Page 27 of Sinful Blaze

“Yeah,” she whispers. “I did.”

“How is it possible to go so long without knowing?”

She cringes and withers like she wishes she could disappear from my sight. “Sometimes, stress can make a period vanish, just like pregnancy. After the breakup and everything at the gallery, and my bosses, and the move?—”

“You moved?”

“Yeah. About a month ago. Had to juggle that with work and my family, and I just… I was under a ton of stress. I’ve had it happen plenty of times before. So it just never occurred to me.”

“What tipped you off?”

“Who,” she corrects. She takes another long sip. “Hazel is the one who put two and two together. I hadn’t been using the pads in the bathroom, but I’d also been battling nausea a lot. When I complained last week about needing to buy a new bra, she came home with a box of pregnancy tests.”

Daphne offers me a shy, regretful smile. “I’m sorry to break the news to you like this. I really didn’t plan on running into you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Now, she really smiles. Something in my chest boils uncomfortably.

The moment passes. She grows serious again and slurps on her straw. “I’ll take a paternity test, if you want. Just to make sure everything’s super clear. I mean, it’s, ah…” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s definitely yours, to be honest. I haven’t been with anyone since we met, and I hadn’t slept with anyone for at least two months prior.”

I frown. “What about Ewing?”

“Conrad? Right.” Daphne rolls her eyes. “Too busy dancing the horizontal mambo with his mistress.”

Makes sense.

Doesn’t do anything to calm my racing heart.

I drive us out of the VitaSmooth parking lot. Our next stop isn’t far.

Daphne sighs. The look of defeat on her face as she stares at the new building in front of us is not one I expected. Nor do I like it.

“I get it. Really. I can’t expect you to believe me.”

“It’s not that.” I do my best to ignore the glowing sign of the public fertility clinic advertising abortion services. “I do believe you.”

Her mouth twists into a wry smile. “You don’t think I sleep around with half the city?”

“Fuck no. Who the?—”

“My mother.”

Ah. Of course. The family drama causing the sudden wave of rubbernecking at the restaurant club. “Just because she’s your mother doesn’t mean she’s right to say that.”

Daphne sniffles. Shit, is she crying? But instead of bursting into tears, she only nods. “Thanks.”

I rub my jaw again. “Look, it’s not for me. I believe you. But the, uh… the company I work for… they need the paperwork proving it’s mine. Plus the inheritance, naming of my heir, et cetera…”

“What, are you some hotshot CEO or something?” Daphne chuckles.

I look at her. The heavy silence does the talking.

After it gets too awkward, she shuffles out of the car. I follow her inside.

She stiffens as I step up behind her at the counter. I don’t interrupt her conversation with the receptionist. Just shadow her and wait.

Which is how I hear that she gives a fake name. “Sara Harcourt.”

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