Stuck-Up Suit

by Vi Keeland

  “Ever since he started seeing you, he’s been different. Nicer. Easier to deal with. I don’t know if you have a magical vagina or what…but whatever it is you do, keep on doing it. You’ve made all of our lives a whole lot easier.”

  Some of the people sitting in nearby cubicles overheard her. One started clapping, and a few others followed. Standing there with my greasy paper bag, I was being applauded by these people.

  Was I supposed to bow?

  Graham must have overheard the commotion because his office door opened.

  “What the hell is—” The frown on his face softened when he saw me. “Soraya.” He smiled. “Did I miss something here? Why are they clapping?”

  I looked back at the employees and winked. “I was just telling them a joke.”

  “I see. Well, why don’t you move your one-woman show into my office then?”

  The door shut behind us, and Graham backed me up against it, planting a firm kiss on my lips then said, “Everyone’s crazy about you…just like me. This was a damn nice surprise.”

  “I didn’t want you to go through this alone.”

  He placed his forehead on mine. “You know…I really wanted you here. But at the same time, I wasn’t sure if it would make you uncomfortable. I didn’t want to pressure you, but I’m so glad you came.”

  “Well, I have a feeling I’m going to need to practice dealing with discomfort.”

  He cupped my cheeks. “Let’s just take one day at a time. Can you do that for me?”

  Nodding against his hands, I said, “I’ll try.”

  We sat together eating our bagels for the next half-hour. Graham had his feet up on his desk and looked more relaxed than I anticipated. Through his office windows, the sun was shining, reflecting into his eyes that were glowing as he watched me eat. He seemed to be doing very well considering.

  “You seem okay. You’re not scared to get the call?”

  “You know what? I was honestly feeling sick to my stomach until you got here. Knowing that you’re here for me no matter what truly makes all the difference.”

  “I’m glad I could make it better.”

  “You make everything in my life better, baby. Everything.”

  He reached across the desk and grabbed my hand, gently placing a kiss on my knuckles. The sound of his intercom interrupted our moment.

  “Mr. Morgan? Ms. Moreau is here. She didn’t have an appointment but is insisting that I let you know she’s here anyway. She says you’ll know what it’s in regards to.”

  My stomach felt unsettled as I withdrew my hand from his. “Genevieve is here?”

  He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples in frustration. “Fuck. I told her I didn’t want her to come for the results. I should’ve known that she wouldn’t listen.”

  “Well, you can’t exactly kick her out.”

  “Sure, I can.”

  “Believe me, I would love it if you kicked her to the curb right now, but how is that going to make things any easier if you find out Chloe is yours? You’re going to have to deal with her whether you like it or not. The sooner you learn how, the better.”

  Deep in thought, he nodded to himself for a while. “You’re right.” Pressing the button, he said, “Send her in.”

  Our relaxing breakfast was officially over.

  I threw away our food wrappers to distract myself from the jitters creeping in.

  The door opened, and Genevieve entered the office, quietly closing the door behind her. She was dressed conservatively, wearing a gray pencil skirt and a cream-colored, sleeveless blouse that showed off her toned arms. Her scent was familiar—Chanel No. 5. It dawned on me that she was built a lot like the television host, Kelly Ripa—petite and svelte. She actually resembled her a bit.

  Graham didn’t even look over at her. He stayed silent, fidgeting with his watch, a nervous habit that until now, I almost thought he’d completely done away with.

  Genevieve made eye contact with me first. “Soreena, I didn’t realize you would be here.”

  “It’s Soraya. And, yes, I’m here to support Graham when the results come in.”

  She took a seat. “So…you know everything.”

  “Yes. He and I don’t keep anything from each other.”

  “Well, that’s nice of you to be here for him.”

  Graham finally spoke to her. “I thought we discussed the fact that I preferred you not come here today.”

  “I need to be here, Graham. I’m sure you’ve given Syreeta an earful about what a bad person I am, but I’m here today to support you, too.”

  Graham’s tone was stern. “It’s Soraya. Not Soreena. Not Syreeta. So-RAH-ya. What is so hard about that?”

  “Soraya….Soraya…sorry…I’m a bit nervous myself, okay? I didn’t come here to make trouble. I’m just trying to be supportive as well. I realize that this whole situation is all my fault. I’m not denying that, but I can’t change the past. I’m just trying to make things right moving forward. If I have to spend the rest of my life making up for it, I will.” She looked like she was about to cry. Either she was truly upset, or she deserved an Academy Award. Graham remained unaffected by her mini breakdown.

  Several minutes of awkward silence ensued as Graham went from fiddling with his watch to twirling the ends of a pen between his two index fingers.

  He tossed it across the room and grumbled, “What the hell is taking them so long?”

  Genevieve was trying her best to lighten the mood and looked down at my feet. “I like your shoes. What brand are they?”

  “Michael Kors. They’re not Louboutins or anything, but I like them. They’re comfortable for wedges.”

  She smiled. “I like them, too.”

  Graham rolled his chair back and got up. He started to pace and seemed to be losing his cool, so I attempted to calm him down. “They said before noon, right? Well, there’s still a little time.”

  He took out his phone. “I’m calling the lab.” He put it on speaker.

  A woman answered, “Culver Laboratories?”

  “Yes. This is Graham Morgan. I was supposed to be getting a call before noon today with the results of a paternity test your lab conducted for me this week. We’re three minutes away from the deadline. I’d like my results now, please. Arnold Schwartz indicated that he would oversee everything personally to ensure those results would be in by this morning. I have a special reference number he gave me if you need it.”

  “Yes, sir. That would be helpful.”

  As Graham gave her the information, I said a silent prayer that by some miracle, it turned out he wasn’t the father. I wasn’t sure if that made me a bad person or what. Until those results came in, there was still hope as far as I was concerned. What if there was a third man we didn’t know about…one who was darker like Graham, maybe resembled him? Anything was possible, right?

  The clicking of a keyboard could be heard in the background as the woman retrieved the information. “I’m going to put you on hold, Mr. Morgan. It seems that the results are in, but when they indicated that someone would call you to read them, they were apparently basing it on Pacific Time. But I do show here in the system that the test has been completed. I just need to see if we have authorized personnel available to give you those results.”

  He whispered under his breath, “Jesus Christ.”

  These people on the West Coast had no idea how much was riding on this. If they did, they’d surely hurry the hell up.

  Genevieve exhaled and looked over at me. “This is very nerve-wracking.”

  I didn’t know why she was making an attempt to talk to me. In any case, I was too worked up to respond. I turned my attention toward Graham. The relaxed demeanor from earlier was like a distant memory. He looked so worried. I think a part of him wanted Chloe to be his while another part was terrified for the opposite scenario, one where a little girl he had imagined as his own was left fatherless.

  My insides felt like they were twisting, and I wondered if this was what ha
ppened when you truly loved someone, that you could physically feel that person’s fear. His fear was mine. His pain was mine. His life had now merged with my own. I hadn’t told him I loved him, but as I sat there feeling like my entire future depended on the next few minutes, I came to the conclusion that this had to be the real thing.

  I loved Graham J. Morgan. Mr. Big Prick. Stuck-up Suit. Celibate in Manhattan. Fifty Shades of Morgan. I loved them all. I loved that he appreciated all of my idiosyncrasies. I loved that he protected me. I loved that he made me feel for the first time in my life like I was the most important person to someone—to him. The thing was, depending on these results, I would no longer be the most important thing. His daughter would and should always come first. That was the way it was supposed to be. That was what Frank Venedetta never understood.

  A man’s voice came on the speaker. “Mr. Morgan? Thank you for holding, This is Brad. I’m one of the lab managers. I apologize for the delay. I have your results.”

  Graham swallowed hard. “Alright…”

  “There is, at least, a 99.9 percent probability that you are a match. These results are conclusive to prove paternity.”

  He took his palm to his mouth and let out a long, slow breath into his hand.

  The man continued, “We’ll be FedExing your hard copy lab results today. You should receive them tomorrow. Again, I apologize for the delay.”

  Genevieve covered her face and started to cry.

  “Thank you,” Graham simply said. He hung up the phone and looked straight into my eyes.

  Trying to stay composed, I just kept nodding my head over and over in an attempt to convince him and myself that things were going to be alright.

  “It’s okay,” I silently mouthed.

  Deep down, I was far from sure of that. I knew I loved him. That was all I knew anymore. I just hoped that would be enough.

  CHAPTER 20

  GRAHAM

  GENEVIEVE’S THREE-STORY BROWNSTONE was only about a mile from my condo on the Upper West Side.

  I stood in front of the brick structure and lingered for a bit before entering. Once I officially met Chloe, there would be no going back.

  I was a father now. It still felt like a foreign concept.

  Genevieve and I had agreed that this first meeting would be a casual dinner. She would introduce me as a family friend. We would play it by ear, and when the time was right, it would be explained to Chloe that she actually has two fathers, one in heaven and one on Earth. Over time, when Chloe was comfortable with the idea, we would develop a fair custody arrangement. Genevieve was lucky that she’d decided to make this easy for me. Otherwise she would have had one hell of a fight on her hands.

  I had badly wanted Soraya here with me tonight, but it made more sense for me to get to know my daughter one on one first before introducing any more new people into her life. Chloe had just lost the only father she’d ever known. She was still extremely fragile.

  A wreath made up of branches and berries hung on the red door. Ringing the bell, I took a deep breath in before the door opened.

  Genevieve smiled and nudged her head. “Come in, Graham.”

  Everything inside was either stark white, silver or gray. The décor was a lot like my own place, sleek and modern. It reminded me of just how much my taste had changed. I was much more into things of the colorful variety lately. Bright, bold colors.

  The scent of aromatic spices filled the air, prompting me to ask, “What is that I smell?”

  “Remember that homemade pad thai I used to make you? It was always your favorite. That’s what you smell. I made it for dinner tonight.”

  I had to bite my tongue to keep myself from reminding her that I didn’t remember much that happened before catching her blowing Liam. This was not the night for my typical jabs, though.

  “Thank you. That was thoughtful.”

  “I just want you to feel comfortable here.”

  The only thing making me uncomfortable was Genevieve trying to play happy homemaker.

  “Where is she?”

  “Chloe is playing in her room. I figured it would be better to just let her come out and find you here naturally, rather than introduce you right off the bat. I don’t want her to be suspicious.”

  Suspicious that her mother is a lying cheat who’s withheld her actual father from her since the day she was born?

  “Whatever you think is best. You know her better than I do. That’s not by my choice, of course.”

  “I know.” Genevieve cleared her throat and walked toward the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Water will be fine with dinner, nothing for now.” I took a seat in the living room, which was adjacent to the kitchen.

  “Are you sure? I have cognac…merlot…”

  Holding out my palm, I said, “I’m not going to be drinking tonight.”

  “Okay…just let me know if you change your mind.”

  “I know you,” a sweet little voice said.

  I turned around to find Chloe standing there. Her thick mane of long, brown hair covered half of her face. She was wearing adorable pink-footed pajamas and holding a teddy bear.

  My mouth curved into a smile as I got up from my seat. “You know me?”

  “You found my barrette…at Daddy’s party.”

  That’s right. I’d picked up the pom pom thing that fell out of her hair at Liam’s wake.

  I knelt down in front of her. “You’re a smart cookie.”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Graham.”

  “Like Graham Cracker?”

  “Yes. I suppose.”

  “You’re a smart cracker!”

  I chuckled. “You’re very funny, Chloe.”

  Genevieve interjected, “Chloe…Graham is a friend of Daddy and Mommy’s. He’s joining us for dinner tonight.”

  “Did you know my Daddy died?”

  “Yes. I’m very sorry for you. I know he loved you very much.”

  She walked over to the end table and picked up a framed picture, bringing it over to me. In the snapshot, Liam was looking lovingly over at her as autumn leaves fell around them. There was no doubt that he adored her. I wanted to feel bitter, but seeing the smile on her face in the photo made that impossible.

  “That’s a really great photo of the two of you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Struggling with what to say to her next, I asked, “Do you always wear pajamas this early?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “They look very comfy. I wish they made those in my size.”

  She scrunched her little nose. “That would be silly.”

  “Yes. I suppose it would be.”

  She handed me her teddy bear and said, “Look! Teddy Grahams…like the little cookies.” Then she started to belly laugh.

  I laughed because she was laughing. “Clever.”

  “Dinner is ready!” Genevieve called out from the kitchen. She’d set up the dining room table. A large, white, rectangular platter was filled with the rice noodles and veggies she’d made. A plate of chicken nuggets and mixed vegetables was placed in front of what I assumed was Chloe’s seat. The Dora the Explorer placemat was a dead giveaway.

  “Graham, you said you just want water?” Genevieve asked.

  “That’s right.”

  “Chloe, you want your usual strawberry milk?”

  Strawberry milk?

  No way.

  I turned to Chloe. “Strawberry milk? I love strawberry milk.”

  “That’s my favorite.”

  “What kind?”

  “Quik,” she said.

  I’d never had Nesquik milk in front of Genevieve. So, she had no idea what a crazy coincidence this was.

  “That’s wild. That’s my favorite drink in the whole wide world, too.” I turned to Genevieve. “Can I change my request to strawberry milk, as well?”

  “Of course.” Genevieve seemed amused.

  In my daughter’s
presence, I would for the first time in my adult life drink Nesquik milk openly and shamelessly. I’d come out of the strawberry milk closet.

  Chloe turned to her mother. “You have to give him a crazy straw.”

  “Oh, I don’t think he wants one.”

  For Chloe’s benefit, I looked at Genevieve like she was crazy for thinking I wouldn’t. “Of course I do!”

  Genevieve shook her head then placed a long, pink swirly straw in front of me. Chloe got a real kick out of watching me drink from it.

  “You know, Chloe, I never realized how much better this milk tastes when you drink it from a crazy straw.”

  “I know!” she squealed.

  The joy in her eyes was palpable. I could get used to this. It made me feel so good that the mere sight of a big lug like me doing childish things could put a much-needed smile on her face. This little girl had just been through a traumatic loss, but she was well-adjusted and loved by her mother. I had to, at least, give Genevieve that. She seemed to be a very good mother.

  Throughout dinner, Chloe enjoyed watching me slurp my noodles. I would do it cross-eyed just to make her laugh again and again. Genevieve stayed quiet but observant, often resting her chin in her hand as she watched us. She was taking a step back, allowing Chloe and I to bond.

  After dinner, Genevieve made Chloe wash her hands and brush her teeth. I wasn’t sure what the rest of the evening held until Chloe came up behind me again and asked, “Are you sleeping over?”

  “No. No, I’m not. But I’ll stay a while. What’s next on the agenda?”

  “The what?”

  I had to learn to make my language more kid-friendly.

  “What do you like to play after dinner?”

  “Dress up.”

  “Dress up?”

  “Yes.”

  “What does that entail?”

  “No tails. Dresses.”

  I chuckled. “Dresses?”

  “Yes.” Then she ran away, presumably to go fetch something.

  I looked over at Genevieve as if she needed to translate all of this for me. “Dresses?”

  “Chloe has a chest full of princess dresses and other costumes in her room. She likes to put them on over her pajamas and spin around in them until she tires. It’s sort of a bedtime ritual.”