by A. m Madden
“Fuck.” I didn’t know which was more unbelievable—a recall on condoms or the fact that Brad was right.
“We know it’s yours?” Nate asked next. I wasn’t surprised. He had asked the same after Tracey’s news.
“It’s definitely mine.” When silence had me searching Nate’s face, his expression meant the lawyer in him wasn’t content with my confirmation. “First off, she offered to do a paternity test.”
“And you should accept.”
“She hasn’t been with anyone but me, Nate. I trust her.” Seemed ridiculous to say out loud, but I did. More silence meant he didn’t agree. “What?”
“Trust takes time to build and one instance to break. How can you be so sure that kid is yours?”
“You weren’t this opinionated when Tracey became pregnant.”
“You’ve known Tracey forever. You don’t know this Jade person all that well. I see this stuff happening all the time, Max. Even the most level-headed clients sometimes resort to insane methods to get what they want.”
My blood simmered at his insinuation. “Get what they want? What are you talking about? We hooked up and had a one-night stand. She didn’t know me.”
“Maybe not, but for all you know, you walked into her life and presented the perfect opportunity. Maybe her biological clock is ticking…”
“At twenty-seven?” This time, I grumbled with a sigh. “And, what, she hoped I had a condom from the recalled batch? Jesus. I expected you to be rational, but the scenario you’re painting is right out of a soap opera.”
“Girl meets boy…girl gets pregnant…boy is forever attached to girl financially even though unmarried mothers are granted primary right to custody of their children.”
“That’s a very clinical simplification, Nate. Divorce law has ruined you. You know that, right? You’ll end up alone because of your cynicism.”
“Maybe.” He shrugged. “But at least I control my heart.”
“Part of me would rather risk heartbreak than walk away not knowing what could’ve been.” I froze at my own words.
The implication didn’t go unnoticed by my brother, either. “Wait…” Nate leaned over and replaced his firm hand on my shoulder. “You like her.”
“He does,” Brad piped in. “I knew the minute he saw her.”
I remained silent. Why deny it at this point?
“I didn’t realize you did,” Nate said. “Sorry I gave you a hard time.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t blame him. He’d left the country knowing my good friend was pregnant with my baby and came back learning now another woman was, too.
“So, what’s the problem, then?” he asked.
“Besides that, I haven’t told her about Tracey yet, and when I do, it could understandably sway her opinion of us ever being a couple, she’s working her ass off to make junior partner at her law firm.”
Nate’s eyes instantly widened. “She’s an attorney and hot? Awesome. What kind?”
“Estate.”
He grinned. “Sounds like a keeper.”
“Now she’s a keeper? Two seconds ago, she was scheming to take my money.” I shook my head. “I have no time for a keeper, and neither does she. It won’t work.”
“Want my advice?”
“Sure,” I said, unconvincingly.
“If you like her, you need to give it a shot.”
“That doesn’t sound like the voice of Mr. Divorce.”
“Whoa, I’m not saying marry her,” he quickly clarified. “I’m saying what would be the harm in trying? What do you have to lose? Nothing.” Nate went on. “If it doesn’t work out, your situation really wouldn’t change any. Maybe she feels the same way.”
“Or telling her about Tracey and Miami could send her running.”
Brad came to lean on the bar, facing us. “So, what are you gonna do?”
Nate looked at me expectantly.
My brothers truly cared, and they deserved the truth. I drained the last of my beer then said from the bottom of my heart, “No fucking clue.”
Chapter Eleven
Jade
There was a reason Mondays were always the most strenuous day of my workweek. It set the momentum bar high, preparing me for depositions, partner meetings, or whatever followed during the week…the gun firing at the beginning of a sprint.
Unfortunately, I wasn’t a Monday morning person.
“Morning, Jade,” our receptionist, Leanne, said with a bright smile.
I forced a chipper response. “Morning.”
The sound of my heels clacking on the marble floor echoed just as she said, “The partners would like to see you and Gertie at nine.”
Even though my brain fired off question after alarming question, I threw her a tight smile. “Okay, thank you.”
Gertrude Adler joined the practice a few months after I had, and we sort of clung to each other in an atmosphere filled with dominating men. Our relationship was a supportive one. And now that we were both vying for the junior partner position, that dangling promotion created a healthy competition between us.
Knowing I had just about an hour before this impromptu meeting, I grabbed a much-needed cup of tea and dove into my workload. Since we hadn’t received an email explaining why the senior partners wanted to see us, there wasn’t any way to prepare myself.
The clock may as well have been moving backward by the time nine rolled around. With a heavy sigh, I tried to ignore my nerves when I grabbed a pad and pen and headed for the conference room.
Ten steps outside my door brought me face-to-face with Gertie.
She was normally so put together that I couldn’t help but notice her complexion looked pale, her big blue eyes glassy, her silky blonde hair pulled back haphazardly.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, just anxious.” Her ponytail swung behind her when she leaned in and whispered, “What the hell is this meeting about?”
“I have no clue.”
As different as we looked physically, the expression on her face at the moment mirrored mine. We walked side by side, slowing our pace, as if what awaited us was a guillotine. Once we reached the ornate paneled door, a silent fist bump filled with understanding passed between us.
“Ladies, please come in,” Mr. Sicks said at our arrival.
Gertie and I took the two chairs facing our would-be jurors, for whatever it was we were about to be tried for. The way the three white-haired men rigidly sat staring at us in matching charcoal suits, white shirts, and gray ties made them poster-boys for the Supreme Court…sans the black robes.
“I’m sure you’re both wondering why we called you in,” Warner said, always jumping right to the point.
I nodded, while Gertie said, “We are.”
“Well, as you know, we want to appoint the next junior partner.” My eyes tracked Warner’s wrinkled hand smoothing over his ridiculously expense silk tie as we waited for him to continue. “We all think very highly of you both, and we feel it isn’t a decision we can make subjectively.” Warner looked to his right, in essence, handing the baton to Sicks.
“Therefore,” the other man said, “we decided the Betterman case will be the deciding factor. You will act as co-counsel until trial begins.”
Gertie and I swung our gazes toward each other until they locked. The Betterman case was one of the biggest estate battles the country had ever seen. Two brothers were contesting their father’s will where he left half of everything, the multimillion dollar business included, to the twenty-five-year-old woman he married only six months before his death.
“Sir, there can only be one lead counsel assigned,” I stated the obvious.
“We are well aware,” Thompson responded. “You’ll both share in the research and prepare accordingly. Before the trial begins, the Betterman brothers will choose who they want to repres
ent them. That person will be the next junior partner at Warner, Sicks, and Thompson.”
“Okay, ladies. May the better woman win.” Sicks suddenly busted out laughing. “Not to be confused with Better…man.”
They all looked so proud of themselves. Meanwhile, Gertie and I sat frozen in shock, both petrified for likely the same reasons. But my secret pregnancy was another reason nausea percolated in my gut.
The rest of my day was so busy I barely had time to breathe. Since becoming pregnant, I forced myself to take an hour every day for lunch. No longer would a granola bar from the snack machine be acceptable as nutrition, but after this morning’s announcement, I wouldn’t dare leave my desk, so I had a salad delivered.
Somewhere around three, my cell rang. It was Max calling. That was unusual. He would know I was at work.
“Hey,” I said, my casual tone hiding my surprise.
“Hi, Jade. I’m sure you’re busy, so I’ll be quick. Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Um…yes. I am…” I said, my words slowing as my thoughts sped up. Dinner would mean seeing each other in person for a change. Since telling him about the baby a few weeks ago, our communication had been limited to simple phone check-ins and text messages. Dinner with him…spending time together…having more than a “hi, how are you” conversation—finally making plans for this baby. If he was available, and so was I, I couldn’t pass that up. “I can be done here by six. Does that work?”
“Perfect,” he said. “I’ll meet you in the lobby there? Just text me the address.”
I sent him what he asked for and proceeded to watch the clock tick down slower than it ever had for the next three hours.
At six on the nose, I found Max waiting for me in the lobby. Oblivious to the appreciative glances he received from some females strolling by, I completely understood the lure. His tall, ridiculously fit body seemed to stand out among the crowd and along with that gorgeous face had my own heart skipping a beat.
He seemed nervous in the way his eyes were trained toward the elevator bank and shifting from person to person in an obvious search. A small smile lifted his demeanor when he spotted me.
“Hi,” he said before leaning down to kiss my cheek. His cologne overwhelmed my senses, as his lips on my skin awakened a desire for him. Weeks without his touch had felt like years, and with one simple kiss, he managed to flip open the lid that unleashed a swell of repressed desire.
“Hi,” I repeated.
“I thought we’d grab something to eat across the street. There’s a cute Italian restaurant.”
“Yep, it’s good food.”
“Great. Let’s go.” He motioned toward the door, falling in step beside me. Except for that peck he gave me, he disappointingly kept a deliberate space between us as we exited the building. I tried not to harp on why that seemed to bother me. Max led me directly across the street to the restaurant. He seemed off, different from the man who easily charmed me the night we met. And combined with curiosity over why he needed to see me caused an uneasy feeling.
It wasn’t until we were seated and handed our menus before he finally spoke. “How are you feeling?”
“Nauseous.”
Sympathy lines creased his handsome face. “I thought that was only in the morning.”
“No, it’s—” I shook my head. “I mean yes, it is in the morning, but not only in the morning. And I didn’t mean I’m literally nauseous right now. I meant because of work. Rough day. I’ve been okay, just tired. How have you been?”
“Crazed,” he admitted easily. His mesmerizing green eyes connected with mine. “Jade, there’s a lot I need to tell you.”
Based on his deportment, I suspected the reason for this evening wasn’t a social one…but that didn’t make me any less anxious while waiting for him to speak.
“Are you guys ready?” the waiter asked, pulling my attention away.
Max looked to me to go first, and I quickly responded, “I’ll just have a bowl of your minestrone soup.” Max then ordered the same, tracking the man as he walked toward the kitchen.
“You were saying?” I reminded, wanting him to do most of the talking. As a lawyer, I knew silence was often golden in getting information.
“Let me preface this by assuring you that I’m single…and I was single the night we met.” He nervously fiddled with his fork. “I’ve been spending a lot of time in Miami. It’s where I went to college, and after opening my gym here in New York, I hoped I could open a second location down there one day. After years of hoping, it’s finally happening this February.”
February…the month before I was due. Pieces of this new puzzle started fitting together in my mind, but I needed him to keep talking to get the full picture. The facts.
“That’s fantastic, Max,” I forced myself to say cheerfully.
“Thank you. For the past six months, I’ve been traveling back and forth. My good friend, Tracey, who also attended Miami U, lives there. This past February, I had to head down to sign all the contracts. She and I celebrated over dinner, had a few too many, and…things happened.”
“Things.” I sipped my water, my throat suddenly dry. “The same kind of things that happened between us?”
“Yes.”
“I see. So, do you have feelings for each other?” He said he was single when we met, but was Tracey who he wanted to be with now?
“No, not like that,” he said. “We were never anything other than friends. In fact, she’s met someone since then and is now very happy with him. Shortly after she began dating Tristan, though, she found out she was…” He paused and ran his hand through his hair, his eyes connecting with mine almost pleadingly. “She, um…she found out that she was pregnant. Not from Tristan. From me.” I almost laughed—it was too absurd to be true. But my brain quickly assessed his wrinkled brow and the strained tone of voice realizing…this wasn’t a joke.
He’s expecting another child?
With a woman who lives where he’s planning his future?
With a woman he considers a friend…
Now I really was nauseous.
He pulled in a long breath. “Say something.”
Fortunately, our waiter showed up again with his impeccable timing.
I waited until he’d filled our water glasses and deposited a basket full of bread between us before speaking.
“This is a lot to process,” I admitted calmly, while inside a voice screamed, This changes everything! “When is she due?”
“November.” As if reading my mind, he added, “I understand if you can’t see past the fact I’m having a child with someone else. I know your career is demanding, same as is mine. I know all of this only piles the odds against us. But…” He pinned me with those stunning green eyes and said, “I can’t stop thinking about you.” My heart flipped at his admission. He reached forward, linked our fingers on the table, and patiently waited for me to respond as his thumb caressed the top of my hand.
“You have a lot going on,” I said.
“I do…but none of what’s happening right now in my life, your pregnancy included, has managed to erase memories our time together,” he stated matter-of-factly with a sexy smirk. “That has to mean something.”
“It means we had one hot night together.”
“It was more than that.” All humor faded from his features while holding me hostage with a penetrating gaze.
As my heart pounded in my chest, two bowls of steaming soup were placed before us. “Anything else I can get you?”
“That’s it for now,” Max said to the waiter while continuing to stare at me. The man retreated again, and Max continued. “Can we talk about this?”
“Where do we even start?” I shook my head in frustration, even as my heart remained focused on loving the fact that Max wanted to be with me. Still, this was insane. “What about your other gym in M
iami? What about your other child in Miami? What about my eighty-hour work weeks—in New York? How is this going to work?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, I need more than ‘I don’t know.’ This is too big for ‘I don’t know,’ Max.”
His expression smoldered hot and intense as he held steady eye contact. “Then I’ll tell you what I do know. I know I can’t walk away from something that could be great. I know I can’t walk away from you. Not unless or until you tell me to.”
I ignored the flutter of hope that again kicked inside my gut.
“Do you want me to walk away, Jade?”
“No,” I said too quickly, cursing my damn heart for jumping ahead of my brain.
His whole body visibly relaxed. “We can take it slow,” he suggested, “get to know each other better, even avoid sex if that helps. But you don’t have to commit to anything right now. Just…think about it?”
I supposed I could give him that much. “All right. I’ll think about it.”
Max hailed a cab for me, and I spent the whole ride with my thoughts ping-ponging between excitement and confusion. Everything kept coming back to one simple question.
How the hell is this going to work? Winging it had never been my style.
I ended up walking around my block a few times to clear my head. An hour later, I walked into my apartment feeling no less confused. Amy was on the couch, typing away while The Notebook played on the TV.
“Why are you home so early?” she asked without looking away from her laptop.
“Hello to you, too.”
She raised a brow. “Who let the grouch out?”
I sighed. “Sorry, rough day.”
“Those should help you feel better.” She pointed to a small floral arrangement of pink and white roses sitting on the coffee table. It wasn’t as big as the one I received for my birthday, but equally sweet a gesture. “This makes the second romantic delivery you’ve had from that boy, yet you swear you aren’t a thing. Card says, I’m hoping you’ll agree. M.” Amy narrowed her eyes on me and teased, “Agree to what?”