Hot Number (Hot Zone Book 2)

by Carly Phillips

  At the thought, his stomach cramped badly.

  “Frankly, Doctor, I think we wasted your time. I already know that Damian is the father and I’m so sorry time was taken away from your other patients to inform us of something we already knew.” She shot the other man a pleading glance.

  For a brief second, Damian almost felt sorry for her, but then he remembered the hell he’d been living with ever since her announcement and her deliberate omission of Carter’s part in her life.

  Rick placed an arm around her shoulder and, though she stiffened, she didn’t pull away. “Babe, you need to face the truth. It’s a crapshoot. Fifty-fifty. Doc?” he asked, turning to the older man.

  Dr. Kernan glanced at the folder in his hand. “As I explained the day we did the test, I extracted the fetal cells from the mother’s blood sample and compared blood types to both possible fathers.”

  “As I said—” Carole began, but Carter cut her off.

  “What do the results show?” he asked.

  Damian held his breath.

  The doctor met Damian’s gaze. “I can guarantee you one hundred percent, you are not nor can you possibly be the baby’s father.”

  Damian blinked, certain he’d heard incorrectly.

  “That’s not possible,” Carole said, her voice trembling with pure fear.

  Her reaction assured Damian he hadn’t misunderstood. “Not mine?” he asked.

  The doctor who’d delivered all of his sisters’ children walked over and put a hand on Damian’s shoulder. “Not yours,” he said, loud and clear.

  Damian forced air into his lungs. It wasn’t easy and he realized he was dizzy. He rubbed his forehead.

  “What are you saying?” Carole asked.

  Damian glanced at Carter, whose face was flushed red. The other man hadn’t asked if he was the father. Carole might claim that she’d only been with both men, but Damian couldn’t help questioning that. Carter wanted this baby and a life with Carole, for better or for worse, Damian thought wryly. Would the rookie be disappointed in life yet again? At least he couldn’t blame Damian this time.

  He drew a deep breath and rose before the doctor could announce the next set of results. “I think this is where I take my leave.” Damian turned to his teammate. “Good luck,” he said and, avoiding Carole’s gaze, he headed for the door.

  He didn’t want to be around to witness either Carter’s triumph or his humiliation.

  It wasn’t his business. Not anymore.

  * * *

  Carole’s hands shook as Damian walked out the door without sparing her a glance. He disappeared along with her hopes and dreams for a solid future for herself and her baby. It wasn’t that she couldn’t support herself. She could. She always had. And it wasn’t that she was in love with the man. If love were the sole criterion for security, she’d lasso Carter and marry him today.

  The doctor stood before them, that damning folder in his hand.

  “So it’s a done deal?” Carter asked. “It’s mine?”

  A wave of dizziness swept over her and she lowered herself into the nearest chair. The doctor came up behind her and eased her head down slowly until it rested between her legs.

  “Easy,” Dr. Kernan said. “Just stay in this position for a bit.”

  “Are you okay?” Rick leaned down beside her. “I already told you we’ll get through this together, and that was before Damian was out of the picture. We’re gonna be fine, babe,” he said in a reassuring voice.

  A lump rose in her throat. Carter’s words only made her feel that much worse. The poor man had too much faith in her, Carole thought. She didn’t deserve for him to love her. She didn’t deserve for him to care.

  It didn’t matter that she’d learned her lesson about chasing fantasy instead of reality. It didn’t matter that she’d learned the hard way she should have valued herself and her body enough to hold out for a man who truly cared instead of settling for scraps from the big stars.

  She’d sacrificed her self-respect long ago. After watching Damian walk out of the room, she now promised herself to start fresh. She’d make a life for herself and her baby, and it’d be a better one than her mother had been able to give her. There’d be no men wandering through at all hours and there’d be nourishing meals on the table. She’d see to it.

  Though her heart pounded in her chest, she was starting to regain her composure. Carole slowly lifted her head. “Let’s do this,” she said, wanting the official announcement over with.

  Dr. Kernan flipped his folder closed. “Congratulations,” he said, his gaze meeting Carter’s. “You’re the proud father-to-be.”

  “Woo hoo!” Carter pumped his fist in the air and the doctor laughed. “So is it a boy or girl?” Carter asked.

  Dr. Kernan slapped Carter on the back. “I know you’re excited, but why don’t we ask the mother whether she wants to know the sex?”

  Carole was still focusing on taking deep breaths and trying mentally to get herself and her life in order. She was going to be the mother of Carter’s child, and she was going to be a mother who set a fine example for her…

  “What is it?” she asked the doctor.

  “You’re having a girl. Congratulations.”

  A broad grin spread across Carter’s face as Dr. Kernan shook first his hand, then Carole’s.

  “You folks have been through a lot. I’d urge you to get some old-fashioned family counseling for the baby’s sake, if not your own. I can recommend some names, if you’d like. Think about it and get back to me.” He placed his pen into the pocket of his white coat. “In the meantime, good luck. I suggest you contact an OB of your choice and begin regular appointments if you haven’t already,” he said, his gaze focused on hers.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, embarrassed at how she’d been behaving, mortified at insisting Damian was the father when she knew he might not be.

  The doctor nodded and walked toward the door. “Feel free to use my office for a bit if you need to,” he said and strode out, leaving Carole and Carter alone.

  “I always thought I’d have a boy,” Carter said, still in shock at all of Dr. Kernan’s revelations. His kid. His baby girl.

  “Are you disappointed?”

  For the first time, Carter heard uncertainty in Carole’s voice and fear underlying her words. “Not disappointed. Surprised. Excited. Anxious, too,” he admitted.

  “Yeah. Well, I think we both are.” She paused and glanced down. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want you to be the father.”

  “Yeah, it was.” But to his surprise, he wasn’t bitter. “In an odd way I get it. Fuller has money and prestige and with him you wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”

  She swallowed hard. “I was stupid. Up until the last second, I was an idiot. First of all, you should know that my job is a good one with decent benefits. We’ll be okay.”

  “Babe, I have enough faith in myself for both of us. I’ll go through arbitration and make good money. My stats this year have been phenomenal. My agent’s sure things’ll go well. By the time I’m up for free agency—”

  She rose to her feet. “I can’t count on you to support us. Baseball’s uncertain. Look at Damian. He hasn’t played in weeks. You can’t know what’s going to happen.”

  Carter knew her past and fear of living on welfare were behind her words, not a deliberate desire to hurt him. “I’ve learned that life doesn’t come with guarantees. But I can promise to try and do my best by you both. And I will.”

  A tear dripped down her cheek. “You’ve become a really good guy. You deserve so much better than me.”

  “I’m the same guy who called the press about your pregnancy, remember? Don’t go painting me with some angelic brush, okay? We’re alike. We’ll be fine.”

  “This baby could have been Damian’s,” she reminded him and turned away, obviously not wanting to face him.

  He grabbed her arm gently and turned her around. “That was the past. We’re looking to the future now. And I lov
e you.”

  She shook her head. “You’re the dad, Carter. Let’s not push our luck and try to make ourselves into some big love story, okay? Neither one of us has done anything to deserve a happily-ever-after.”

  Rick cupped her cheek in his hand. “That’s where you’re wrong. We created this baby. That’s the beginning of a new life. Hers…and ours.”

  But even as he spoke, Carter knew Carole was far from believing in him, in them or in their future.

  * * *

  Not his kid. What had been the sole focus of Damian’s life for weeks now suddenly had nothing to do with him. Damian wasn’t sure how long he spent on the streets of Manhattan, dazed and confused by the news. Considering how fortunate he’d been in life up until now, he sure as hell hadn’t expected to be sitting under a horseshoe when the test results had come in. He’d gotten lucky.

  So why didn’t he one hundred percent feel that way? Instead of the pure elation he should have been experiencing, Damian felt empty, almost as if a void existed where fear had once lived and breathed. Damned if he understood his reaction, and he walked miles to sort through his emotions.

  He glanced up at the familiar face of the building he stood in front of. Somehow, during his walking and reflecting, he found himself outside the Hot Zone offices. Micki had been ducking his calls since before the charity event and he’d deliberately given her space after. He hoped with the baby mess behind him, they could go back to being…what? Friends? Lovers? Damian shook his head. Like everything else right now, he figured the answers would come.

  A glance at his watch told him Micki would be at work and he headed inside to share the news. He bypassed the receptionist and headed to her office, stopping at her secretary’s desk.

  “How’s it going?” he asked the woman who’d come to know him pretty well from his visits.

  “See for yourself.” She gestured toward the partially open door.

  He glanced inside, but didn’t let Micki know he was watching.

  “Come.” Micki pulled on the dog’s leash, but the pooch remained stubbornly committed to her current position.

  The dog lay on her back, spread-eagle on the floor.

  “You spoiled, pampered mutt!” Micki growled in frustration. “I will not rub your belly every time I want you to listen to me. It took me fifteen minutes of massaging just to get you out of the apartment to poop this morning and another twenty to get you to leave with me to go to work!”

  Damian chuckled. “Isn’t that just like a lady? Give a hand and next time she’ll take the whole arm.”

  Micki glanced up, startled. Once the shock evaporated, a warm glow of appreciation spread across her face.

  It was definitely a look that said it’s nice to see you, Damian thought. The feeling was definitely mutual.

  “Apparently, Noodle’s from the upper, spoiled class.”

  He chuckled. “Either that or she’s just missing your uncle.”

  Micki raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “He’s crotchety and cranky, and that’s on a good day. Oh, and did I mention he lied? The dog is not trained to help people. She flunked doggy school.”

  “But she loves your uncle for who he is.”

  Micki laughed, a light, appealing and definitely arousing sound. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to see her—see her happy and enjoying life—until right now.

  “You’ve got a good point. And I’m going to ignore her until she starts doing things my way. Either that or I’ll have to say to hell with the rules and deposit the dog at the rehab facility because I can’t take much more of this.” She walked back toward her desk, motioning for Damian to come inside. “So, what are you doing in my neck of the woods?” she asked lightly.

  Too lightly, Damian thought. In fact, for a woman who’d ducked out on him two weeks ago, she was acting awfully pleased to see him now. And that was the key word, Damian thought. Acting. The distance she’d been deliberately placing between them was more real than the smile on her face at the moment.

  “I’m here to share some news.” He lowered himself into a large chair across from her desk. He was disturbed that he didn’t feel as emotionally free as he should and wished he understood the heaviness still in his heart.

  Micki took in Damian’s conflicted expression. “What’s going on?” she asked, suddenly on guard.

  Micki had been counting the days, even if she wouldn’t admit it aloud, and she knew it was time. There’d only be one piece of news Damian could possibly want to share.

  “The test results are in and…”

  Micki leaned over her desk, her heart racing, her throat dry. “And?”

  “It’s not mine,” he said, obviously still in shock. “All this time and energy, all this fear and anticipation and the baby isn’t mine.”

  “That’s fantastic!” she said, rising and coming around the desk before she could stop herself. “Damian, this is the best news!” She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tight because not only did she think he needed the support and physical contact, but because she knew she needed it even more.

  “Yeah, it is.” His hugged her back, his face buried in her neck, his scruffy half beard rubbing her skin.

  God, he turned her on, she thought, wishing they could act on the feelings instead of having the all-important discussion that was necessary. The one they’d been destined to have once he finally received the test results.

  She stepped back and leaned against her desk. “You know, I had no doubt you’d have made a great father if it came to that.”

  His lips turned up in a grim smile. “That was probably the one thing that got me through. Your faith in me when I had none in myself.”

  She shrugged, embarrassed her feelings about him were so obvious. “I’m glad to have helped. I’m also glad it turned out the way you wanted it to.”

  “Yeah. Funny thing about that,” he began.

  “Wait, okay? There’s something more I have to say.”

  He shifted in his seat, getting more comfortable. “Okay. Shoot.”

  Micki drew a deep breath. “First I just want to make sure you realize we need to schedule a press conference of sorts or release a statement and get your words out there first. We want this story to end with your spin on it, nobody else’s.”

  He nodded. “That’s fine. PR is your area. I’ll do whatever you say.”

  “Good,” she said. “Good.” Easy clients were the best ones. Now for the harder part. She reached back and grabbed a pencil, grateful for something to hold on to, and she rolled it between her palms. “When you speak to reporters, whenever that is, they’re going to ask about your future plans. You may think they mean baseball, but they’ll be talking about your personal life.”

  Damian burst out laughing. “At this point, I have nothing to hide.”

  “All you need to remember is that you learned from the experience, you realize you are a role model to your fans, you’re sorry if you disappointed anyone and you intend to go on from here.”

  “I’m sure I can handle that,” he said soberly.

  The situation with Carole had obviously scarred him, but Micki had no doubt his relief would give way as he reacclimatized himself to his life. She vividly remembered his words back on the island, a time that felt so long ago, she might have been a different person. You need to know that any partner I’ve ever been with knows the score and agrees to play by my rules.

  Who knew his rules would hurt so much?

  “One last thing.”

  He tipped his head to one side. “What would that be?”

  “When you resume your…umm…former lifestyle, you should try to be discreet for a while. Don’t let the media catch you at clubs picking up women. It’ll look like you didn’t mean it when you said you were sorry and you knew you’d dodged a bullet.”

  “Clubs and women?” he asked as if he’d never considered the notion.

  He was probably too stunned by the test results to have had time to think, but she knew the inevi
table would happen. Micki swallowed hard. Letting him go and meaning it were two different things.

  She had to say the words out loud. “Come on, you’re Damian Fuller. You made enjoying life and winning baseball legendary. The scandal’s behind you. Don’t tell me you haven’t been itching to get back to living.”

  “Living, huh?”

  She forced a laugh at the way he repeated her words. “You’re definitely still in shock.”

  He shook his head hard. “You could say that. Speaking of living, want to get dinner tonight?”

  “I’m sorry, but once I catch up on work, it’s my night to visit Uncle Yank.”

  He shrugged. “Okay, how about I go with you?”

  “I’m not sure that’s how you want to spend your first official night of freedom. Go celebrate,” she urged him.

  He might have gotten used to lying low, but she knew the time would come when he’d be ready to resume a normal life. It wouldn’t do her any good to be around him more than necessary.

  He blinked, staring off into space, as if he were thinking things through. “Yeah, I guess you have a point. The sooner I get back to ‘normal,’ the sooner I’ll feel like myself again.”

  Her smile actually hurt. “That’s the spirit. So…do you want to go for a press conference or a press release to announce the results?”

  “I vote for a release. I’m really not up to dealing with reporters right now.”

  She nodded in understanding. “They’ll find you eventually, but I think it’s a smart move for the time being.” She jotted some notes on the pad she always kept on her desk. “I’ll take care of it,” she promised.

  It was probably the last thing she’d do in her capacity as publicist in charge of Damian Fuller, Micki thought. Once they wrapped up this issue, she intended to turn him over to Annabelle or Sophie, either of whom could easily coordinate with Uncle Yank and Spencer Atkins on Damian’s professional future.

  He rose to leave, pausing where she leaned against the desk. “Goodbye, Micki.”