falls, sinking to the
deepest part of me. “D-does he know?”
“Hell if I know. She won’t tell
us a damn thing, just that the baby is his.”
“I’m sure if he knew, he’d be
there.”
Beckham might be a lot of
things, but I can’t imagine him being a deadbeat father.
“He probably doesn’t know. I’ll
talk to him,” I say.
“Yeah, you do that. And tell
him to man up or I’ll personally see to it he’s paying out the ass for child
support for the next eighteen years.”
My heart races at the thought
of dropping this bomb on him. Here I thought I was saving another broken heart
Beckham left in his path of manwhoring destruction.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I
ask.
“Eva Delgado,” she says. “And
if he wants to talk to her from now on, he’ll go through me.”
“I’ll relay the message right
away.” My fingers quake, weighted by the kind of news I never expected to
deliver.
My legs wobble as I amble back
to the conference room. The walk back feels longer than the one that carried me
to that quiet hall. Beckham and Dane observe with amused smirks as I shut the
door quietly and hand Beckham his phone.
“How’d it go?” Beckham asks.
A long breath drags across my
lips as I sink down into my chair. My bottom lip falls, and my gaze drifts
between theirs.
“Congratulations,” I say.
“What the hell are you talking
about, Odessa?” Beckham laughs.
“You’re going to be a father.”
I search his eyes for a hint of something that tells me he had no idea.
Chapter Fifteen
BECKHAM
It’s impossible.
But at the same time it isn’t.
Nothing rattles me, but I’m
shaking like a leaf and Odessa hasn’t stopped staring at me since this morning.
She’s unusually quiet, and I’m particularly grateful. This situation is none of
her business, and I’m not about to shell out the complicated details.
The plane grounds at JFK, and I
unbuckle my seatbelt before we come to a stop. I’ve got to get the hell out of
here, call my attorney, call Dr. Brentwood and rush to the hospital.
If this kid is in fact mine, I
refuse to miss its birth. I’ll deal with Eva the first chance I get.
Two cabs wait for us at the
tarmac, and I watch Odessa pull away in one as I climb inside mine. I pull up
the number from this morning, the one belonging to Eva’s friend, and call her
back.
“Where is she? Which room?” I
ask the second she answers.
“Is this Beckham?”
“Yes. Where can I find Eva?”
“Room 8174,” she says.
“Pitocin’s been dripping a couple hours. Contractions are starting. Doctor
thinks she’ll be here soon, so get your sorry ass down here.”
“She?”
“Yep. It’s a girl.” I’ve never
felt so much hatred in someone’s voice. Apparently she doesn’t know Eva as well
as I do.
“On my way.” I end the call,
tapping the driver on the shoulder and handing him an extra twenty to step on
it. Spinning through my contacts, I find my attorney’s cell and give him a
call. His voicemail picks up on the first ring. He’s probably in Tahiti or some
shit like that. I scan through my contacts once more, dialing Dr. Brentwood’s
office and telling his secretary that an emergency has come up.
***
“Beckham?” Eva’s covered in a
pale pink gown and a thin, flannel hospital blanket. Wires run from a monitor
around her exposed belly, connecting to a machine spitting out paper with zigzagged
lines. She offers a delirious smile when she sees me. Eva radiates, a healthy
flush on her tan cheeks. “You came.”
Her delicate Argentinian accent
used to make my knees weak and my cock hard. Ever since things went south and
our foray into fuck buddy territory ended with a restraining order, I can’t so
much as think about Argentina without breaking into a cold sweat.
A woman sits in a chair in the
corner, shooting daggers my way. Her arms are folded and she huffs before
looking away. I’m assuming it’s her friend.
“I knew you’d come. I haven’t
seen you
deepest part of me. “D-does he know?”
“Hell if I know. She won’t tell
us a damn thing, just that the baby is his.”
“I’m sure if he knew, he’d be
there.”
Beckham might be a lot of
things, but I can’t imagine him being a deadbeat father.
“He probably doesn’t know. I’ll
talk to him,” I say.
“Yeah, you do that. And tell
him to man up or I’ll personally see to it he’s paying out the ass for child
support for the next eighteen years.”
My heart races at the thought
of dropping this bomb on him. Here I thought I was saving another broken heart
Beckham left in his path of manwhoring destruction.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I
ask.
“Eva Delgado,” she says. “And
if he wants to talk to her from now on, he’ll go through me.”
“I’ll relay the message right
away.” My fingers quake, weighted by the kind of news I never expected to
deliver.
My legs wobble as I amble back
to the conference room. The walk back feels longer than the one that carried me
to that quiet hall. Beckham and Dane observe with amused smirks as I shut the
door quietly and hand Beckham his phone.
“How’d it go?” Beckham asks.
A long breath drags across my
lips as I sink down into my chair. My bottom lip falls, and my gaze drifts
between theirs.
“Congratulations,” I say.
“What the hell are you talking
about, Odessa?” Beckham laughs.
“You’re going to be a father.”
I search his eyes for a hint of something that tells me he had no idea.
Chapter Fifteen
BECKHAM
It’s impossible.
But at the same time it isn’t.
Nothing rattles me, but I’m
shaking like a leaf and Odessa hasn’t stopped staring at me since this morning.
She’s unusually quiet, and I’m particularly grateful. This situation is none of
her business, and I’m not about to shell out the complicated details.
The plane grounds at JFK, and I
unbuckle my seatbelt before we come to a stop. I’ve got to get the hell out of
here, call my attorney, call Dr. Brentwood and rush to the hospital.
If this kid is in fact mine, I
refuse to miss its birth. I’ll deal with Eva the first chance I get.
Two cabs wait for us at the
tarmac, and I watch Odessa pull away in one as I climb inside mine. I pull up
the number from this morning, the one belonging to Eva’s friend, and call her
back.
“Where is she? Which room?” I
ask the second she answers.
“Is this Beckham?”
“Yes. Where can I find Eva?”
“Room 8174,” she says.
“Pitocin’s been dripping a couple hours. Contractions are starting. Doctor
thinks she’ll be here soon, so get your sorry ass down here.”
“She?”
“Yep. It’s a girl.” I’ve never
felt so much hatred in someone’s voice. Apparently she doesn’t know Eva as well
as I do.
“On my way.” I end the call,
tapping the driver on the shoulder and handing him an extra twenty to step on
it. Spinning through my contacts, I find my attorney’s cell and give him a
call. His voicemail picks up on the first ring. He’s probably in Tahiti or some
shit like that. I scan through my contacts once more, dialing Dr. Brentwood’s
office and telling his secretary that an emergency has come up.
***
“Beckham?” Eva’s covered in a
pale pink gown and a thin, flannel hospital blanket. Wires run from a monitor
around her exposed belly, connecting to a machine spitting out paper with zigzagged
lines. She offers a delirious smile when she sees me. Eva radiates, a healthy
flush on her tan cheeks. “You came.”
Her delicate Argentinian accent
used to make my knees weak and my cock hard. Ever since things went south and
our foray into fuck buddy territory ended with a restraining order, I can’t so
much as think about Argentina without breaking into a cold sweat.
A woman sits in a chair in the
corner, shooting daggers my way. Her arms are folded and she huffs before
looking away. I’m assuming it’s her friend.
“I knew you’d come. I haven’t
seen you
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