“You suckered me in. This is why I like pinball. No one dies in pinball.” She stormed out of the room.
If having blue balls didn’t kill him, her mood swings might.
But before he even got to his recliner, he knew the first thing on his agenda tomorrow would be to find a pinball machine for her. The room was big enough to house one without cramping his space. He wanted her to be happy. If lights and bells would work, he’d make it happen.
The doorbell rang, startling him from his thoughts. He wasn’t expecting anyone and Indy never had guests. He stood and then made his way down the hall, but the person impatiently rang again.
Indy yelled from the bottom of the stairs, “Got it.”
She was supposed to be in bed, and he wanted to make sure she headed in that direction. When he got to the stairs, the sight in front of him stole his breath.
Malcolm.
Indy stood smiling up at him, looking so much like Selena had ten years ago. He shook his head to remove the image. Indy was not Selena.
“How are you doing, son?” Malcolm asked him.
Indy spun and with wide eyes said, “Oh, shit.”
Griffin’s jaw muscles clenched and he ground out, “Give us a moment, please, Indy.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled, and turned to go upstairs.
He jammed his hands in his pockets and said to Malcolm, “I told you never to call me that.”
Malcolm hovered in the doorway. “So you did. Can I come in?” “How did you find me?”
“You’re not difficult to track down. I followed you from the office yesterday when you didn’t answer at your condo.” He gestured to the interior of the house again.
Griffin stepped back from the door and closed it quietly once his father entered. He didn’t even pretend to be hospitable. No offer of drinks or a seat. Griffin just wanted him gone. “Why are you here? I made it clear months ago that you wouldn’t be getting any more money from me.”
“I know that’s what you said, but I thought you might change your mind.”
“I haven’t.”
Malcolm smirked. “Haven’t learned much in ten years, have you? Another one knocked up. You’re not parading this one in front of the cameras. Are you sure it’s yours?”
He grabbed a fistful of Malcolm’s shirt and shoved. “Get the fuck out of my house and don’t ever show your face here again.”
Malcolm smacked against the door before fumbling for the handle.
“You’re making a mistake, treating me this way. You’ll regret it.” The man slipped through the door.
“I doubt it.” Griffin slammed the door and bolted it. What the hell was he supposed to do now? He should probably call Kendra. And say what? He’d never told her about his father. It was one of the few secrets he’d kept.
He wanted a stiff drink, but he heard soft footsteps and knew it should wait. What could he say to Indy?
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Rage trembled through every muscle. He couldn’t do this. He’d never talked about his father with anyone. The burn of whiskey called to him. He walked down the long, dark hall to his office and pulled the bottle from the side cabinet. Unfortunately, Indy followed.
“I thought you didn’t know your father.”
“I wish I didn’t.” He slugged a shot, keeping his back to the door, to Indy, blocking her out.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.” It came out sharper than he’d intended, but he couldn’t muster the energy to care.
A sigh slipped out, but she didn’t leave. He felt her staring at him.
“I—”
Without turning, he said, “I want to be alone.”
If he looked at her he’d want her comfort, and he couldn’t afford that. He feared taking this out on her. Dragging her into his mess.
“Okay.” Hurt sounded through her quiet voice.
He heard her shuffling away. “Indy.”
“It’s fine, Griffin. You don’t owe me any explanations. I thought that since you do so much for me, I could at least offer to listen. Good night.”
Wasn’t that a punch in the gut? Guilt tugged at already strained nerves. He should probably go after her, but he couldn’t trust himself. The anger would come out, and she didn’t deserve it. She needed to stay calm. Nothing having to do with his father reflected calm. He gulped another shot of whiskey. The less Indy knew, the better off she’d be.
Indy was ecstatic to get her life back. The doctor had finally cleared her. She could go back to school and run basic errands, as long as she didn’t overdo it, which meant no going back to O’Leary’s.
She needed to find a job, something that wouldn’t require hours of standing, and she also needed to find a place to live. Griffin hadn’t asked her to go; just the opposite, in fact. He’d done everything he could to make her feel like this gorgeous house was her home. In her dreams.
She checked the time. The kids would be here soon. This would be an awesome surprise for Griffin. She hoped.
The computer lab hadn’t been touched since construction had been completed. Griffin said equipment would arrive later in the week. He wanted to keep it utilitarian, but this bordered on ridiculous.
The slate-gray walls would bore even the simplest of office drones. He wanted to inspire these kids to create and learn. They’d be stifled in this room. She remembered the notes she’d sketched out after meeting the kids. She needed to finish this room before moving out. Griffin wouldn’t take any money from her, and she wanted to show her gratitude. Including the kids would give them a chance to say thanks as well.
The doorbell rang, and Indy opened the door to twelve eager faces. Who knew teens would get so excited about keeping a secret? She’d asked for Ryan’s help in reaching out to the kids, and she’d been in touch with them for over a week now, making plans to redecorate and celebrate with the kids and Griffin.
As the kids poured into the lab, she tried to describe her plan. She’d already sketched on the walls and the kids laughed.
Marisol stepped forward from the crowd. “Are you sure about this? Mr. Griffin is okay with it?”
“He’ll love it.” She hoped. His words echoed in her head about how he’d hate someone changing his space without permission. But this felt right.
Indy showed the kids what to do. She opened the windows to the cool evening breeze and handed each kid a can of spray paint. Once they got the idea, the kids got to work and she sat on a chair in the middle of the room wearing her dreaded respirator. She supervised color choice and eavesdropped on their conversations.
Thick bubble letters took shape into words, ideas, messages. Around the room, bold graffiti-style letters screamed the mission statement for Griffin’s foundation: Power, Respect, Learning, Self-Confidence, Strength, Resilience. In smaller block letters, scattered throughout the room, she’d written every computer-related term she could think of. The room became magical.
Hours later, the doorbell rang again and she knew the pizza arrived, which meant Griffin wouldn’t be far behind. She swung the door open and stared at Griffin, who held a stack of pizza boxes.
“I know you’re pregnant and all, but why did you order so many pizzas?”
“Hey, you’re early.” She stepped toward him, which forced him back onto the porch. “Don’t be mad. It was all my idea.”
He got an oh, shit look on his face. “What?”
“The kids are here.”
“What kids?”
“Your kids. The program kids. Marisol, Duane, all of them.” She took a deep breath. “We wanted to surprise you. So even if you hate it, pretend for them, okay? They worked really hard.”
“What’s going on, Indy?” His voice took on a serious tone.
“Trust me,” she whispered. She took the pizzas from him and led the way back into the house. “Hey, everyone. Pizza’s here and so is Griffin.”
The teens all froze in place. They’d completed the room and started cleaning up the emp
ty cans and brushes. Indy put the pizza down on a table and waited for Griffin’s response. She watched and wondered if she’d be able to tell if he was upset.
He greeted the kids and looked at the walls. “So, you guys decided to vandalize my home, huh?”
The kids looked stricken and turned on her with mouths open. How could he do this to them? She saw the glimmer in his eye and heard the humor in his voice, but they didn’t get it.
Indy smacked his arm. “Stop messing with them. What do you really think?”
“It looks great.”
The crowd in front of her released a collective sigh. They were so afraid of disappointing him.
Duane, in his usual swagger, sauntered forward. “I knew you were playin’. I’m starving. Are we gonna eat or what?”
Indy tilted her head toward the pizza. “Dig in.”
While the kids converged on the food, she took Griffin’s elbow. “Do you really like it?”
“Yes. It fits who they are, yet it’s positive. How did you manage this? You’re supposed to be in bed.” He slid his arm around her shoulder in a move that was beginning to feel natural.
“First, the doctor gave me the all clear today. I’m free to get back to my life as long as I don’t overdo it. Second, the kids did most of the work here. I laid it out and got them started. Then I did what I’ve gotten so good at: I sat on my ass.”
His gaze roamed the walls as he read the words and message. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I did. You’re always doing things for me. I wanted to repay you.”
“No one’s keeping score. I’m glad the doctor cleared you.” He paused and looked like he was going to say something else, but Duane bumped him.
“Better get some food before it’s gone.”
Griffin smiled. “We’re coming.” He spun them both, his arm still around her, and headed into the fray of a dozen noisy teens.
Indy knew she’d miss this. Seeing Griffin at ease and laughing, part of a family. An odd-looking family, but they were his. She swallowed past the lump in her throat and bit into a piece of pizza. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with it.
The following afternoon, Indy set her focus on finding a new place to live. She felt like such a sponge living in Griffin’s house and contributing nothing. She had enough money for a down payment on a house, and as tempting as that was, she knew she couldn’t get a loan without a job. Plus, she’d need the money for hospital bills and baby stuff. The weight of everything pulled at her. Afternoon passed into evening, and she heard the front door open and then slam.
Griffin came into the living room looking pissed off. She never knew how to handle angry Griffin. He looked like he needed a good fight, but he continuously backed away from any confrontation with her. He wasn’t himself.
“Bad day?”
“Yes.”
“Want to talk about it?” She straightened in her seat on the couch.
He sat next to her and rubbed his temples. “A reporter called today for an interview. Kendra cleared it, and then I was blindsided when . . .”
“When what?”
He shoved off the couch and paced. “I thought it was over, that I could keep this from touching you.”
A worried ball of anxiety sank in her stomach. Her hands rested protectively across her belly. “What?”
“Malcolm is still fucking up my life.” He returned to the couch.
“Remember when I told you a woman once told me she was pregnant?”
Indy nodded but didn’t speak, not wanting to stop him. He was finally opening up.
“Her name was Selena. When I accused her of lying about the baby being mine, she killed herself.”
“I know.”
He looked into her face for the first time. “How?”
“When I took that woman Michelle for a tour of the city while you tried to hire her husband, she mentioned it. Why is this a big deal?”
“Because I’m going public with the foundation and the program in a month.”
Debating her reaction, Indy reached out and softly touched his hair. “You had to know it would probably happen. How is it news anyway?”
“Selena’s father is a former senator. It made the news when it happened. He resigned shortly after her death, so the connection between us hasn’t been made. With enough digging, anything can be found. The reporter wanted to know why people should trust me with their children when I had so adamantly denied Selena’s child and she was a woman I supposedly loved.” He scrubbed at his head.
“How can you be the bad guy? You didn’t kill her. And I know you. You wouldn’t have denied the baby unless you had reason to believe she lied.”
He calmed, but she still saw the anger simmering. He pointed to her laptop and narrowed his eyes. “What’s that?”
The rapid change of subject caught her off guard. “The doctor cleared me, so I’m looking for a part-time job and a new place to live.”
“What?” The simmer blazed to boil.
“It’s not that I’m ungrateful. I’ve loved living here, but it was supposed to be temporary.” She closed her laptop and stood. She’d known he wouldn’t like her leaving. But it was time for her to stop being selfish.
“The fuck it is. You’re not leaving with my baby.”
Her heart seized with panic. “This isn’t your baby.”
“You want to talk about lies? How about you finally tell me why you lied about the baby being mine?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve never lied to you about this baby.”
“I went to see Burke.”
Her heart jumped into her throat and threatened to choke her.
“What? When?”
“When you were in the hospital. You refused to ask for help. I thought he had a right to know there were complications with his baby. He also had a responsibility to help you.”
Her blood raced and her stomach sank. Oh, God. She wanted to be angry. She wanted to yell, but the fear overtook her.
“You have nothing to say? Not even another lie?”
She sat on the edge of the couch. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She’d never felt such desperation. Richard would come for her baby. “I didn’t lie to you. I lied to Richard.”
His voice was a low growl. “Show me the ultrasound.”
“Why? I can tell you what it says. According to the doctor, I managed to conceive during the time I didn’t sleep with anyone. The date is after I broke up with Richard, and I used it to my advantage. I don’t want him near my baby. But the date is before we slept together. I didn’t lie to you.”
“But you’ve known for months the baby might be mine.”
She stood and stared at him. “Richard poked holes in condoms to get me pregnant. You brought your own condoms with you.”
“I usually used my own condoms. Remember that morning in your kitchen? On your table?” He stood still, deceptively calm.
Lord, did she ever. It had been a fabulous way to start her day.
“I used one of your condoms.”
So many questions flooded her brain. New concerns piled on old.
She swallowed hard. The thought had never crossed her mind. “I didn’t know. I had no reason to think . . . Besides, when I got the ultrasound, you were already gone. What was I supposed to do?”
“Answer any one of my calls and tell me. I had a right to know.”
“If I had told you, you’d accuse me of trying to trap you again. I thought it best for me and the baby if I take care of everything myself. It’s not yours.” She pushed around him to get to the stairs.
“So now you’re telling me you lied for me? Bullshit. You lied for yourself. We’ve been working together—hell, living together—and you never said anything. It’s all been about you.”
She froze. He was right, of course. She had been selfish. She wanted to enjoy this time with him, have this chance to feel cared for.
“You’re not leaving. I want to make sure my child is taken care
of. You need to be where I can watch you.”
Acid burned in her gut. “I don’t need you to watch me. My baby is fine.”
“But I don’t know that. It’s not like I can trust your word.”
His distrust shot through her, but she didn’t want to back down. She didn’t need to be taken care of, regardless of how much she enjoyed it. “The chances of this baby being yours are beyond slim. That hasn’t changed. Even if he is, you have no rights until he’s born.”
“You’ll live here until he’s born. Then if he’s not mine, you can go on your way.” He stood, relaxed yet rigid, like he had no idea he was tearing her world apart. “And you have to tell Burke. He has the right to know the truth.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “If I refuse?”
He closed in again. “Then I’ll tell him myself.”
A nasty chuckle battled the fear curdled in her throat and caught. “You wouldn’t . . .” But the look in his eyes told her he would. Empty, unfeeling muddy brown eyes stared her down.
“You son of a bitch. And here I thought Richard would be bad for my baby. You’re no different. No wonder Selena offed herself. She probably couldn’t wait to get away from you.” The verbal slap had the desired effect. Grief stole across his face. She hiccupped and tried to compose herself.
He’d cornered her and she had no options. Except one. The words came out on a shaky breath. “I’ll have the test now.”
“What test?”
“The paternity test.”
His eyes narrowed.
“There’s a test they can do now.”
“Then why haven’t you already done it?”
“I didn’t think I needed it, and there are risks involved. They go in with a needle and withdraw fluid . . .” Just saying the words made her fear more real.
He shifted and crossed his arms.
“I was afraid to have it done because my mother miscarried her first pregnancy, I miscarried, and Quinn had problems. I’ll make the appointment tomorrow. After we get the results, we can address your demands.” She held her shoulders straight and pressed her lips together to prevent the quivering, but she wanted to curl into a ball and cry.
What little strength she had left oozed from every pore. Her fight left. She sidestepped Griffin to avoid contact. She needed air. Every breath barely hitched enough oxygen into her lungs.
A Good Time Page 26
