Hotshot (16 page)

“The same goes for you.”

“That’s why nothing will tear us apart. Ever.”

Shaw

I’m so focused up in my brilliant idea to move Bizzy into my place, I don’t even notice Gail’s not at her desk when I walk by. Instead, I breeze into my office, finishing my text conversation.

Me- I love you. Talk to your leasing office this morning or I’ll do it for you.

Bizzy- I’m not sure I said yes yet.

Me- It wasn’t a question.

Bizzy- You’re impossible. I’ll think about it.

Me- Start packing, or else I’ll hire someone to do it. I want you in as soon as possible. There is NO more waiting.

I chuckle at my clever use of words and spin my phone in my hand. Knowing her, she’s going to call in about thirty seconds full of sass. But for fuck’s sake, it’s been over six weeks since we returned from Tampa. I’ve been patient enough.

A strong lingering smell of perfume hits my nose, and I finally look up. My blood runs cold when my eyes land on Sasha Crane, sitting on my couch, looking at me with a nasty sneer.

“Well, isn’t someone chipper this morning?” Her voice grates on my nerves, and I fight to swallow the acid forming in my throat.

“What the fuck are you doing here? How’d you get in?”

She crosses her legs and sits back casually, taking in the office, avoiding my question.

“I asked, how the hell did you got into my office?”

Her eyes lock with mine, and my stomach turns. “You know what? I don’t give a shit! Get out. I want you gone.”

“I told you not to ignore me, Ren. I’ve been more than tolerant, but I’m done with that approach.”

“Surely you’re not this dense. Take the fucking hint. I don’t take your calls. I don’t accept your invitations. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Tsk, tsk… such harsh words from a man who holds no cards here. You’ll be changing your attitude very soon.”

“Not likely. Now, get out!”

Her face changes, the smug expression transforming into rage. “You son of a bitch, I’ve given you ample opportunity to come around on your own. I told you we would be good together. If you don’t change your tune really quick, I may rethink my generosity.”

My phone starts to ring, vibrating in my hand, and I see Bizzy’s smiling face on the screen. It infuriates me when I press the ignore button, knowing I need to get Sasha out of here and calm myself down before I talk to her.

“Go ahead and answer. I’ll wait,” Sasha dares me, seeing the disgust on my face.

“What do you want, Sasha? I’m one second away from calling security.”

“Fine.” She throws a hand in the air. “I’m pregnant.”

“Poor bastard,” slips from my lips and obviously louder than I meant.

Her glare turns hard, her lips forming a fine line as she turns a bright shade of red.

“Right now, I’d have to agree. You are a bastard.”

Her words take a minute to sink in, and I shake my head. “Are you implying I’m the father?”

“I’m not implying it. It’s a fact.”

“I fucked you months ago.”

She winces, her harsh façade slipping for a second then goes back in place. She reaches into her purse and gets up, coming face to face.

“Yes, as you so eloquently put it, you fucked me eight weeks ago. With the way biology works, I’m almost eleven weeks.” She waves the paper then shoves it in my chest before standing back.

I look down and see nothing except her information printed in the upper corner. “You’ve got to be shitting me. You give me a grainy picture and expect me to believe you’re carrying my child?”

“That’s not the only thing I expect.”

“Money? You want money?”

Her eyes grow wide, and I don’t move fast enough before her palm connects with my cheek. The sound ricochets around my office and happens right as Gail arrives at her desk. She has a horrified look, reaching for her phone. I jerk my head at her.

“How dare you insult me! I don’t want your Goddamn money. You’re lucky I’m giving you a shot at all. I don’t beg, Ren, ever! And these last few weeks, you’ve embarrassed the shit out of me.”

“I don’t see how, Sasha. We had a few nights together spread over months. I never led you on. I told you it was nothing. It was a mistake. All of it was a mistake.”

She takes a deep breath and cradles her stomach. “A mistake? Is that what you want me to tell your son or daughter one day? You referred to them as a mistake?”

I stumble back, letting the picture fall from my hand and grab the corner of my desk for support. My phone drops with a loud clang.

“This can’t be happening,” I say quietly, shock starting to set in.

“That’s what I thought, too, the first five pregnancy tests I took. Even when the doctor drew my blood, I was in denial. But it’s confirmed. I’m pregnant. And the baby is yours.”

It’s confirmed…

I’m pregnant…

The baby is yours…

The words roll around my head until my vision becomes spotty. I blink a few times, trying to find my wits and look back at her for any sign she’s lying.

“How do you know it’s mine?”

“Now you not only think I’m a gold digger but a fucking whore? Unlike you, I don’t sleep around. What we did actually meant something to me.”

“Jesus Christ.” I rub my free hand down my face. “This can’t be happening,” I repeat.

“It’s happening. So it’s time for you to man up. Like I said, I have some expectations.”

“Expectations?” My voice is weak and unguarded. I glance up in time to catch her triumphant grin.

“Yes, we’ll discuss them over dinner tomorrow night. You can pick me up at seven.”

I don’t really comprehend what she’s said for a few seconds, until it hits me. “Wait, do you…? Are you saying…? What…?” I take a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. Stumbling through my words is a surefire way to let her think she’s gotten the upper hand.

I clear my throat and stand straighter. “Do you think this changes things between us?”

“Hell yes, it changes things. I didn’t sign up for this, and I’m sure as hell not doing it alone.”

“I’m not having dinner with you.”

“You sure as fuck are, and that’s just the beginning. Dinners, dates, doctor’s appointments.”

“You think having a baby is going to change the way I feel about you?”

“Let’s put it this way. Either you take responsibility or I terminate the pregnancy. I’m not going to be the laughing stock of my peers, landing knocked up without a partner.”

I fist my palm tight, letting my nails dig into the skin as I bite my cheek, to make sure I am really standing here and not in some deranged nightmare.

“You’d abort your child because of your reputation in your firm?” I stare at her in disbelief.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake. Don’t act so self-righteous. You have no idea what it’s like.”

“Maybe I don’t, but let’s say you’re telling the truth and that is my baby. I have rights, too.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s my body.”

That’s when I know. She finally gives a tell. Whether or not this was the plan all along, she thinks she has me trapped. My lawyer mind finally kicks in, and I glare at her, crossing my arms. This woman is not going to trample all over me.

“I’ll be contacting my personal lawyer today. Once I speak with him and have a plan of action, one of us will contact you regarding a paternity test. Until then, I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d tread lightly, Sasha. If I find out you are telling the truth, and you do anything to hurt this child, your reputation is the last thing you’ll need to worry about.”

“Don’t threaten me, Ren. I’m not scared of you.”

Un-fucking-believable. So many snappy remarks pop into my head, but I have enough sense to keep my mouth shut. I walk to the door and open it, motioning it’s time for her to leave. She grabs her purse and storms past, anger radiating off her. She almost clears the area when she turns, walking back to Gail’s desk and dropping a business card.

“Gail, I presume?” She looks between Gail and me with a nasty scowl. “You’ll want to make sure he takes my calls and visits from now on. I’m not going to be shoved under the rug like a piece of trash.” She turns on her heel and stalks out.

Gail leaps up, coming into my office and shutting the door behind her. “She got in through the temp at the front. Angie is out sick today. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to intercept her.”

“It’s okay.” I fall down in my chair and run my hands through my hair. A headache starts to pound behind my eyelids.

Gail bends and places the fallen grainy photograph on my desk, but stays quiet, waiting for me to speak.

I can’t find the words because Sasha’s announcement keeps replaying. Suddenly, Bizzy’s face pops in my mind, along with the memory of our conversation last week about children. Her fear of not being able to conceive weighs heavily on her, and I vowed to spend the rest of my life proving to her that she was enough.

I’d thought about it long and hard, knowing I’d move mountains to have every specialist and professional in the world work with Bizzy to help her have our child. But in the end, if it didn’t happen, we’d adopt, and I’d be happy. Because the one thing I know I can’t live without is her.

Knowing there’s a chance that Sasha is pregnant will destroy Bizzy. Not only the fact that another woman is having my child, it’s Sasha.

The gravity of the situation starts to hit.

I break out in a cold sweat, imagining the look on Bizzy’s face and the devastation in her eyes. My stomach turns, and I drop to my knees, lurching for the trash bin. I stare at the black plastic until the wave passes and feel Gail put a damp cloth on the back of my neck.

“It’s going to be okay, Shaw. We’ll figure this out.”

I say a silent prayer, hoping she’s right.

Caldwell Banks has been a friend since law school and is probably one of the only men I’d trust with my situation right now. He’s only a year older, and like me, he’s built a solid reputation on his ability to get shit done.

Unlike me, he’s been with the same woman since college. He married her the month after we graduated law school and immediately started a family. Pictures clutter his office of his wife and children, and I pick one up as I sip my scotch.

“Leah never ages. Still beautiful,” I say, referring to his wife. “Not sure what she’s still doing with you.”

“Are you kidding? Look at me.” He points to himself and gives me his best smile.

“My point exactly.” I place the picture back on the corner of his desk.

“Ouch. Did you insist we meet immediately to insult me?”

“Nah, I need your advice. Tell me everything you know about paternity tests.”

He dives into his knowledge of what courts have ruled in the past and gives me a rundown of hypotheticals that I already know. Hell, my clients dodge pregnancy claims all the time. He’s helped me before. While he talks, I start pacing, listening close in case he tells me something I haven’t researched yet.

“Shaw, what’s really going on? Surely you know all these answers.”

“Yes, but this time it’s different. This time—” I throw back the rest of my drink and go to his sidebar to pour another. I need the liquid courage to even say it.

“This time, it’s me.”

He gives me a hard stare and, seeing my seriousness, lets out a low whistle. “Fuck me.”

“Not a chance. Fucking is what got me into this mess.”

“I assume by your expression and the way you’re sucking down scotch, this is a surprise?”

“Understatement of the year. If I had my way, I’d never see the woman again. As a matter of fact, that was my goal. Then she showed up unannounced at my office two days ago and dropped this bomb. According to her, there’s no doubt I am the father.”

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive, but how did this happen?”

“Don’t know. I’ve been asking myself that same exact thing for the last fifty-five hours. I was shit-faced, but I know I wore a condom. There was evidence of it the next morning. To be honest, I don’t remember anything about it.”

“Damn, man, I’m sorry. What can I do?”

“You can represent me. Be my go-between. I’m going to demand a paternity test, but this is going to get ugly. Really ugly. I need everything by the book.”

“Of course, but can’t you talk to her? If she was a one-time thing, this has to come as a surprise to her as well.”