by Sarah Smith
Brock’s formal speech fascinated Mia. He hadn’t spoken to her in such a manner. Rather, he’d been amiable and friendly to her, in tone and in action.
“Certainly,” Ms. Horowitz replied, staring at Mia with disdain as she took in her button up shirt, jeans, and boots. “I’ll just wait here.”
Brock walked out of the room without acknowledging her words. Brenda hovered near the door and closed it soundly, not quite a slam, but very close. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she shrugged. “The doors sometimes stick around here.”
Her rolled his eyes and turned to Mia. “Mia, I apologize. Ms. Horowitz showed up unexpectedly, and I have to deal with her.”
“Is everything okay?” Mia asked, looking from him to Brenda, who obviously had no intention of walking away.
“Of course.” His smile was genuine and handsome, and she returned it. “Brenda, will you show Mia her room? I shouldn’t be too long, then we can go for a ride.”
“Sounds good,” Mia answered.
He looked around the front hall. “You brought your things with you, right?”
“Yes. I left them in the car. I was under the impression that the woman in your office was another reporter. Didn’t know if you were giving your interview to her, so….” She left the thought hanging, lifting her hands in a who knows gesture.
“Mia, you get the interview.” Before he could stop himself, he touched her cheek with the tips of his fingers, forgetting that his aunt was watching close by.
Mia didn’t move away. They stared into each other’s eyes for several seconds before Brenda coughed to remind them of her presence. Mia looked down, and Brock dropped his hand. When she looked at him again, he was grinning.
“You like me, don’t you?” he teased.
“No,” she lied, her eyes giving her away when she looked down and to the left.
“Liar,” he challenged. “I can’t wait to spend some time with you, Mia. I know you want to be all professional, but that’s just not going to happen.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek, much to her astonishment. “Be ready to go for that ride. You can ride a horse?”
“Of course I can. I’m from Texas, after all,” Mia announced. Her bravado did not cover her shock at his behavior, nor the fact that she had enjoyed it.
He chuckled and looked at Brenda. “She’s fireball, huh?” He turned and walked back into the office, closing the door quietly behind him.
Brenda and Mia exchanged a glance, and Brenda said rather gruffly, “Well, if you’re going to start dating him, you might as well call me Brenda.”
“I don’t know that I’m going to start dating him,” Mia defended.
Brenda shook her head. “There’s a spark between the two of you. I don’t like it, and I won’t apologize for being rude to you. But even I can’t deny it. You shouldn’t either.”
“You’re a downright romantic, aren’t you, Brenda?” Mia deadpanned.
“Sometimes.”
“Why were so, um, for lack of a better word, so rude to me?” Mia asked before Brenda could move away.
Brenda stared at her for a moment. “Women come and go around here, and not because Brock asks them to. He’s good looking and he’s filthy rich. I don’t want a woman around him who only wants him for his money.”
“I make plenty of money doing what I do. I don’t need a sugar daddy,” Mia told her. “I understand your need to be protective, but it’s wasted on me.”
Brenda stared at her again, measuring the truthfulness in Mia’s claim. Finally she was satisfied, nodded at Mia but remained near the office door rather than taking Mia upstairs.
Mia asked, “Should I get my bags?”
“Are you kidding? What kind of reporter are you?” Brenda asked. She grabbed Mia’s hand again and pulled her closer to the door. “We’re going to eavesdrop.”
“Eavesdrop?” Mia whispered, scandalized. “We shouldn’t do that!”
“Oh yes, we should. I want to know what has brought that snotty woman to my house,” Brenda replied forcefully, staring at the door as if she could see through it. She leaned closer and put her fingers to her lips. Her eyes widened briefly, and she gestured for Mia to lean in.
Mia looked around as if she was afraid someone would catch them snooping, even though no one was in the house but the two of them. Against her better judgment, she leaned against the door and put her ear to it, her face only inches from Brenda’s. Together, they listened in silence.
CHAPTER NINE
With their ears pressed to the door, Mia and Brenda made eye contact. Mia felt a little guilty about eavesdropping, like a bad reporter who can’t get a story any other way. But she had to admit she was curious. Brock’s voice was clearer than the woman’s, probably because she had her back to the door, but if Mia strained, she could hear their conversation,
“I’m here on behalf of Sandy Franklin. I believe you’ll recognize that name,” Carly murmured.
Mia cursed the woman for her quiet voice and could tell Brenda was doing the same thing as she pushed her ear harder to the door. Mia was just grateful that the door wasn’t too thick.
“Sandy Franklin . . .” Brock mused. “Yes. She and I dated for a short time last year. Lovely girl.”
Mia put her hand over her mouth. His sarcastic tone made her want to giggle. Brenda pantomimed laughing as well.
Ignoring his sarcasm, Carly continued. “As I’m sure you’ll recall, you and Ms. Franklin shared a romantic relationship for approximately three months. Is that correct?”
After a moment of silence, Brock replied, “I’m not exactly sure how long we dated. Three months is probably correct. She lived far away, you know.”
“Yes, Texas to New York is quite a long distance for a relationship,” Carly smirked. “I assume you did not wish to pursue it?”
“You assume correctly, Ms. Horowitz,” Brock answered. Mia noticed he did not use her first name. They were obviously having more of a formal discussion than a personal. “However, she did not wish to pursue the relationship, either.” He mimicked her phrasing, which Mia found hilarious. Again she and Brenda had to cover their mouths to keep the giggles inside. “Ms. Horowitz, I would appreciate it if you would get to the point of your visit. I have a whole list of things to do today, and sitting in my office for idle chit chat is not one of them.”
Carly cleared her throat, affronted. “Of course.” Mia heard the shuffling of papers. “Read it.”
Several moments of silence ensued while Brock read the papers. When he spoke, his voice sounded incredulous. “Is this a joke?”
“It is not,” Carly replied, her voice carrying a tone of sanctimonious righteousness. “Ms. Franklin is pregnant.”
Mia and Brenda gasped simultaneously before slapping their hands over their mouths to keep from being heard. Brenda’s face reddened in fury, and Mia didn’t know what to think. Of course, her reporter’s instincts kicked in, and questions popped into her head. How did he meet this woman? How long ago had this relationship taken place? Was he really the father of this woman’s child? But unlike other reporters, Mia would not print this information without permission, especially if the information was false. She did not work for a gossip site, but if the gossip sites got a hold of this information, Brock would have a real problem on his hands.
“I can read. She’s pregnant. What does that have to do with me?” Brock asked, sounding unconcerned.
Irritation laced the woman’s voice when she answered. “Ms. Franklin claims you are the father.”
“Does she? And how far along is the pregnancy?”
“It says in the paperwork. I believe she told me twenty-six weeks,” Carly answered.
While Brock lifted the paper to check her answer, Mia did some quick calculations. Just over six months.
“You are correct. And if my math skills are up to par, as I’m sure they are, that’s a little over six months.”
“Yes, that’s accurate.”
“Ms. Franklin and I haven’t slept toge
ther in . . .” Mia imagined Brock counting on his fingers. She didn’t know if he actually did that, but to make a point, she bet that’s what he was doing. “Over six months, if I’m thinking correctly.”
“Yes, Ms. Franklin claims she must have been pregnant when the two of you ended your relationship. She did not know at that time.”
“And she waited six months to come to me? Sounds a little sketchy, does it not?”
Carly cleared her throat again, a sign, in Mia’s opinion, of nervousness. “I have no idea why Ms. Franklin chose to wait this long to handle the situation. I made the assumption she had approached you about it and been rebuffed, based on our conversations.”
“I haven’t heard a word from that woman since the breakup,” Brock assured the woman. “Your information is false.”
“That part of my information is false. The fact that you may be the father of Ms. Franklin’s child has yet to be proven or disproven.”
Mia heard Brock’s office chair shift. He was sitting up to speak to her. “Ms. Horowitz, as I told you a moment ago, I haven’t slept with this woman in over six months. The timing is close, but not close enough, for her to be certain I am the father.”
“Ms. Franklin is sure you are the father, Mr. Maclancy,” Carly pushed. “She claims she has slept with no other man besides you since the breakup.”
“She claims, huh?” Brock said, his voice dripping with sarcasm again. The chair shifted once more. “I can claim Ms. Franklin is the only woman I’ve slept with in my entire life, but that doesn’t make it true.”
Carly sighed even louder this time. “Your sarcasm isn’t helping this situation, Mr. Maclancy.”
“What will help the situation, Ms. Horowitz?” Brock asked. “What is it that Ms. Franklin wants?”
“It’s spelled out for you in the paperwork, Mr. Maclancy,” Carly answered.
“This paperwork says she expects a percent of my monthly earnings as child support as well as all medical expenses paid before and after the child is born,” Brock intoned. “Also, she is asking for full custody of said child, which isn’t even born yet. So to sum up, and tell me if my summary is inaccurate, Ms. Franklin expects me to pay her a monthly sum in child support, but she does not plan to allow me to see the child.”
A few moments of silence passed before she replied. “Everything is accurate except she will allow you to see the child. He or she will live with her but will be allowed to visit you on certain occasions.”
Brock laughed. “This is absurd, Ms. Horowitz. If the child is mine, my lawyer will tear this paperwork to shreds. I will have joint custody of the child and will expect standard visitation as the co-parent.”
Mia was impressed by Brock. The man knew the law, even laws that really didn’t affect him at the present.
“However, Ms. Horowitz, I have serious doubts that this child is even mine. I will not give Ms. Franklin a dime until a paternity test has been conducted. I will, of course, pay for the test.”
Mia imagined the woman was angry by this point. Brock had put her in her place, and very easily and quickly.
“Mr. Maclancy, a paternity test before the child is born is invasive and expensive. For the child’s sake, it is better to wait until he or she is born.”
“Then we will wait for that glorious day when I may or may not be a father,” Brock told her.
Carly tried again. “Mr. Maclancy, Ms. Franklin has already incurred high medical fees. She has had a high-risk pregnancy and has not been able to work.”
“You have a choice, then. Have the paternity test done now. The procedure is not invasive or harmful to the child. Perhaps to the mother, but that is not my concern. If Ms. Franklin chooses to wait until the child is born and he or she is actually mine, I will reimburse her for medical expenses, as long as she has receipts.”
“Mr. Maclancy, you are putting me, and Ms. Franklin, in a very difficult position,” Carly said, her voice vibrating with anger.
“And you, Ms. Horowitz, are attempting to put me in a difficult position. If the child is mine, I will do everything in my power to take care of it. But I won’t be taken by a woman who wants a free ride because she claims she’s having my baby.”
Mia heard Brock’s chair creak as he stood. She looked at Brenda, who held her hand up to stop her from moving just yet. She lifted a finger in a “one-more-second” movement and pressed her ear against the door again.
“Ms. Horowitz, please offer my congratulations to Ms. Franklin,” Brock said, obviously dismissing the woman. “Please contact my lawyer with any further inquiries about this issue. Here’s his card. If a paternity test is scheduled, I’ll need a three-day notice to make travel arrangements.”
Brock and the woman began walking to the door. Brenda grabbed Mia’s hand and dragged her down the hall to the kitchen. They turned the corner just as the door to Brock’s office opened. Brenda stood just inside the kitchen so she could hear the end of the conversation. Mia moved and stood right up against her so she could hear it as well.
“We’ll be in touch,” Ms. Horowitz promised as Brock escorted her to the door. “Mr. Maclancy, she’s more than positive you are the father.”
“And when that becomes a proven fact, I will do my duty as the child’s father. You have no need to worry about that,” Brock promised. “Remember, contact my lawyer. Not me.”
The front door closed, and the pair of women scooted away from the kitchen door. Brenda set about making coffee, and Mia leaned against the counter and began a conversation about her job. When Brock walked in, both women looked up, innocent expressions on their faces.
Brock narrowed his eyes. “I suppose there were two pigeons hovering near my office door for the last ten minutes?”
Mia looked away but didn’t speak. Brenda stared at him, appalled. “I do not eavesdrop, young man. I have much more class than that.”
Brock leaned against the counter next to Mia and smirked. He pointed at Brenda and said, “Liar.” He looked at Mia. “What about you? Are you too classy to snoop?”
Mia sniffed. “I am a reporter. I have no class.” Her answer surprised him, and his belly laugh was contagious; Mia and Brenda joined in.
While wiping her eyes, Brenda said, “All right, I’ll admit it. We were listening at the door. And now you have some explaining to do, young man. I’ve never heard of this woman, yet I heard you say you dated her for three months.”
“Brenda, remember when I flew to New York every other week last year?”
She narrowed her eyes and pointed at him. “You’re the liar, Brock Maclancy! You told me you were going up there for business!”
“Business and pleasure,” Brock said, and shied away when Brenda slapped at him with a towel. He winked at Mia, who smiled at their affectionate arguing. “I met her at some charity function. We had some fun together, but I didn’t like flying up there, and she wasn’t willing to come here. So I broke it off. She was too much of a city girl for me anyways.”
Mia looked down, sure he thought the same about her. Then she shook her head slightly; she shouldn’t care what he thought about her. She didn’t want a relationship with him. Right? She cleared her mind and refocused on the conversation.
“Is there a possibility the child is yours?” Brenda asked as she set three mugs of coffee, the sugar bowl, and a cup of cream in front of them.
Brock grabbed a mug and began scooping sugar into it. He asked Mia, “How much sugar?”
“That’s plenty, thank you,” Mia answered. “And a dollop of cream.” He poured in a generous helping, stirred the mixture until it was a soft tan color, and handed it to her. “Thank you, Brock.”
He winked at her and began making his own, continuing his conversation with Brenda, who had watched the exchange with a glint in her eye rather than a glare. “Of course there is a possibility the child is mine, but it’s not a strong possibility.”
“Why not a strong possibility?” Brenda asked.
“The timing sounds off to me. She
’s not far enough along for it to be mine. I could be wrong, though, so the possibility is there.”
“What are you going to do?” Mia asked as she blew on the hot coffee. Brock glanced at her, and she realized she shouldn’t have asked. “I’m sorry. It’s really not my business. And before you ask, none of this will be in the article I write.”
Brock took her hand and squeezed it, another gesture Brenda watched, a small smile forming on her lips. “Don’t apologize. And I know you won’t write about this. You have too much integrity to report something that may or may not be true.”
“Thank you for that,” Mia smiled at him.
He returned his attention to Brenda’s question. “Well, if the child isn’t mine, I’ll do nothing. If it is mine, I’ll do what’s right.”
“You’re not going to marry that woman, are you?” Brenda asked, appalled by the idea.
“Of course not,” Brock answered with a smile. “I meant I’ll take care of the child.”
“Okay, now don’t get mad, but wouldn’t a baby be wonderful around here?!?” Brenda exclaimed.
“No! At least now like that,” Brock returned, disconcerted by her reaction.
“Oh, well, yes, it would be better if you did it the normal way,” Brenda said with a wave of her hand and a pointed look at Mia. “But we haven’t had a baby around here since you were one.”
Mia had seen the look Brenda gave her and so had Brock. Mia’s discomfort was clear in the stiffening of her back. But internally, her thoughts were going a billion miles an hour. Brock was a good man, and a baby the two of them created together would be stunningly beautiful. Dammit, she thought, get those thoughts out of your head!
She was amazed by her thoughts; she’d never had any like them before. To have them about a man she’d known for only a day was so unlike her. She watched as he finished his conversation with Brenda. He was so handsome, and his kindness shone. Mia had a suspicion that even if the child wasn’t his, he would send the mother a monetary gift of congratulations. He was that kind of guy. Forgiving, loving, and hard-working—everything she’d ever wanted in a man.
