Quarterback Baby Daddy (A Secret Baby Sports Romance)

by Claire Adams

  But I hadn't expected the bad luck streak to last this long.

  It wasn't just about the bad luck. Sure, it was hard for me to hold down a steady job when I had Emma to look after. I was shocked to find how inflexible bosses could be when my daughter was sick, or when I was running late because there'd been a line of people waiting to check in their kids at the daycare.

  And even when I had a job, minimum wage was barely enough for us to survive on. With the cost of diapers and daycare and clothes seemingly every month, there was no way I was able to save anything. With the periods of unemployment, I had rapidly eaten my way through my savings.

  Which brought us to today. Ninety-seven dollars in the bank, a slumbering three-year-old, and a frazzled mother.

  And the eviction notice.

  My phone rang, and my heart leaped into my throat. I sent up a small prayer that it was someone calling about a job. If I could only get a job, maybe I could get my feet back under me again. I could bring the job offer to the landlord and ask him to bear with me. I didn't know how successful that would be, since he'd already been patiently waiting for me to pay rent for three months now. But maybe, just maybe he’d show me some mercy.

  I felt a surge of disappointment as I consulted the caller ID, and then I felt horrible for feeling that way. It was Misty, who was still my best friend through all of this. She'd babysat Emma for free more times than I could count, and she'd taken me out for drinks a few times, too, claiming that it was worth buying my company for the night.

  Still, I didn't really want to talk to her right now, with my life totally falling apart around me. I wasn't sure I could get through the call without crying.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then, I picked up the phone. “Hey, Misty.”

  “Hey, darling. You sound upset.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed, going back in the other room and flopping down on the bed so that I wouldn't wake up Emma. “It's been a rough day.”

  “Are you working yet?”

  “I wish,” I said bitterly. “You know I'd tell you the moment I managed to even snag an interview.”

  “What's up then?” Misty asked, ever patient with my drama.

  “I got an eviction notice this morning,” I told her. “They're kicking us out at the end of the week, unless I manage to pay them all the back-money that I owe, plus the next month's rent. I have a whopping ninety-seven bucks in my account at the moment.”

  “Yikes,” Misty said. “Have you talked to your mom?”

  “She's still off at that artist's retreat,” I told her. “Anyway, I wouldn't really want her to know how bad things have gotten.”

  Misty was silent for a moment. “Why haven't you applied for government aid?” she asked softly.

  I sighed. “Because,” I said, even though I knew that wasn't an answer that she'd accept. I frowned, trying to find some way to elaborate. “I'm college-educated,” I finally said. “I'm able-bodied. I have every quality that should be needed to at least get a minimum wage job as a dishwasher or a, I don't know, a babysitter or something. I guess I just keep expecting that my luck is going to turn around.”

  “Oh, honey,” Misty said, sounding sad. She paused. “How about this?” she asked. “Trish moved out the other day unexpectedly, and I haven't had the chance to fill her room yet. You could come stay with me for a little while, if you wanted. You and Emma both.”

  “I'm sensing a 'but,'” I said suspiciously.

  “There is a but,” Misty agreed grimly.

  “If it's applying for government aid, I can do that,” I said. “I'll get the papers today. I promise. You're right; I shouldn't have ever left it this long, not when there's Emma's livelihood at stake. I've been a really bad mother.”

  “You've been a really great mother,” Misty said soothingly. “And I know how much you want to do right for your daughter. But I don't want you to apply for government aid.”

  “What do you want then?” I asked. “I can help out around the house, or whatever you need.”

  Misty continued to delay. Finally, she sighed. “I want you to promise that you'll get in touch with Andrew.”

  “You know I can't do that,” I said, shaking my head, even though I knew she couldn't see it through the phone line.

  “I know you don't want him involved in Emma's life, but he should still be paying child support or something,” she said. “It's his child, too.”

  “And what if he wants to take her away from me?” I asked angrily. “He could take me to court. He could afford to do so. And if the judge looked at our cases, there's no reason that they wouldn't assign full custody to him. I'm unemployed and basically homeless. Clearly, I can't cut it as a single mother.”

  “Do you really think that he would want to take Emma away from you?” Misty asked. “I know you haven't been keeping tabs on him because it's too painful, but he's still sleeping around and partying it up. He's less ready for the responsibilities of a child than you are, unemployed and homeless though you may be.”

  “But what if he wants something better for Emma?” I asked. “Even if he doesn't want her in his life, he could make the state take her away from me.”

  “The guy might have been an asshole to you, but I doubt he's that cruel,” Misty said, sounding exasperated.

  We were both silent for a moment. I didn't know what to say in response to that.

  But Misty sighed. “I know it isn't really about you being afraid to lose Emma,” she said. “We both know that you would never let that happen, and we both know you're being ridiculous about this whole situation. What it really comes down to is the same thing that's been keeping you from applying for government aid.”

  “And what's that?” I bit out.

  I knew I shouldn't get angry with her, especially not when she was just trying to help me, but as frustrated as I was with my current lot in life, I couldn't help taking out some of it on her.

  “It's pride,” Misty said simply. “You're too prideful to apply for government aid, and you're too prideful to ask Andrew for help.”

  “That's not it, and you know it,” I snapped peevishly. “I mean, okay, the government aid, sure. But with Andrew, pride is the furthest thing from my mind.”

  “Well, whatever it is, you're going to need to get over it,” Misty said matter-of-factly. “Those are my terms, like them or not. If you and Emma want to come stay with me, you're going to have to get in contact with Andrew and tell him about his daughter. If not, you're going to have to figure out something else.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling the tears start to come up. “I've been trying to think of something, but I can't,” I told her. “I just want what's best for Emma.”

  “Well, maybe what's best for Emma is having a nice trust fund set up by her daddy, even if that's not what's best for Mommy,” Misty said. I knew she wasn't saying it to be cruel, and somewhere deep down, I also knew that she was correct. But that didn't make the words hurt any less.

  I sat up, swinging my legs over the edge of my bed, already contemplating how I was going to move all of my things across the city to Misty's home. It wasn't as though I had a car anymore. I'd been relying on the bus ever since upkeep on the car had gotten to be too much.

  “You're right,” I sighed, dropping my head and sniffling.

  “It's going to be okay,” Misty said gently. She paused. “And fortunately for you, I know a guy who has a trailer. He'll be at your place this afternoon.”

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  Chapter Eight

  Andrew

  Although I sometimes appreciated the convenience of working from home, I really preferred being in the office, right in the thick of things. But that morning, Renée and I had woken up late, and it had seemed pointless to go into the office for a few hours just to turn around and go back home. Anyway, it was a Saturday, and Renée was always telling me that I needed to relax more on the weekends.

  It was funny, coming from her, seeing as she was at th
e gym at the moment for her tri-weekly fitness class, which would be followed by a smoothie date with her friends, which would be followed by drinks with different friends. She didn't know the first thing about relaxing on the weekends. It was one of the things I appreciated about her.

  I checked through my messages and emails, slogging through a myriad of inanities, while I munched on the lunch that Janice, my maid, had brought me. It was nothing fancy, just a small salad alongside leftovers from the previous night. But her meals were definitely tasty. I'd started eating at home a lot more since Renée and I had started getting serious, and I never failed to appreciate the woman's creativity and depth of cooking skills.

  “Is everything okay with your lunch?” Janice asked as she began mopping the kitchen floor.

  “It's great,” I said around a mouthful. “Just a shame that Renée couldn't be here to enjoy it as well.” I'd tried to convince her to blow off her class to stay for just a little longer, promising her a workout to rival the one she'd get at the gym, only far more pleasurable. But she'd laughed and untangled herself from my arms and gone to shower, locking the bathroom door behind her in case I got any ideas.

  Janice snorted, bringing me back to our present conversation. “If you say so, sir.”

  I grinned at her, knowing full well that Janice didn't share my love for my current girlfriend. “You think I should break up with her.”

  “I never said that,” she said, pretending to focus on her mopping, even though I knew the woman liked to gossip.

  “I know she can be haughty,” I mused as I continued to click through messages. “She rubs a lot of people the wrong way. But she and I get along well.”

  “I can see that,” was all Janice said. “I'm glad she makes you happy.”

  “She must be wonderful if I've been able to date her for a few months!” I said, chuckling. “That's a new record for me, you realize.” I frowned at one of the emails that I'd received. “Of course, it hasn't escaped Katherine's notice that it's a record for me either, and she's gone and invited us for a double-date on Friday night.”

  “That could be fun,” Janice said.

  I laughed. “In what universe would going on a double-date with one's younger sister and her husband-to-be, be considered 'fun'?” I asked. “It'll be torture. I love Katherine, but I just know she's going to go on and on about her wedding preparations, making subtle hints to me the whole time. And then she'll probably ask Renée to be one of her bridesmaids, meaning that I can't break up with the woman until after Katherine's wedding, which won't be for months, putting undue pressure on what is still very much a fledgling relationship.”

  Janice failed to hide her grin. “Well, if you're enjoying yourself with Renée, does it matter that your relationship is still young?” she asked. “It's about time you settled down anyway. You're at a good age for it.”

  “I'm still in my prime,” I argued.

  “And it's not like you need to continue to work yourself so hard. You have plenty of money saved up to last you for the rest of your life. You don't need to grow your savings anymore.”

  I burst out laughing at that. “Janice, do you honestly think that the only reason I go to work day in and day out is because I want to earn more money?” I asked. “I enjoy the work that I do. Anyway, things would fall apart if I weren't there to make sure everything was on track.”

  “Then you need to delegate more,” Janice said simply.

  The doorbell rang, startling both of us. I didn't have a fence around the property because I didn't like the aesthetic of it. All the same, everyone knew I, Andrew Goldwright, lived there, and no one seemed to want to bother me. I wasn't expecting anyone, and I didn't have any friends who would pop over unannounced. They would never know if I was home or not.

  I remembered Lexi's long-ago comments about security and grinned a little. She'd been worried about me being robbed, but I hardly ever even got solicitors.

  I nodded at Janice. “Would you get that for me, please?”

  She put down her mopping and went to answer the door. I turned back to Katherine's email, trying to think of some way to respond to it. There was just no good way to say 'hell no' politely.

  I clicked out of the message, resolving to come back to it later, and got back to my work emails, wondering absently why Katherine had sent a personal email to my work email anyway. Probably she thought I was more likely to check that one. Maybe she was hoping my secretary would see the thing and schedule the dinner for me, without telling me about it until it was too late to cancel.

  Janice came back into the kitchen, looking uncertain.

  “Who was it?” I asked. “Let me guess: it's a critical election year, and they want to have accurate polls of the area to pass on to my representative. Or else, I will absolutely die if I don't buy the latest in drone technology, or potato-peeling technology, or whatever the latest 'inventor' has thought up.”

  “Actually, you may want to answer this one,” Janice said, looking and sounding almost as though she'd seen a ghost.

  I frowned and closed my laptop, giving her my full attention. “Is something wrong? What have the neighbors done now?”

  “It's not the neighbors,” Janice said, shaking her head. “You'd really better answer this one for yourself.”

  “I'm in my sweatpants,” I pointed out. “I'm not even wearing a shirt yet.”

  “I'll get you a shirt,” Janice said. “I just folded a load of laundry, but I was waiting until after I mopped the floors to bring it upstairs so that then I could get to work on dusting the upper floor.”

  “Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands and wondering why she was so insistent about it. I wondered if whoever it was had given her lip when she'd tried to shoo them away. If they had, I was going to have to have a serious word with them. Janice might only be my maid, but I looked out for my loyal workers.

  I grabbed a shirt off the aforementioned stack on top of the dryer and pulled it over my head, running a hand through my hair to get it back to some semblance of normal. Then, I went out to the front hall.

  Standing there in the doorway was none other than Lexi. It had been a few years since I'd last seen her, and there were a few wrinkles around her eyes which hadn't been there before. She was thinner, too. Almost gaunt, even. But she looked just as beautiful as ever, despite the fact that she was dressed in paint-stained jeans and an oversized sweater, with her dark hair pulled up in a messy ponytail.

  It was honestly strange that I still remembered her name and was able to recognize her. I must have slept with a hundred other women in the intervening years, and yet, she was the one that I couldn't seem able to get out of my mind. Not that I'd ever admit that to anyone, and especially not to her.

  I cocked my head to the side, wondering what she was doing there. In Hollywood movies, you always saw those one-night stands coming back years later to confess their undying love or other ludicrous things like that. But Lexi hadn't struck me as the kind of woman prone to displays like that. The other thing Hollywood had taught me that she might come looking for was money. She'd threaten to blackmail me or something like that. But what was she going to do? She didn't have anything on me.

  Maybe she wanted me to get her a job with Orinoco. The company was still surging further and further ahead of its competitors. We had to be doing better than whatever company she was working for.

  I tried to remember what company it had been that she was working for when we had met, but the name escaped me. It had been too many years and too many other takeovers since then, and one company tended to blend into another.

  I didn't dwell on how strange it was that I remembered her name and couldn't remember the name of the company that we'd almost bought.

  Whatever she was doing there, I wasn't about to help her. I wasn't running a charity business. If she wanted a position with Orinoco, she would have to apply, the same as anyone else. I wasn't about to give her preferential treatment just because we'd spent one night, albeit a gre
at night, together. Nepotism was no way to run a business.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked, but even as I was asking it, my eyes fell on the small girl at her side.

  The girl was young, maybe two or three, and she was clinging to Lexi's hand, her eyes wide and worried. As my gaze fixed on her, she bit her lower lip, and I could tell that she wanted to duck behind her mother's legs. But she was a brave little thing, and she didn't move except to shuffle her feet a little.

  Was this Lexi's daughter? Was that why she had suddenly turned up on my doorstep, because she wanted to blackmail me into helping out with this kid? She must be really desperate, to turn to a one-night stand for help.

  But the kid didn't look very much like Lexi. In fact, if I had to point to someone that she looked like, the girl looked very much like Katherine had at her age. If someone had taken a picture of the kid and put it up on my mantle next to the similar pictures of Katherine and I around that young age, I wouldn't have even noticed anything out of place.

  My eyes darted back to Lexi's, even though I already knew what she was about to say. Lexi scooped up the girl, holding her in her arms, and I could see that the young mom's eyes were brimming with tears.

  “Andrew?” she asked, her voice hoarse. “This is Emma. She's your daughter. Our daughter.”

  With all the women that I'd slept with over the years, I had known, somewhere, that I must have gotten at least one of those women pregnant, statistically speaking. But to find out that I had a young daughter? That was another thing entirely. I stared at the pair of them, absolutely stunned.

  Then, I gathered my wits and took a step back, holding the door open. “I think you'd better come inside.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lexi

  We had hardly crossed the threshold before Emma was whining, “Mama, I'm hungry.”

  I gave her a distracted smile, hardly able to draw my eyes away from Andrew, who looked somehow even better than he had the last time that I'd seen him. “Emma, remember, we said we were going to go have a picnic after we had our meeting with the nice man here.”