Indi waited until the attorney left the room before grabbing the contract. “Ten thousand dollars! I don’t have that kind of money right now.”
“I’ll take care of it.”
“I told you, I don’t want your charity.”
“It’s not charity. Think of it as a loan.”
“What are the terms?”
He didn’t expect Indi to pay him back, but he threw out some conditions.
“Are you serious? I can get better on the street.”
Why did she know that?!
“Maybe, but you wouldn’t. With your work ethic, it would take you years to pay them back.” He shrugged. “But to me, you’re a good risk. I know where Chelsea and Adam live.”
“Don’t you dare ask Chelsea for it! It’s my debt. I’ll pay it.”
He started at her vehement tone. He’d meant it as a joke.
Viv reentered the office. “I’m sorry, but I’m due back in court. If you need more time, feel free to take it with you—”
“No, it’s good.” Indi looked at him then signed her name in an illegible flourish.
Viv scanned the documents. “I want to quickly go over the terms of your bail. This money was paid as a surety for your promise to make all of your court dates. Mr. Black paid it, so your failure to appear means he’ll lose the money he posted for your release.”
“Reason enough to forget a court date,” Indi said under her breath.
Viv’s gaze volleyed between the two of them. “Maybe, but the warrant issued for your arrest is not. And in case you’re wondering, you’d stay in jail until your hearing.”
“For a host of reasons, Ms. Shaw won’t be far from my side,” Mike promised.
“I’ll send Jocelyn in to take your payment and I’ll be in touch early next week.”
“What did that mean, I won’t be ‘far from your side’?” Indi asked as they stood outside the law office, waiting for the elevator. “You can’t hold me hostage.”
“I just paid one hundred and ten thousand dollars on your behalf to an attorney and the state of California!”
“What? You think that means you own me?”
“Ye—” He narrowed his eyes. That was dirty and she knew it.
The corner of her mouth quirked, but she took pity on him. “By the time the court date rolls around, Chelsea will be back. She’ll tell the judge who I am and that I wasn’t trying to steal from them. Problem solved. Case over. You’ll get your money back. It’s not a big deal.”
She was unbelievable! Did she really think their involvement would end with a thank-you and a handshake? If only that were true.
“You’re right, it’s not a big deal. It’s enormous. You wander from place to place, you might be pregnant with my child, and you keep talking about giving him up for adoption. So, for the time being, consider my name Ruth.” At her confused look, he elaborated. “From the Bible. ‘Whither thou goest, I will go.’ ”
Chapter Six
“PREGNANT?”
Mike’s HD monitor showed every forehead crease and brow depression on Jonathan’s shocked face.
“Yes.”
“Is it yours?” Jonathan leaned forward.
“She says it is.”
“Do you believe her?”
The twenty-six-billion-dollar question: had Indi lied to him when she’d said he was the father of her unborn child?
In any other situation, he’d be the embodiment of skepticism. The pregnancy scam—where women claimed to be pregnant by wealthy men to either live off the child support or take a payoff to go away—was well-known and discussed among men of a certain tax bracket, and Mike had always endeavored to avoid situations where he’d be vulnerable. And he’d succeeded.
Until Indi.
But besides the incident of unprotected sex, he knew her regard for Chelsea. And he didn’t believe Indi would risk that relationship, a possibility if she lied to Chelsea’s husband’s best friend. Not for any amount of money.
“I do, but I’m accompanying her to a doctor’s appointment tomorrow. I’ll inquire about a paternity test, just to be certain.”
“Trust but verify, huh?” Jonathan’s brown eyes crinkled at their corners. “I guess that’s the smart thing to do.”
Mike smiled. “I’m not a genius like Adam, but I have my moments.”
Jonathan settled back in his chair, his white chef’s jacket unbuttoned at the neck. His office rocked a utilitarian vibe: white walls, wood-and-steel desk, gray filing cabinets. Not the digs one imagined for a chef, save the colorful drawing of a hectic kitchen at work on the wall above his head. “Speaking of Adam, does he know?”
“About the pregnancy?”
“That you even slept with India in the first place?”
“No. But I did email him with a heads-up that she was in San Francisco.” Among other things. Mike raked his fingers through his hair. “I would’ve told him if I thought it was going anywhere, but she left after our weekend together.”
“Not something you’re used to,” Jonathan said, his tone soft.
Mike thought he detected a vestige of amusement in his friend’s voice, but he ignored it. “She never took my calls, didn’t answer my texts. I’d assumed we were done. And then I got back together with Skylar—”
“I’d forgotten about Skylar. Man, you’re fucked.”
“I know.”
“What are you going to do?”
“My first priority is the baby.” His chest tightened. “Indi doesn’t want to keep it.”
Jonathan shook his head. “I hate to say it, but an abortion would solve your problem.”
“She’s not getting an abortion. The other A—adoption.”
He experienced a fun-house mirror sense of déjà vu. He’d had this same conversation with Indi yesterday, speaking roles inverted.
“Adoption? Well, that’s something you’re familiar with. Your parents adopted Morgan when you were how old?”
“Fourteen.”
“And it turned out well for her. The same thing could happen with Indi’s baby.” But Jonathan’s tone belied the optimism of his words.
As someone whose family benefited from the adoption process, Mike knew this could be a rewarding and positive experience for both the baby and the family fortunate enough to adopt him. The baby would grow up in a stable environment with people committed to loving and providing for him. The family who wanted him would benefit from the blessing of adding to their family and the ability to fulfill their dreams of raising a child. And Indi could take comfort in knowing she’d placed her baby in a safe and attentive home.
And yet, he still couldn’t muster the strength to form the supportive words this choice—and situation—warranted.
“Has she said why she wants to give the baby away?” Jonathan asked.
“No! And that’s what’s frustrating. She won’t talk about her reasoning.”
“This is crazy,” Jonathan said, stroking his jaw. “I’m not saying I know India well, but . . .”
Mike reached for a pencil on his desk, concentrated on not breaking it in half. “I wasn’t aware familiarity was a prerequisite for your sexual affairs.”
Jonathan may not know Indi well, but that day—the day Adam proposed to Chelsea at their house in the San Mateo Mountains—the two appeared to get on like a rock star and his groupie.
Shame thickened his throat. He hadn’t been on his best behavior, had done a first-rate impression of an asshole. People who knew him would agree he was an even-keeled sort of guy, and yet the first time he’d met Indi, he’d been unable to process his attraction to the enigmatic beauty.
Jonathan swallowed. “Dude, if I’d known—”
Mike waved a hand. “Forget it. There was nothing to know. We weren’t involved at that time
.”
“I know, but I don’t want you to misconstrue our interaction. She’s a beautiful woman, but we both knew our interest was only in friendship.”
He couldn’t relate. There was nothing amiable about his feelings toward Indi.
“I find it hard to believe she would give away her child,” Jonathan continued, “for no validly stated reason. Especially considering her upbringing.”
“There’s Morgan’s situation and there’s her own. Indi spent years in the foster care system. Isn’t she curious about her own parents? About why they gave her up? And yet she’s considering the possibility of sentencing her child to the same life of questioning and self-blame.”
Jonathan nodded. “Something’s going on.”
“And I intend to find out what it is.” He set his jaw. “There’s no scenario where I know I have a child out there in the world and I’m not involved in his life.”
What kind of man abdicated his responsibility to others, especially when he had the resources to shoulder it himself? Those weren’t the values his parents instilled in him and that didn’t describe the type of man he wanted to be.
But he’d back burner his predicament for now. Of the three best friends, Jonathan usually possessed a fixed affability, one that was restrained today, despite his best efforts to appear engaged.
“How are things going in DC? I got the pics you sent. That’s an incredible location.”
“Yeah, I’m really psyched about the space.” The words warred with the turbulent expression on Jonathan’s face.
Mike crossed his arms over his chest. “Dude, what’s going on? You’ve talked about opening this restaurant in your hometown for almost a year. You look like you just got disturbing news.”
“I’m thrilled about the restaurant. Determining the concept, the long hours acquiring and training staff, designing the menu and interior . . . it’s exhausting. Still, I’ve never been more certain about a move in my life.”
Mike sensed there was more. “But—”
“Remember last year when I told you Thomas had met someone?”
Jonathan and his brother weren’t close. In fact, in all the years he’d been friends with the talented chef, he’d only met his brother once.
“Yes.”
“Well, I’ve met the special woman.”
Mike hefted a shoulder. “Okay, and—”
“And she’s a piece of work,” Jonathan said, his words rushing together and ending in a huff.
“Really? Care to share some details?”
“Her name is Leighton Clarke and she’s a political lobbyist,” he said, imbuing the title with viscous disgust.
Curious about the strength of Jonathan’s response, Mike pulled out his phone and quickly Googled the woman. His eyes widened. Smooth dark skin, dagger sharp cheekbones, and thickly lashed, tilted eyes the color of espresso. Leighton Clarke was a stunning woman, though she possessed an aura of hardness that slightly diminished her appeal.
“Lobbyists aren’t well regarded,” he said, in an understatement of epic proportions, “but you’re not the one marrying her. It’s likely you won’t have to spend more than the occasional family dinner with the two of them.”
Jonathan sighed and lifted a hand to knead the nape of his neck. “You’re right. It’s none of my business.”
But the vexation on his face bolstered the fact that a resolution wouldn’t be that easy.
A brisk tap on the door and Sully peered around the frame.
“Is this a good time?”
Mike motioned him in. “Yeah, I’m just talking to Jonathan.”
“Yo, J, what’s up?” Sully asked, maneuvering around the desk and perching on the corner.
“Nothing much compared to what’s going on around there.” Jonathan slipped back into his jovial manner with enviable ease.
“I took a date to Quartet last week,” Sully said, referring to Jonathan’s three Michelin-starred restaurant in San Francisco. “It was incredible.”
Jonathan pointed at them through the screen. “That’s what I like to hear. Even in my absence, the place should run smoothly.”
“Did you hear the news about India?” Sully asked.
“Yeah. I can’t believe she’s pregnant.”
“India’s pregnant?” Sully’s head whipped in Mike’s direction.
Mike scrubbed a hand over his face.
“You didn’t know?” Jonathan narrowed his eyes. “What were you talking about?”
“I was talking about her arrest for burglary and Prince Charming over here”—Sully jerked a thumb in Mike’s direction—“bailing her out.”
“What the hell?”
This situation was a prime example of the problem with his continued attraction to, and relationship with, India Shaw. He would never have this conversation about Skylar.
“India’s pregnant.” Sully looked stunned. “Are you the father? How is that going to affect your relationship with Skylar? What about the TTL deal?”
Jonathan failed to hide a wide grin behind his fist. “So it seems worrying about the restaurant was wasted energy. You’re the one who’s gone to pieces since I left.”
“Fuck you.”
“Yeah, fucking me isn’t what got you into this situation. You talk about being involved in this child’s life, if it’s yours. How? If India wants to put the baby up for adoption, it means she doesn’t want to raise him. Or her. Are you prepared to raise a baby?”
“She’s putting the baby up for adoption?” Sully’s gaze bounced between the monitor and Mike.
He clenched his jaw. “Keep up, Sullivan.”
He needed to take his own advice. His life had spiraled out of control in the past twenty-four hours. He was having difficulty keeping abreast of the new developments.
Was he prepared to raise a child?
He had a wonderful life, but it was hectic. He was in charge of the day-to-day operations of a multi-billion-dollar company. He worked long hours and at least once a week he spent the night in his office, showering and changing in the en suite bathroom.
“Why would she do that?” Sully asked.
“I can’t imagine it’s an easy decision to make,” Jonathan allowed. “Maybe she feels it’s the right thing for the baby.”
Mike couldn’t hold his tongue. “Better than the baby being raised by its father?”
Sully pulled his ear. “How would she know you’re interested in having a baby? I wouldn’t intuitively think of you as the family type.”
“But I am. At least, I will be if it’s my kid we’re talking about.”
“So you would be willing to adopt the baby?” Jonathan pressed him.
“You’ll need to talk to an attorney who specializes in family law,” Sully said. “But we’re skipping over a lot of current problems. What about Skylar? Putting aside the possibility of a negative effect on your personal relationship with her, you were very excited about moving forward with the digital entertainment branch of Computronix. An end to your relationship with her will affect those goals.”
What about Skylar? He didn’t know if she was interested in having children, let alone raising someone else’s child. He knew from experience her schedule was just as demanding as his.
Sully shook his head. “You have a lot to consider. I don’t envy you.”
Jonathan clapped his hands together. “As entertaining as this soap opera is, I’ve got to turn the channel. I have a meeting with an organic hand soap vendor about an order for the restaurant. You guys will fly out for the grand opening in a few months, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Sully said.
“Excellent. Oh and, Mike?”
“What?” He practically growled.
“Have you told your father?”
Jonathan’s humorous expr
ession blacked out before the pencil bounced off the monitor.
“Bastard,” Mike muttered.
Sully’s laugh turned into a serious throat-clearing session. Mike glanced at him. “What do you want?”
“Checking to see if you and India made it to Viv Sutton’s office.”
“We did. Thanks for the referral. We retained her services.”
“Excellent.” Sully remained seated.
He shot his friend a prompting look. “Is there anything else?”
Sully ran his palms down the front of his pants. “Did she, uh, mention me?”
Mike’s gaze narrowed on the other man.
Ryan Sullivan was a shark, the kind of attorney who made other lawyers nervous when they discovered he was their opposition on a case. And yet that man was sitting here bouncing his knee and scraping the back of his neck raw, torturing Mike with the verbal equivalent of passing notes in homeroom?
He recalled Viv’s odd demeanor when Indi had questioned her about Sully. “Something going on between the two of you?”
“No. Not yet,” Sully said, his jaw set, his tone a guarantee their not being together was just the jumping off point to start negotiations. He stood.
Mike held out a hand. “Before you go, what can you tell me about adoption?”
Sully shifted his weight onto his back foot. “Not much. Although I know a little about family law, it’s not my practice area.”
Shit.
“Are you wondering about the process in general or your rights in relation to it?”
“The latter.”
Sully sat in the chair he’d just vacated. “J asked if you were considering adopting the baby yourself. Are you?”
YES!
The word wanted to vault from his throat and burst into the room like fireworks during a summer celebration.
Again, his father’s voice urged caution. “Your worst battle is between what you know and what you feel. Choose knowledge.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m not comfortable giving advice on a legal matter outside my expertise. So use this for informational purposes only. If India lists you as the father on the birth certificate, you’re automatically imbued with rights to your child. You won’t need to adopt him.”
Along Came Love Page 7
