Chapter 2 #2
Lab Coat jumps in for this one. “In cases like this, near the start of the second trimester, prenatal paternity testing is ordinarily a simple procedure requiring a maternal blood test and a cheek swab from the potential father. However, in the case of a multiple pregnancy, the free-floating DNA from both fetuses in the mother’s bloodstream makes establishing paternity prenatally impos—”
“Pregnant?” Whipping my head to the right, I lock eyes with Hazel. “You’re pregnant. With multip—with twins?”
Clenching her jaw, she nods once. “Yes.”
“Twins.” My mom is a twin, and so was her grandma. “My twins?”
Hazel’s jaw tightens. “Mine.”
I’m a little too mind-whacked to nitpick biology, but I can’t let that pass. “Unless we’re talking artificial insemination or immaculate conception, there’s a reason you called me in here today.”
Holy shit.
I’m going to be a dad?
Hazel’s lips flatten into a thin, pale line, but at least she’s meeting my gaze now.
Her blue eyes look shiny and cool, but I notice the tremble in her lip.
“I’d like to keep this quiet and simple,” she says primly.
“We’ve taken care of all arrangements to ensure there’s no need for you to be involved at all. ”
I can’t process the words coming out of her mouth. My knees feel like putty and my mouth tastes like gravel. “You’re having my child. Children.” Holy shit. “We made babies?”
I dart a glance at her middle and watch her hand leap to her belly. She’s blocking my view, or maybe she’s cradling the still-baking buns in her oven. Our buns.
Holy shit.
My mouth hinges open to say—who knows what?
Because Perky-Cool Smile jumps in like a referee.
“Given Ms. Spencer’s high-profile status, we’re taking precautions to ensure the discussions that occur in this room remain confidential.
” She’s clenching her teeth as she smiles, which looks weird.
“You’ll find an NDA in your packet, and we’re prepared to offer you a generous—”
“Discussions?” Glancing from Pinstripes to Lab Coat to Hazel, I replay that word in my head. “This is your idea of a discussion?”
Pinstripes bristles. “Mr. Lovelin—”
“Get out.”
Her jaw hinges open. “I beg your pardon?”
“All of you—out. Now. Please.” I add that last word as an afterthought, though I honestly don’t feel like being polite.
“Everyone who wasn’t involved in creating this pregnancy—which I’m just now learning about, by the way—needs to get out of this room right fucking now so I can have a word with Hazel alone. Hazel?”
I lock eyes with her, hoping she’ll hear me out.
“You’ve obviously known about this longer than I have, and I’m sorry you’ve had to face it by yourself.
The thought of you feeling scared and alone breaks my goddamn heart, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.
But you need to know I’m not signing a damn thing until you and I talk one on one. ”
Her face reddens as she chews on her lip. Before she can answer, Pinstripes pipes up. “That’s completely unnecess—”
“All right.” Hazel presses her palms to the table, then turns to the women surrounding her. “Please give us a moment?”
Pinstripes glares like I’ve sideswiped her car. Perky-Cool stands up and gathers her things, glancing around like she’s checking for cameras. Only Lab Coat hesitates, bending her head toward Hazel’s. Reddish-brown curls fall over her face as she whispers something I can’t make out.
Hazel nods once as her eyes start to shimmer. “I’m okay,” she says softly, glancing at me. “He might be a hothead, but I’m safe with him.”
I’m safe with him.
Those words—not even meant for my ears—fill me with a feeling I can’t name.
It’s like warm cake batter oozing through my chest cavity.
As the women file past, I move to the head of the table.
I look at the packet they asked me to read and instantly hate every word of it.
I don’t even have to open it to know that.
Leaving the packet, I round the table and approach Hazel.
I sit down beside her, breathing the scent of roses and sandalwood and maybe a faint whiff of oranges.
She leans away but doesn’t order me back to my place.
Swiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she watches the conference room door click shut.
And now we’re alone with the rain drumming softly on the red cedar deck stretching over the lake.
A jittery clock with shiny brass hands ticks on the wall near the head of the table.
Hazel sniffles, not meeting my eyes. There’s a big box of tissues back at the head of the table, but I’m not getting up to retrieve them.
“You okay?” I dig in my pocket and come up with a hankie I’m hoping is clean.
Hazel waves it away, sitting up straighter in her chair. “I’m fine.”
“Who the hell were all those people?” I bite back the question I’d rather ask, which is, ‘Why did they know you were pregnant before I did?’
Hazel hears it anyway. “I panicked when I found out last week.” She’s not meeting my eyes as she says it, her gaze drifting over the lake.
“I texted Molly first. Dr. Moses—she’s an old friend, and I knew I could trust her to outline my options in confidence.
” Drawing breath, she continues. “Nova Adison is an attorney who handles my family’s most sensitive legal matters, and Remi Rae is a PR professional specializing in content suppression and redirection. ”
So I guessed right on the PR thing. Also— “What the fuck is content suppression and redirection?” Never mind. “You thought I’d go nuts and make a public spectacle?”
“I—I didn’t know what to expect.” Biting her lip, she looks down at the table. “I might not have handled this very well.”
“You think?” Shit, that sounds mean. “Look, I get that you got some life-changing news you didn’t expect. It happens. Surprises and fear don’t bring out anyone’s best.”
She stares without speaking, those liquid blue eyes searching my face like I’m a wild ape turned loose in her conference room. I keep talking to fill up the silence.
“I get it, you’re reeling. When the judge handed down my sentence, I broke out bawling like a big man-baby. Started yelling for my mom, sobbing on my sister’s shoulder when she tried to help the bailiff drag my sorry ass out of the courtroom.”
Hazel blinks. “Did you just compare prison to having a baby?”
Shit. “I was comparing the surprise of—”
“Because this is precisely why I’d decided to do this alone.” She straightens in her chair like somebody poured liquid steel down her spine. “I’m having these babies, Luke. That’s my decision, and I’ve mapped out a plan so we won’t need to entangle our lives in any way, shape, or form.”
“Seriously?” Now I’m annoyed again. “You think having a child—two children; two actual humans who share my DNA—would be something I could just ignore? That I’d sign away my rights with no question? Is that how you thought this would go down, Hazel?”
That earns me another long blink. “I—well, yes.” Her throat bobs as she swallows. “That is what I’d hoped.”
Well now I’m really annoyed. “We don’t always get what we want, do we?”
Her icy eyes blaze. “This isn’t your decision.”
“Whether you carry the pregnancy to term? You’re right, it’s not.” I’m no legal expert, but I’m pretty sure this next part’s true. “If you’re having these babies, I get a chance to say how much I’m involved. And I want to be involved.”
Hazel’s jaw clenches. “Don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Huh?
“Hayley Nixon,” she supplies. “You went together to Maxine and Samantha’s wedding. An overnight wedding, staying in the same roo—”
“You’ve been stalking me?” I know for a fact Hazel wasn’t at that wedding. “That was months ago, and we dated just a few times. We didn’t even sleep together, in case you’re asking.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Okay then.” That was a weird turn. “I want to be a dad to these babies.”
“I—but—you can’t—” She stops herself there, regaining her bearings. “This wasn’t the plan.”
“Neither was pregnancy, I’m guessing.” The look on her face confirms it. “Look, life’s thrown both of us enough curveballs to prove we rarely get the perfect fucking picture in our heads.”
Her nostrils flare as her fingers curl into her palm. “This isn’t what I want.”
“Being shut out of my kids’ lives isn’t what I want.” Goddammit, she needs to hear this. “My father walked out when I was five years old. Do you have any idea how much it sucks to grow up without a dad? No way am I doing that to my own kids.”
“I—” Some of the ice water leaks from her voice. “I’m sorry to hear it. I didn’t know that about your father.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t know much about him, period. Just that he liked the Seattle Seahawks and sarsaparilla soda.”
“And the letter S, apparently.”
I snort. “Yeah, I guess so. Oh, and he also collected vintage Hot Wheels.”
Hazel wrinkles her nose. “Is that some kind of sportscar?”
“Yeah.” Good God, we come from different worlds. “Toy cars. Tiny die-cast ones. My old man had tons, and my only clear memory of the dickhead is him promising me I could play with them when I got older.”
Her eyes spark with interest. “Did you?”
“No. He split town before that. Two months later, Mom saw all the Hot Wheels stuff in a pawn shop.”
Hazel blinks. “Did your mom buy it back?”
“She was a broke single mother,” I mutter. “What do you think?”
The mention of single motherhood sparks something in Hazel. She seems to recall what we’re doing here. Straightening in her chair, she clears her throat. “If this is about money, I promise I’ll never come after you for child support. If you look at page six in your packet—”
“Fuck the packet.” Now I’m pissed again. “I’m not signing away my own children. And I don’t give a fuck about the money.”