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Since everyone was looking at them, Fliss joked, “That’s why I’ve asked them to be my birth coach. I already know Willow will do most of the work, and God knows Saint will be tied up with Grayscale business.”
That got a laugh from everyone except Saint. His expression stiffened. He set down his untouched cake, said, “Willow,” and walked out.
“Excuse me.” Willow gave the room a calm smile and followed.
Fliss’s heart lurched. “Saint!”
Embarrassed that she’d said something to upset him in front of everyone, she clumsily clambered to her feet and hurried after them, catching up to him and Willow at the elevator.
“Saint—”
“Go enjoy your party. I have something to do.” He looked resolute, not angry.
“But...” She searched his expression.
The elevator opened, and she stepped inside with him.
“I’ll take the stairs,” Willow said, turning away from joining them.
“That was a joke,” Fliss said as the doors closed. “I wantyouto be with me at the birth.” He’d hired a private coach to come to the penthouse rather than attending classes, but he never missed a session.
“I know. I’m not angry.” Seconds later, the doors opened and he held it for her, allowing her to step ahead of him. “Not at you.”
“Who, then?”
He led her down the hall and into the glass-walled office that had been his father’s. Willow must have sprinted ahead of them because they were dancing their fingers across their tablet, bringing up contacts on the big screen at one end of the room. Some revealed distracted faces, others only showed names. Fliss recognized a few as board members she’d already met.
“Two are unable to attend. Three have not responded. The rest are joining now,” Willow said, continuing to assemble the meeting.
“The board,” Saint explained with a nod.
“Oh. I didn’t mean to interrupt—” She looked to the door, but Saint took her hand and kept her beside him so they both showed in their own square on the screen.
“You’re live,” Willow said.
“Good. Thank you everyone for jumping onto this call so quickly,” Saint said.
“You said it was an emergency,” a gruff male voice said. “Is Ted—”
“I said it was urgent.” Saint looked to Willow, who nodded. “Dad’s been moved to long-term care and continues to improve each day. No, this is a decision that needed to be conveyed immediately so the board can respond in a timely manner. You’ve all met Felicity?”
“Hello.” Fliss gave a weak smile and wave.
“She is expecting and I plan to be with her at the birth. There. Not here. I am not my father, and I will not become him. I want to be Felicity’s husband and the father my child deserves. I’ll continue leading the charge on my project, but I am resigning as president.”
“Wait! What?” the chorus of voices blustered.
“Saint.” She clasped his hand in both of hers, shocked and so moved she could hardly breathe. She stared up at him, blinking eyes that welled with emotive tears. “You don’t have to do that for me,” she whispered.
“I’m doing it for us. All of us.” He nodded at her belly. “I’ll continue to head the development of my security project,” he said to the board, “but my family is my priority, and you need to know that.”
“Oh,” Fliss squeaked, ducking her head against his arm because she couldn’t believe he was doing this. And she was going to full on start crying in a second, which would be totally embarrassing.
“We’ll speak more in the next few days,” he told the board. “But I wanted to make you aware so you can start planning for my taking a step back. End the call and leave us, please, Willow.”
The on-screen grumbles went silent, and the glass walls tinted to opaque as Willow slipped out, possibly biting back a smug smile, but Fliss only had eyes for Saint.
“Are you sure?” she asked him.
