Read Online Having Jay's Baby (Having His Baby #2) by Fran Louise - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Fran Louise
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sobering one. Nausea circled like a hungry bird, but I kept my focus on Bull. “Okay, let’s assume I call off the divorce,” I said after a long silence. The sun went behind a cloud and I blinked, readjusting to the light. “What else do I need to do?”
We talked about the various possible scenarios over lunch. Fueller recommended I lay low. I could continue to attend charity events and the like, but no obvious displays of wealth, nothing that could cause a backlash should the investigation veer in my direction. By the time the bill arrived, I was feeling a lot less optimistic than I had been arriving at the terrace earlier. The weight of what was to come was suddenly very real. Above everything else, the prospect of resuming my marriage was looming like a dark cloud. Bull was insistent I keep up pretences; no one, except me, Elizabeth and Bull, could know it was anything less than a full reconciliation.
I’d just lanced a wound; it was painful and unpleasant, but now I could start working on making it better. It was with this goal in mind that I turned back to Fueller after we’d parted ways.
“Wait up, Bull.” I ran down the path towards the older man, arriving at his side by the lake. “I’ve got a favour to ask.” I paused. “Remember a few months ago I asked you to look into that journalist?”
“Winters,” Fueller said, sharp as a tack. “Yeah, sure.”
“I got another one of those notes,” I said.
Fueller frowned. He frowned in a way that made grown men nervous. “You don’t say.” He considered my reticent features. “No idea who’s behind it?”
“There are more than a few candidates,” I said with a humourless laugh. “Anyway, it’s not about the notes.” My brow settled, a slight pain resonating in my tight jaw. “I want to know.”
“Know what?”
“About this kid,” I said evenly. “If she’s mine. For sure.”
Fueller’s brows lifted. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I guess that’s one way to stop the notes.” He paused for a moment, eyes narrow as he chewed over some unspoken issue. “You’d better be ready to find out, though.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “The mother’s in trouble with the ex. If I can prove the kid isn’t mine, it stops the notes and it’ll help her with this child support thing she’s got going. She could use a break.”
“I’m sure she could, but what if it is yours? Ever think about that?”
Smiling, I took a step back. “Let me worry about that,” I said. “Just take care of it, would you, buddy? I owe you one.”
#
Elizabeth appeared from the master bedroom in a flowing dress of pale, pink silk. I stopped what I was doing for a moment and stared at her. In profile, unobserved, she was a pleasure to look at. Her hair was swept up in a regal knot at the base of her neck, the dark blond tresses glinting in the dim light. The dress, while simple, was stylish and she did it full justice. It was her expression that caught me, though – the unassuming air I rarely saw; she seemed completely unaware of my presence.
Then she stared at her phone, her expression tightened into irritation. I looked away, the illusion shattered.
“I’m not taking a town car,” she said. “I told you, Jay. I want Teddy to drive us in the Mercedes. It’s so pedestrian showing up in a town car. We may as well hail a cab, for God’s sake.”
I walked away. She’d agreed to this temporary resumption of our marriage with open eyes. I hadn’t spared the truth, and she knew it was in both of our interests to lay low. Yet we’d only been back in the apartment two days and already she was like a bear with a sore head. She was jumpy and tense, at turns plaintive, at turns utterly inert. I was starting to wonder if she was self-medicating.
Entering the study, I slid my phone into the pocket of my pants and then checked the messy surface of the desk for anything else I might need. We were running late. I snatched up the pile of unread mail
We talked about the various possible scenarios over lunch. Fueller recommended I lay low. I could continue to attend charity events and the like, but no obvious displays of wealth, nothing that could cause a backlash should the investigation veer in my direction. By the time the bill arrived, I was feeling a lot less optimistic than I had been arriving at the terrace earlier. The weight of what was to come was suddenly very real. Above everything else, the prospect of resuming my marriage was looming like a dark cloud. Bull was insistent I keep up pretences; no one, except me, Elizabeth and Bull, could know it was anything less than a full reconciliation.
I’d just lanced a wound; it was painful and unpleasant, but now I could start working on making it better. It was with this goal in mind that I turned back to Fueller after we’d parted ways.
“Wait up, Bull.” I ran down the path towards the older man, arriving at his side by the lake. “I’ve got a favour to ask.” I paused. “Remember a few months ago I asked you to look into that journalist?”
“Winters,” Fueller said, sharp as a tack. “Yeah, sure.”
“I got another one of those notes,” I said.
Fueller frowned. He frowned in a way that made grown men nervous. “You don’t say.” He considered my reticent features. “No idea who’s behind it?”
“There are more than a few candidates,” I said with a humourless laugh. “Anyway, it’s not about the notes.” My brow settled, a slight pain resonating in my tight jaw. “I want to know.”
“Know what?”
“About this kid,” I said evenly. “If she’s mine. For sure.”
Fueller’s brows lifted. “Okay,” he said slowly. “I guess that’s one way to stop the notes.” He paused for a moment, eyes narrow as he chewed over some unspoken issue. “You’d better be ready to find out, though.”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “The mother’s in trouble with the ex. If I can prove the kid isn’t mine, it stops the notes and it’ll help her with this child support thing she’s got going. She could use a break.”
“I’m sure she could, but what if it is yours? Ever think about that?”
Smiling, I took a step back. “Let me worry about that,” I said. “Just take care of it, would you, buddy? I owe you one.”
#
Elizabeth appeared from the master bedroom in a flowing dress of pale, pink silk. I stopped what I was doing for a moment and stared at her. In profile, unobserved, she was a pleasure to look at. Her hair was swept up in a regal knot at the base of her neck, the dark blond tresses glinting in the dim light. The dress, while simple, was stylish and she did it full justice. It was her expression that caught me, though – the unassuming air I rarely saw; she seemed completely unaware of my presence.
Then she stared at her phone, her expression tightened into irritation. I looked away, the illusion shattered.
“I’m not taking a town car,” she said. “I told you, Jay. I want Teddy to drive us in the Mercedes. It’s so pedestrian showing up in a town car. We may as well hail a cab, for God’s sake.”
I walked away. She’d agreed to this temporary resumption of our marriage with open eyes. I hadn’t spared the truth, and she knew it was in both of our interests to lay low. Yet we’d only been back in the apartment two days and already she was like a bear with a sore head. She was jumpy and tense, at turns plaintive, at turns utterly inert. I was starting to wonder if she was self-medicating.
Entering the study, I slid my phone into the pocket of my pants and then checked the messy surface of the desk for anything else I might need. We were running late. I snatched up the pile of unread mail
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