I had to bite my tongue. They had no clue of the irony in that statement. I had never mentioned that Graham watched it.
Tig had his feet up as he put out his cigarette and cracked, “More like All My Children if you get what I mean.”
“Thanks a lot.” I rolled my eyes.
He continued, “What I don’t get is how this guy never considered the possibility that that kid was his.”
“He’d never seen her.”
“But he’d heard about the pregnancy, right? Couldn’t he have done the math? It didn’t dawn on him that it was, at least, possible?”
Feeling the need to defend Graham, I said, “They had stopped speaking. He didn’t know the exact timing. He just assumed it was Liam’s.”
Tig lit another cigarette. “That’s some crazy shit. You wake up one day and boom…instant family.”
His words made me shudder. Tig had just articulated my absolute worst fear.
Delia knew I was upset when she turned to her husband. “Don’t say that. He’s not with that chick. They’re not his family.”
“Believe me, it’s not like I haven’t thought that very same thing,” I said. “Not only was he once in love with her, but there’s no other man in the picture anymore, and she’s likely the mother of his child. Where exactly do I fit into this?”
Delia tried her best to talk me off the ledge. “You’re jumping way ahead of things. He’s not gonna want to be with her, especially after knowing she lied to him for years.”
I sighed. “This woman is beautiful and cunning. I bet she’s already trying to figure out how to make this situation work to her benefit. She’d scheduled a meeting with him to talk business even before he found out about Chloe at the funeral. She wants to merge Liam’s company with Graham’s.”
“I bet she wants to merge a lot more than that,” Tig cracked.
Delia walked over to Tig and shook him playfully. “Will you stop?” She looked at me. “Graham seems to really care about you. I have a hard time believing he’s gonna fall for her crap.”
Tig interjected, “I have a hard time picturing Soraya acting all Mary Poppins and shit with this kid. You have to look at the big picture here. Even if Mr. Big Prick doesn’t end up with the girl’s mother, Soraya still has to deal with raising someone else’s kid if she stays with this guy. That alone is something to consider.”
He was right. There were so many different layers to this problem.
“Soraya would be a good stepmother. We could dye the little girl’s tips and pierce her ears.” Delia smiled.
Tig blew out a huge waft of smoke. “You know what I think? I think you should bid Daddy Warbucks and Little Orphan Annie adieu. That’s just my opinion.”
That night, I’d finally changed the color of my tips again. They’d been green since the night of the gala. There was only one color that seemed to fit the current situation.
Code red.
CHAPTER 16
GRAHAM
IT FELT LIKE SORAYA WAS SLIPPING away from me. The excuse she gave me about hanging out with her friends was a load of bullshit. The worst part was that I couldn’t even say I blamed her. Imagine if the situation were reversed. How would I have handled it, knowing that she’d given birth to another man’s baby? That thought made me sick to my stomach. I felt so possessive over her; I just couldn’t imagine it.
This week had been like a nightmare I couldn’t wake up from. All I wanted was to go back to the way things were before the wake. Everything was so simple then.
I had so much work to get done but couldn’t stop thinking about the two females infiltrating my mind: Soraya and Chloe.
If she really was my daughter, then I owed her so much. None of this was her fault.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
I needed that paternity test. There was still a part of me that wouldn’t believe it until I had proof. I couldn’t allow myself to get emotionally invested until there was no doubt that she was mine.
My secretary’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Ms. Moreau is here to see you.”
Clicking my watch, I took a deep breath and said, “Send her in.”
The door opened, and Genevieve strutted into my office like she owned the place. There was a time when she practically did. She, Liam, and I would spend hours strategizing in this very office until the wee hours of the morning. She’d given me endless blow jobs under the very desk she now sat in front of with her legs crossed. It seemed just like yesterday, except for the fact that my previous love for her had turned into what felt like hate.
She placed a white box on my desk. “I brought you your favorite cupcake from Magnolia. Peanut Butter. I remember how much you—”
“Fuck! Shut up about the cupcake,” I spewed. “Is she mine?”
So much for a gradual lead in to the discussion.
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“You heard me. Chloe. Is she my daughter?”
She looked absolutely shocked as her cheeks turned red. How could she not have seen this confrontation coming?
When she didn’t speak, I continued, “Why do you look so surprised, Genevieve? Did you really think I was going to see her at the wake and not ask you that very question?”