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“It’s not,” I say, feeling my rage pound through my head. “This is mychild.”
Theodore looks confused. “You are planning to claim paternity?” he says. He gives a small chuckle. “Are you sure it’s yours?”
My fingers fold into fists again. “Shut the hell up,” I tell him, turning away to stop myself from punching him.
“This is quite a messy situation,” he says. “Gigi might not let you waltz into her life and co-parent without putting up a fight.”
I glance at his furrowed brows. He’s right,I realize with a sinking feeling. Gigi told me that making her own family is something for the distant future.
“Let’s talk about damage control,” Theo says, clasping his hands. “The campaign team wants to meet and talk about how this could affect my leading the polls, but…”
“Why didn’t they come with you?” I ask. It’s almost a relief to talk about something besides the pregnancy, even if it is the campaign.
“Well,” Theo replies, his lip twitching, “I thought it wise, you know, in case one of them said something too funny about Gigi, and you thought it funnier to strangle him to death.”
“Fine,” I spit, sitting up. “What does this do to the campaign?”
“We can’t say,” Theo says, looking down at his phone again. “What Alex and Pam did notice was that Georgina Harris has been trending across all social media platforms. People don’t seem too fond of her.”
Only three months ago, I would have been more ecstatic than Theo about Georgina’s downfall. This is a far better revenge than I could have planned.
But right now, I don’t see it that way. My chest burns with the thought that Georgina is out there having to seclude herself from the onslaught of her own career community. And knowing she’s out there while pregnant withmybaby makes me want to rip the head off the person who broke the news to the world.
“It’s funny,” Theo adds, “last month, everyone couldn’t get enough of her. And now, there are Twitter pages posting screenshots of the ‘sickest burns’ of Gigi Harris.”
“Yeah,” I say, my chest growing heavier. Georgina had led a smear campaign against Theodore and me. But the difference is that our wealth and influence protected us. Outside of being a reporter, Gigi has no support.
“With luck,” Theo adds, taking his phone and scrolling through the Twitter app, “all of this should blow over soon.”
I look up, suddenly realizing something. “She told me.”
Theo looks confused. “What?”
“She told me about the pregnancy,” I say. “We weren’t even speaking then. She wouldn’t have bothered to tell me if she wasn’t considering having me in her life.”
Theo stares at me, a pitying look on his face that I immediately despise. “You don’t know that,” Theo says. “Maybe she just needs money.”
“Well,” I say, feeling my anger flare up, “youdon’t know what she is thinking.”
“I do,” Theo says, sounding stunned that I would even say that. “Ifuckingdo. This is Gigi Harris, the girl who wanted to bury both of us. She would never let you be in her life. Especially now. It doesn’t matter what she does after this. Her career is going to be over anyway. Why on earth would she want to deal with you after this?”
I bury my face in my arms, blood vessels on my forehead pulsing rapidly.
I’m in my forties, and Georgina is only in her twenties. Ifwe had a baby together and managedto raise it without killing each other midway, I would be over sixty when the child left for college.
It’s too late to even thinkabout it.
“Let’s go back to damage control,” Theo says. He looks down at his phone, and a sudden frown appears on his face.
“What?” I ask, knowing I’m going to punch the nearest wall if any other bad news appears.
Theo looks at me, his frown deepening. He stays silent, merely sliding the phone over to me.
I glance at the screen. It’s anEnchantéarticle.
Of course,I think, barely holding back my fury as I read the headline.
BRANDON STAWARSKIAND HIS ENEMIES TURNED EXES: A FULL HISTORY
