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“So it’s over?”
I nod, finally able to admit it to myself.
“And Jonas still doesn’t know?”
“No.”
“Why did it end?”
“Because I’m a fucking moron.” He laughs and it makes me laugh. “Jonas wasn’t in her life for over a decade. They’ve both worked hard to repair that relationship and by the way she talked, it seemed like a big part of her attraction to me was that it was forbidden. Like the fact that she was doing something behind her dad’s back turned her on and I can’t deny that it wasn’t part of the draw for me too, initially.”
“Ah, but somehow feelings got involved?”
“Yup. Don’t get me wrong, it was a huge ego boost for me to have a twenty-four-year-old woman look at me the way she did, but it was more than that. I’m about to be forty-seven. I get that it looks like some midlife crisis bullshit but—” I let out a huge puff of air, finally saying the words out loud that I’ve felt for some time. “I’m in love with her.”
“Whoa, so serious feelings then.” He stands up and walks up beside me. “I know you’re not looking for advice, but if the only thing standing between you two and happiness is her father, why not at least talk to the man? We both know Jonas has a wife half his age so he can’t pull that shit.”
“He didn’t go after his best friend’s daughter; that’s where the issue will lie, or at least the more minor issue at hand.”
“What else aren’t you telling me?”
“It’s a dumpster fire.”
“Hit me,” he says, tossing back the rest of his drink.
“Venus Davenport,” I say and he looks over at me, well aware of my past with her. “She’s pregnant and she says it’s mine.”
“Well, smack my ass and call me Judy. I didn’t think this situation could get more complicated, but goddamn, Beckham.”
“I know.” I hang my head. “The crazy part is, I’m not—how do I say this without sounding like a hopeful piece of shit… I’m not positive the baby is mine.”
“You’re doing a paternity test then right?”
I shrug. “Brontë said I should, but Venus took her birth control out when we were together the last few weeks and didn’t tell me. I just think if I do it and it turns out she is my daughter, I’ll constantly feel awful about denying my own child. Not to mention, I know Venus and she’ll run to daddy the second that court-ordered paternity test hits her hands. The last thing I need or want is Miles Davenport screaming at me about how I knocked up his baby girl and now I’m trying to deny it. He’s never been fond of me, and I know he’d go spread that rumor around town so even if the baby turns out to not be mine, the damage will be done.”
I explain to him how the timeline worked and how I found out.
“It’s not that I don’t want kids at all anymore. For most of my life I didn’t, but with Brontë, she makes me want all those things I never gave a second thought to. And now, it’s all gone to shit, and I don’t know what to do.”
“So your plan is to just bend over and take it? Where the fuck has the Beckham Archer gone that I’ve known for the last twenty-five years? Because this sure as hell isn’t him.”
I crook an eyebrow over at my lawyer.
“This isn’t the kind of thing you just say well, I guess I’ll just let it happen to me and figure it out later. What the hell, man?”
I know he’s right. I’m the last person on this planet who would ever let someone manipulate me or pull the wool over my eyes, but I just feel so defeated after losing Brontë.
“I guess it’s a broken heart talking. She told me there’s no chance of us making things work and it just sucked the wind out of my sails. I’ve never felt this way before, Alt.” I turn to pour myself another glass of whiskey and he reaches out to stop me.
“I’m getting a court-ordered paternity test. I’ll have the forms completed and submitted to court tomorrow. Once they’re processed, I’ll go with you if you want, to serve Venus at her doorstep. You’re not going down without a fight, Beckham.”
I feel a burst of fight inside me rear its head.
“And then, when it comes out that she’s lying, you’re going to march your ass over to Brontë’s house and tell that woman how you feel and make things right because this”—he wags his hand up and down my disheveled appearance—“isn’t a good look on you.”
I can’t fight the smile that pulls at my lips.
“I was just trying to get through my depressed phase since it all just went down over the last few days, but thanks for lighting a fire under my ass, Alt.” I reach out and grab his shoulder. “Now get home to your family so I can go back to drinking and sulking in peace.”
