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Chapter three
“Have we received the data on the prints we collected on the Spring case?” I ask Harper as I peek my head into her office. She looks up at me from her computer and tilts her head. I lift my eyebrows, waiting for an answer she’s not giving me. “Well?” I ask impatiently.
Her lips twist. “Addison, we just took those prints yesterday.” Her words come out slow and unsure. I roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Can’t people do anything quickly around here? I spin on my heels and stomp to my office. Who can I call to get things moving? I grab my office phone and bring it to my ear while I hold down the receiver button, thinking of whom the best person to call would be. Hmm.
“Addison, put down the phone.” I look over to Harper as she walks into my office. She walks up to me, takes the phone out of my hand, and hangs it up. “Is today the day?” she asks, sympathetically.
I fall back into my chair, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes. “Yes,” I murmur. I sit up straighter and cross my arms. “I’ve done everything I can possibly do in here,” I say, looking around. My desk is spotless; all my paperwork has been filed away or put in my file holder on my desk. I even cleaned my keyboard. Ugh, that was disgusting. I have got to clean more often. “I can’t stop thinking about Jessie having Aiden’s baby today. It pisses me off even more because I don’t even believe it’s his!” I push off my chair and it rolls back against the wall, making a thud. A growl escapes my lips as I run my hands through my hair.
Harper leans up against my door, shakes her head slightly, and looks down at her watch. “It’s four. I’m sure CJ will understand if we took off an hour early. Like you said, you’re caught up with everything. Let’s go grab a drink.” You don’t need to ask me twice.
“I only have two hours before I have to pick up Lulu, so don’t let me drink too much,” I say as I open my desk drawer and grab my purse. I wish I could say that I would stop myself, but right now I’m not so sure.
We walk into O’Malley’s and Vinnie greats us as we take a seat at the bar. I look around and notice only a couple of other women here. I bet they’re not here because their fiancé might become a father by another woman. I slap my forehead. Stop thinking, Addison.
“Vinnie, we’ll take two glasses of merlot,” Harper orders. I’m thankful she didn’t order shots. That’s a black hole I don’t need to fall into tonight, no matter how bad I want to jump headfirst into it. He places our drinks in front of us, and I immediately bring the glass to my lips. I focus on the warm yet smooth red liquid that coats my throat, and it’s the first time today my mind isn’t focused on Jessie. I slowly put my glass down and stare at it. My mind is blank, and I revel in the emptiness because I know it’s not going to last long. Harper allows me this time in silence.
I exhale loudly and turn toward Harper. “Thanks.”
“Anytime,” she replies. “So, has he talked to her at all?”
I nod my head. I’d encouraged Aiden to talk to her. I know he didn’t want to, but he needed to. He reluctantly called her and found out she’s staying here in New York, which I’m still not sure why. Aiden has no clue either. I wonder if she’s been in New York City this whole time. He’s under the assumption the less he knows, the better. I don’t like to live like that. I need to know details. She’s up to something. Why did she wait eight months to tell him she was pregnant? Where has she been since she left Newport? There are so many unanswered questions. I guess it only matters if the baby is Aiden’s. If not, she can pack her bags and get the hell out of our lives forever.
Unfortunately, that’s what’s bugging me. She knows Aiden is going to have a DNA test done, and I’m almost certain it’s not Aiden’s. Call it intuition or hope…I just don’t believe it’s his. What does she get out of this whole thing, knowing it’s not Aiden’s? What’s her next move? I’m certain she has one planned. She’s not a stupid woman. I’ve looked into her a little more these past few weeks. She earned a Master’s Degree in Interior Design and owns her own successful interior design business. She owned her own home but sold it seven months ago. She comes from money, so she’s not looking for a payout.
“He told her to call him when she goes into labor,” I say, propping my head up with my hand and resting it on the bar. Harper picks up her glass and takes a sip. “She’s called him five times today just to tell him she felt the baby move.” Harper’s head falls, and she shakes it. “I know, you think I’m bad. He’s a basket case right now, and every time the phone rings with her just telling him the baby moved, Max has to intercept before he blows his shit.”
I told him I would take today off to be with him, but he’s being stubborn, not wanting to inconvenience me with Jessie. Too late. We’re good right now, so I didn’t push it, but he still carries the weight of that guilt inside of him.
***
A week late.
A week of insane anxiousness of waiting for one phone call.
The call that hasn’t come. I can’t say I’m surprised. Jessie never tells Aiden when she’s going to the doctor; she only calls him after her checkup.
“Everything is fine,” she says. “The baby just doesn’t want to come out yet.”
Right. I want to scream at her, maybe it’s because you’re lying about your due date. Aiden says it doesn’t matter because they’ll get a DNA test done, regardless. Of course, Jessie has been milking this because she has Aiden’s full attention. But the end is in sight. If she doesn’t have the baby by next week, they are going to induce her.
“Let’s go,” Aiden says, walking into my apartment, slamming the door behind him. I freeze midway from putting a glass in the dishwasher and turn to look at him. He throws his keys on the entry table and strides toward me.
“Um…where are we going?”
Sydney called earlier and said she would take Lexi overnight so Aiden and I could have some downtime. When I talked to Aiden, we decided we would just hang out here and watch a movie.
“Go pack an overnight bag.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. I watch him for a moment before finally putting the glass in the dishwasher. He’s awfully happy. I lean against the counter as he traps me with a hand on either side of me. I cock an eyebrow, wondering what has his mood so light. A carefree smile spreads across his face. “We’re getting out of here. Running away from life.”
I look at him like he can’t be serious. “And where would one run to in order to get away from this so-called life?” The playfulness in his eyes that’s been missing these last few weeks flickers. My hands run up his arms and over his muscular biceps.
“It’s a surprise.”
“You and your surprises,” I say. “Are we going skydiving?”
“No.” He taps my nose with his finger. “But nice try. Go pack an overnight bag.”
“But Lexi. I didn’t tell Syd—”
