“I was afraid you’d say that. Tell me the ramifications if we don’t.”
“If she doesn’t do the test, he could argue she is continuing to withhold information. He could argue she is trying to keep him from the unborn child. He could sue her, and maybe even you, for more pain and suffering. In addition, as the potential father, he has every right to try and gain access to medical records associated with the pregnancy. Tests. Ultrasounds. Due dates. Whatever.
“Not that it’ll be easy for him,” he says. “He’ll have to get a judge to sign an order. But if his attorney is good, he’ll know exactly who to use for an order like that.”
“Shit.” I rest my elbows on my knees and stare at the carpet.
“Ethan, be straight with me. What are the chances he’s the father?”
I blow out a deep sigh into the phone. “About fifty-fifty.”
“Whoa,” he says. “That’s a little too close for comfort.”
“Tell me about it.”
“You said she’s your fiancée, so I’m assuming you love her and you really want this child, am I right?”
“It goes without saying.”
“I think the lesser of two evils is to wait on the test until after the baby is born.”
“And let him have access to her records?” I argue.
“Yes. Think about it, Ethan. If the test comes back showing him as the likely father, he’ll have more ammunition, more rights, more reason to be in your life. Right now, he’s just a potential father.”
“Okay, so we hold off on the test. What else can we do?”
“It’s what you shouldn’t do,” he warns.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Do not try to pay this guy off. I mean it, Ethan. As your attorney, I know almost as much about your finances as your accountant does. I know how easy it would be for you to write a check and try to make this all go away. I know you must be pissed and hurt and wanting to protect what’s yours. But that is the worst thing you could do. Even if he comes to you, he could later say you were the one who tried to bribe him. And even if you did come to a financial arrangement, if he is the biological father, he can still veto the adoption up to six months after the baby is born.”
“So I could pay him off and he could still end up having parental rights?”
“Exactly,” he says.
“Fuck!” I yell, punching my fist into the bed. “So he’s got us by the balls.”
Charlie comes out of the closet and sees me on the phone. She sits next to me on the bed and takes my hand.
“John, I have to go. Charlie and I have to talk about this. I’ll get back with you tomorrow. Thanks a lot for getting on this so quickly.”
“Anytime, Ethan. Good luck.”
It’ll take a hell of a lot more than luck to hold me back if I ever come face to face with this asshole. It’ll take a fucking miracle.
Chapter Forty
It only took the bastard two days to get an order allowing him access to any pregnancy-related medical records. Since then, it’s been a week without any further word from Thompson or his cronies. But I know better. He’s scum. A bottom dweller. He will sit back and attack when he knows it’ll hurt her the most.
It makes me sick to think about the kind of man he is. When I read his background report a few days ago, everything I thought about him was confirmed. He’s been arrested on several charges of fraud and identity theft. He was once arrested for scamming an elderly lady out of thousands of dollars, but the charges were dropped because she passed away and her surviving children decided not to pursue it. He’s spent a few nights in jail here and there, but for the most part, his punishments consisted of financial retribution or community service. It seems there isn’t anything this guy wouldn’t do for money.
That’s the very reason I made sure Levi came with us today. He’s sitting in the lobby of the building, ready to intervene if anything should happen. I don’t know what to expect from the dirt bag and we need to be prepared for anything.
Charlie has been tense all week. She hasn’t been eating right or sleeping well. The stress of this is really taking a toll on her. And the only reason I’ve not insisted she quit her job at Mitchell’s immediately is that work is one of the only things that seems to distract her. However, I insisted on hiring private security to sit outside the restaurant in case Zach Thompson decides to make an appearance. She didn’t fight me on it. She was grateful I discussed it with her before actually doing it. She’s come to accept the fact I will do anything to protect her and the baby.
As we approach the doctor’s office, I grab her hand. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”
There is a window into the reception area and we look through it before opening the door. It doesn’t take us long to spot the only man sitting by himself. The man who looks like he’d rather be anywhere but in a reception area with pregnant women and babies. He’s going through a pile of magazines, shaking his head when he can’t find one to suit him. A baby starts to cry and we can hear its high-pitched wail through the glass. Zach looks at it with disgust and puts his earbuds in.
“Oh my God,” Charlie says, moving away from the window and backing up against the wall. “We should leave. We should change doctors.”
I shake my head. “He’ll use it against us, Charlie. And he will still be able to get access to your records. Dr. Chavis’s office knows what’s going on. I called them earlier to prepare them for the possibility of him being here. They assured me that if he was here, they wouldn’t make us sit in reception. As soon as we check in, we’ll be allowed through to the back.”
She looks up at me with appreciation. “You did that?”
“Of course I did.”
Before we go in, I send Levi a text letting him know Zach is here and to stand by. Levi is carrying, so he can’t come into the medical building because of the metal detectors. Luckily for us, the doctor Skylar set Charlie up with has some very high-end clients. Famous athletes, celebrities, wives of Wall Street moguls. Security is high in this building. For which I’m grateful. Still—doesn’t mean I don’t want to have my own guy.
“We’ve got this,” I say. We lock eyes, and for five whole seconds, I make sure she sees how much love I have for her and this baby.
She nods and I open the door. I stare the asshole down as we make our way to the reception desk. I tell the young lady behind the counter, “I’m Ethan Stone and this is Charlie Tate. We have an appointment with Dr. Chavis. I called earlier and we need to be taken in the back right away.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone, I’ve been waiting for you. I’ll buzz you back immediately.” She points to the door on her left. “Please come on through.”
“Want to make it a threesome?” I hear behind me.
I turn around and face him, wanting in the very depths of my soul to punch the smirk off his snide little face. I see we have an audience, as he didn’t even attempt to lower his voice as he baited us.
“Do you want me to call security, Mr. Stone?” the girl behind the desk asks.
I shake my head. “Not unless he tries to follow us into the back,” I say, looking directly at him. I gently push Charlie through the door and pull it closed behind me.
We are escorted into Dr. Chavis’s office and told to wait here while she finishes up with another patient.
I hear Charlie breathe when she sits down. I think it’s the first breath she’s drawn in minutes. I reach my hand over, pulling hers into my lap. “That was the worst of it. He just wants to intimidate us, you know. He’ll either be gone by the time we leave, or he’ll demand to see your records at the front desk. Either way, we shouldn’t have to deal with him. Okay, Peaches?”
Her face breaks out into a smile right before she mimics sticking a finger down her throat.
“No?” I laugh. She shakes her head laughing. Mission accomplished.
Dr. Chavis walks in and closes the door. She greets us and sits behind her desk. “So I hear your lives have gotten a lot more complicated.”<
br />
“To put it mildly,” Charlie says.
“If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” she says.
“Thank you,” I say. “That means a lot to us. The man who is filing suit against her is a scam artist. He’s using this baby as leverage. We’ll take all the help we can get.”
Dr. Chavis nods and makes a few notes in Charlie’s chart. “I want to assure you both that Charlie and this baby are our top priorities here. We will comply with the order to release medical information, but rest assured, it will be the bare minimum. Have you thought any more about the paternity tests we discussed?”
I squeeze Charlie’s hand. “We’ve decided against that until the baby comes. We don’t want to risk him having any more access than he already does.”
“I understand,” Dr. Chavis says. “Well, I’ll have a nurse take you back and gown you. We’ll do an ultrasound today to get a good look at the baby’s heart.”
“Heart?” Charlie asks.
“It’s standard procedure around this time. Also, if he or she cooperates, I should be able to tell you the baby’s sex, so think about whether or not you’d like to know that.” She stands up and leads us to the door. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”
A nurse has me wait outside while Charlie changes. Then she takes her vitals and situates Charlie on a table before she wheels in the ultrasound machine. “The doctor will be in soon,” she says, leaving us alone in the room.
“We’ve never really talked about it, have we?” Charlie asks. “In the thousands of hours we’ve spent talking, we’ve managed to completely avoid this one topic.”
“What topic?”
“Whether the baby is a boy or a girl,” she says. “Do you think you’d be upset if it’s a girl?”
“Upset? Why would you say that? I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl as long as it’s healthy.”
“I just thought you might want a boy is all.” She gives her belly a rub. “You know, because a girl might remind you of Cat.”
I give her a sad smile. “Charlie, any baby will remind me of Cat. Every time I look at our child, girl or boy, I’ll think of her. But that’s okay. I loved her very much. I like to think about her.”
“What if I’m the one who doesn’t want a girl?” she asks, guilt washing over her beautiful features.
I feel my forehead crinkle as my eyes question her.
“I mean, I love little girls,” she says. “Hailey and Jordan are wonderful. But, I’m just not sure I want one. Look at what happened to me. To Piper. What if that happens to our child? The Mitchells loved their daughters more than any parents I’ve ever seen, yet they couldn’t protect Piper. I don’t know if I could take it, Ethan. It would kill me.”
“The odds of that happening are—”
“One in four, Ethan. One. In. Four. That’s a twenty-five percent chance our daughter will be raped. Molested. Assaulted.”
I can see she’s getting worked up. I step behind her and rub her shoulders. I can feel her relax under my touch and it makes me smile. “Charlie, we can’t live our lives in fear of that,” I tell her. “We could get hit by a bus on our way home from this appointment. We can’t live in a bubble. We have to live our lives to the fullest and hope for the best.”
She cranes her neck around. “Why do I feel there is a rule coming?”
I laugh. “Okay, how about this one. Rule number sixteen—carpe diem.”
“Doesn’t that mean ‘live for today’ or something?”
“Technically, it means ‘seize the day,’ but yes, you’ve got the right idea. We can’t control tomorrow. We can’t change the past. All we can do is make today the best we can make it, and go on from there.”
She pulls me around her so I’m standing between her legs. “I knew there was a reason I loved you. You’re just so . . . reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” I make a sour face at her. “I’d rather you love me because I’m charming. Or sexy. Or an incredible lover.”
“I love you for all those things, too. But right this second, I love you because you’re reasonable.”
I kiss her on the tip of her nose. “I guess I can live with that.”
“So, are we going to find out the sex?” she asks.
“If you really want to we can. But there are so few true surprises in life anymore. If it were up to me, I’d wait.”
“Then we wait,” she says.
“Really?”
“Of course. You’re his daddy,” she says. “Or hers.”
My smile splits my face in two. “Say it again,” I beg.
“You’re his daddy,” she says.
“Or hers,” I add, and we both laugh.
~ ~ ~
While I wait for Charlie to dress, I stare at the ultrasound photos Dr. Chavis printed off for us. Turns out, baby Stone was not cooperating and we wouldn’t have been able to find out the sex anyway. His or her legs were so tightly crossed it’s as if he or she were in on the surprise.
Charlie emerges from the room and I tuck the pictures into my pocket. If Thompson is still outside, I wouldn’t want him to see them. I grab her hand and escort her quickly through the waiting area, not looking around to see if he’s still here.
As soon as we’re through the door, someone comes out into the hallway behind us. “So, am I going to have a son or a daughter?” Thompson asks. “I really hope it’s not a girl. Girls are more trouble than they’re worth. Of course I’m not sure I want it to be a boy if he’s going to be some pansy-ass ginger.”
I pull Charlie behind me and turn around. “What you’re going to have is my fist in your nose if you don’t walk away right now.”
He holds up his hands in surrender. “Geez. Aren’t we touchy? Just trying to get the information I’m entitled to. I guess I’ll have to go ask the office whether I should get pink or blue shit.” He grabs the door handle, but then he spins around and looks right at me. “Oh, and I’d think twice about threatening me. You have no idea how much power I really have over you, do you?”
I’m in front of him in two steps, Charlie begging me back. I get in his face. “I’m not threatening you,” I say. “I’m telling you there is no fucking way you will ever touch me, Charlie, or this baby. I know exactly who you are and what you’ve done. Apparently you don’t know the same about me. In the future, I’d be careful who you fuck with.”
He doesn’t seem as affected by my intimidation as I’d hoped. He simply says, “You two have a good day. Be sure to feed that kid of mine, okay?” Then he disappears back into the office.
Levi comes barging through the stairwell door, out of breath after apparently running up eight flights of stairs. He looks at the hallway that is now empty but for Charlie and me. “Shit. Sorry I took so long, I had to leave my gun with security.”
I raise my eyebrows at Charlie. “You called him?”
“It was a text,” she says, not looking apologetic in the least. “I couldn’t have you and Zach killing each other.”
“Is this you protecting me?” I ask, taking her hand in mine.
“It goes both ways,” she says.
“What happened?” Levi asks, his eyes bouncing between us.
“Pissing contest, I’d say,” Charlie tells him.
“Who won?”
I shake my head. “I’d have to call it a draw.”
I look at Charlie, pale and frazzled from the confrontation. I decide to take the rest of the afternoon off, telling Levi to handle things in my absence. Charlie is under a tremendous amount of stress and I need to make sure she’s okay.
“Let’s get you home.”
Thirty minutes later, she’s sitting on our new couch as I’m drawing her a bath. I think the oversized sunken Jacuzzi tub is her favorite thing about the penthouse. Well, that and the view. She will sit and stare out the windows for hours. But whenever I ask her what she’s thinking about when she does it, she clams up.
Sometimes I think she’s wondering where all the men from her list are.
Other times, maybe she’s wondering about her father. Days like today, when I catch her staring out the windows while rubbing her belly, I know she’s thinking about the future. Wondering if the plans we’re making are just pipe dreams, or if they could be our happily-ever-after.
I fetch her when her bath is ready. She brings her phone so she can call Piper. I give her some privacy to talk with her best friend. But not five minutes go by before I hear her heart-wrenching cries while I’m preparing her a snack in the kitchen. I run in to see what’s the matter, fearing she’s tried to get out of the tub and slipped on the tile.
She’s still sitting in the tub, her legs pulled up and her arms wrapped around them. “What happened? Are you okay?” I ask, looking her over for signs of trauma.
She looks up at me, tears rolling off her cheeks and into the water. She nods to the phone clutched in her hand. “She’s dead.”
My heart thunders. “Who’s dead?”
“Mrs. Buttermaker.”
“Mrs. Buttermaker died?” I ask. “How do you know?”
“Piper told me. Mason told her. When she didn’t show up for her swim last night, the girl at the front desk got worried and called her house. Mrs. Buttermaker hadn’t missed a swim in five years.” She closes her eyes, shaking her head. “It’s not fair, Ethan. That woman was in better shape than most forty-year-olds. She exercised every day. She exercised while her deadbeat husband wasted his life away in his Barcalounger. How is it that she’s the one who died from a stroke and not him?”
“Oh, no. She had a stroke?” I sit on the edge of the tub and take the phone from her, placing it on the vanity.
She nods, her chest still heaving with each breath. “It’s not fair, Ethan. She was so nice and good. Why do bad things happen to good people?”
All of a sudden, I know we’re not just talking about Mrs. B.
Charlie’s sobs come so quickly, I fear she might become hysterical. In record time, I remove my clothes and slip into the tub behind her, wrapping my arms tightly around her.
“Why, Ethan? Why is all this happening?”
I embrace her until she settles down, then something on the floor catches my eye. The ultrasound pictures are sticking out of my shirt pocket. I dry my hands with a towel and reach over to get them. I hold one of the pictures up in front of her. “Look at this,” I say. “It’s amazing. We can see his fingers. His toes. He’s still got so much growing to do, but he’s already perfect.”
Stone Rules (A Mitchell Sisters/Stone Brothers Novel) Page 25