much. It’ll only aggravate your symptoms. Take care of yourself, you little lost American. It’ll be all right. You will see.”
Corinne nodded and sniffled back her tears. She gave JP a lot of shit for being a grumpy Frenchman, but he was being overly nice to her. Why was the whole world being kind all of the sudden? Was it because people felt bad for her pregnant state, or had the world always been filled with good, decent people, and she had never taken the time to notice?
Being on the run did that to a person. It made you paranoid and a little loopy.
Corinne went to the back room and grabbed her purse. She took small sips of water and munched on a saltine as she walked down the street. She knew she could have called Paris for a ride back to his mother’s house. In fact, she had a few text messages from him, reminding her that he was going to pick her up. But Corinne found that walking slowly and breathing deeply settled the nausea.
She walked down the streets of Paris, admiring the storefronts like she always did. It really was one hell of a beautiful city. It was packed to the brim with tourists, but she understood why people flocked to this city. It was stunning, and an impressive mix of old and new. The Eiffel Tower didn’t hurt the view. It was cool to just look up and see the wonder of a structure, especially at night, when it was all lit up.
Corinne turned into one small side street, knowing that there was a cute baby store not too far away. The prices were outrageous, and way out of her budget, but it didn’t hurt to look and dream of all the things she wished she could get for her little Peanut.
The store, with its baby pink and soft blue vitrine, was within eyesight, when she felt it.
The hair at the back of her head stood on edge, and her hands immediately went to her stomach to protect her not-even-there baby bump. She looked around at the busy street, but she couldn’t see anyone overtly staring at her.
It didn’t matter, though. She could feel it. She knew that there was a pair of eyes tracking her every movement. Nausea prickled the back of her throat, and she began to walk faster. She just needed to make it into the baby store, then she could ask the salesperson for help. Or she could call Paris for some help.
Could she?
Did she have it in her to admit to the father of her child that she was on the run? That she had done very bad things, and bad people were after her?
Corinne made her legs go faster without running. It wouldn’t be a good idea to let whoever was following her know that she was onto them. She walked faster and faster until she burst through the doors of the store. Her heart was going about a million miles a minute in her chest, and it ached painfully. Hot tears burned her eyes.
She didn’t want to be pregnant and on the run. She wanted her baby to be safe.
She made her way to the back of the store, her eyes glued to the door to see if the person who was trailing her would come into the store to keep an eye on her.
“Can I help you find something?” a nice little old lady asked. “Is this for a baby shower?”
“What?” Corinne’s focus on the door slipped, but she heard the bell above the door sound off. Was it because someone had come in, or because someone had walked out?
“Miss?” the salesperson asked as Corinne’s eyes settled on a man dressed all in black.
He was tall and thin with nondescript features, but she could have sworn that he was staring directly at her. It made her uneasy.
“No, I just…” she watched as the man grabbed a teddy bear and headed toward the cash register.
“You just browse, and I’ll be with you just as soon as I check out the gentleman.”
Corinne nodded and watched as the woman rang up the sale. The man’s eyes kept sliding in her direction, and Corinne was glued to the floor. He walked toward the door, but stopped to pick up a pregnancy book. He flipped through it, glancing backward at her.
“Miss?” the salesperson asked, coming to stand in front of her. “Are you in distress?”
Corinne looked at her, and she wanted to tell her that she was being followed. She just wasn’t sure if the man had been in the store before her or not. Was she losing her mind? Were her motherly instincts making her more paranoid than necessary?