Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“Fran—”
“I’m pregnant,” she cuts me off, then lifts her wide eyes to mine. “Oh… God.”
“Pardon?” I ask, sure I misheard her.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to just blurt it out like that. I’ve just been so scared to tell you, and I know that we don’t really know each other.” She lifts her hands toward me. “I’m not trying to trap you. I promise I’m totally okay with you not being involved… or being involved. It’s up to you. Totally up to you. I just wanted you to know because—”
“It’s not mine.” The statement sounds harsh to my own ears, and her lips part.
“What?”
“It’s not mine,” I say a little more calmly.
“It is, Dayton. I wouldn’t lie about something like this.” The conviction in her tone gives me pause, but I carry on.
“I had a vasectomy years ago, Francisca, so I know for certain that I’m not the father. You need to figure out who else you were with.”
“You had a vasectomy?” Her brows drag together.
“Yes.”
“Why?” Her eyes wander over my face, and I know what she sees—a man in his prime, likely around the age where he’d start looking for a partner to settle down and start a family with.
But that man is not me.
“Because I don’t want children.” The statement echoes through the room before sliding into place between us like a brick wall.
“Oh.” She swallows, dropping her gaze from mine.
“Fran—”
“You know what?” she interrupts as she pushes up to stand, her movements jerky. “You’re probably right. I probably just got my dates all messed up. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Fran—” I move to my feet as she stumbles on the way to the door.
“I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“Francisca.”
“Just forget I was here.” She rushes out of my office, leaving me staring at the empty doorway.
What the fuck?
Rubbing my hands down my face, I attempt to dissect the emotions running rampant through my system. But I can’t. There are too many.
“Is everything okay?” Dropping my hands from my face, I look at Jamie.
“Everything’s fine.” I move to my desk and start gathering all my things.
“Are you leaving?” she asks, coming too fucking close.
“Yes, you can leave early, too, if you don’t have anything to do.”
“Are you sure you’re okay? That sounded pretty intense.” Did she overhear that conversation? My head comes up, and my eyes lock on hers. She must see something in my gaze because she looks away. “Sorry.”
“Goodnight, Jamie.” Stepping around her, I leave her in my office and head down the hall and out the front door of the building. As I’m starting the engine of my SUV a few minutes later, my cell starts to ring, and Billy’s name pops up on the screen.
Cricking my neck, I press accept on the call. “Billy.”
“Dayton, how’s it going?”
“All right. Just leaving the office. What’s up?”
“Did Mary talk to you?”
“She did.” I back out of my parking space.
“How do you feel about the case?”
“I haven’t had a chance to go over everything yet, but I plan on spending the weekend looking into it.”
“Good, that’s good.” He goes quiet, and I frown at the dash when I see his call is still connected.
“Did you need anything else?”
“I have a favor to ask.”
“Shoot,” I mutter, hoping like fuck his favor has nothing to do with Jamie. With the mood I’m in, I’m liable to tell him to fuck off.
“Tomorrow, there is a charity golf game, and my son can’t make it. Do you have any plans?”
“What time?”
“It starts at eight. I know this is last minute, but you’d be doing me a favor. Not to mention, it’s for a good cause.”
In any other reality, I’d say no, but I can’t in this one. Saying no to my boss just isn’t an option.
“Sure, I can do that.”
“All right, I’ll send you the details and see you in the morning.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.”
“You too.” He hangs up, and I head toward home, scanning the street for Francisca. Of course, I don’t see her. I never do.
When I get into the building, I don’t go to my apartment. I head up to my brother’s place on the top floor. I need a beer and someone to talk to. As I reach his door, I don’t use my key to let myself in like I would have before he got married. Instead, I knock and wait, loosening my tie, that feels like it’s strangling me.
“Dayton,” Willow answers the door with my nephew Rowen on her hip.
“Hey, is Clay here?” I take Rowen when he reaches for me and hold him against my chest.
“He is.” Her eyes wander over my face. “Is everything okay?”
“Just need to talk to him.”
“Sure,” she says quietly. “He’s in the office.”
“Thanks.” I move past her and head down the hall to his office, with Rowen kicking his legs and jabbering nonsense that I’m sure makes perfect sense to him.