Page 91 of Bad & Bossy

“So you fucking told him Drew’s his son?” I accused, glaring at her over the kitchen island. She looked smaller than usual with her legs tucked up against her chest. “That wasn’t your information to give.”

“I just said both of you were keeping secrets,” she clarified, and that didn’t make it any better. “But the way he looked at me… I don’t know, Dana. I think he’s put the pieces together. I told him I thought he was lying about not relapsing because honestly, I think you were right about that. But I may have insinuated that he wasn’t the only one lying.”

“No, no, no, fuck.” I pushed the bases of my palms into my eyes, trying to relieve some of the pressure building behind them. This was bad. This was fucking awful. She’d gone behind my back, she’d broken her promise, she’d told him in almost no uncertain terms.

I was screwed.

It had been two weeks. What was he waiting for, then? If he knew, if he remembered it through the likely haze of alcohol he was operating under, there was no reason for why he hadn’t shown up at my door demanding to see Drew. My head spun, filling with every worst-case scenario I could think of. He was lawyering up, he was going to take me to court, he was going to demand visitation or custody, he would ask for a paternity test, he was going to take my son from me, he was dead in a ditch on the side of the road…

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not,” I croaked, wrapping one arm around the cooing baby strapped to my chest. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

“You lost your mind when you found out I knew about Cole being in rehab,” she said, her brows narrowing as she fought herself on this. “You said I should have told you. For Drew’s sake. Does he not deserve the same respect?”

“Not when he’s rich as shit and could crush me in court for fucking custody, Lottie!”

Drew looked up at me, his little green eyes shining, reflecting Cole right back at me. His lower lip quivered, and god, I really needed to control my anger around him. But how else was I supposed to react? How else was I supposed to feel?

Lottie shook her head. “He wouldn’t. He’s not that kind of person. And if for any reason he tried, you know damn well that Hunter and I would help you?—”

“I wouldn’t need that help if you had just kept your mouth shut in the first place!”

“He deserves to know he has a kid, Dana! And Drew deserves a father?—”

A singular bang from the front door made me jump. Drew kicked off in my arms, the sounds of irritation too much for him, and as I wrapped my arm back around his bottom to calm him down, another bang shook the wood.

“That better not be Cole,” I snapped, sending a glare to Lottie as I stepped around the kitchen island. Another harsh knock, followed swiftly by the sound of breaking pottery and a grunt.

“Stop, stop, you’ve got Drew. I’ll get it,” Lottie said, shooting to her feet in a second and crossing the beige carpet to the front door. She turned the handle, wrenching it open, and my stomach dropped for what had to be the millionth time in two weeks.

“You’re not Dana,” Robert said, a broken piece of my flower pot in his hand before he tossed it behind him. He clocked me before she could reply. “Where the hell have you been, girl? Was looking everywhere for you.”

Lottie looked back at me, her brows furrowed, a silent question between us—who the fuck is he?

“Shut the door, Lottie,” I said, taking a step toward her, but in a flash his hand was on it, holding it open. We both stopped in our tracks.

“I ask for one date and you disappear for weeks?” Robert pushed. Even from behind Lottie, I could smell him. It was as if he’d bathed, clothes and all, in a vat of vodka. It was almost shocking how much he reminded me of Cole—the lightly tanned skin, the lightened hair, the hint of stubble that Cole had for weeks on end. Even down to the cut of his suit, it looked like it had been taken right from Cole’s closet. If I didn’t know any better, at a passing glance, I’d have assumed he was Cole. But there were differences there too, ones that couldn’t be changed. His height, his extra wide shoulders, the way his nose bent to the left. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d seen Cole a handful of times and had been trying to change his appearance under the assumption I was dating Cole. Oh my god. Was he trying to look more like Cole in the hope that I would date him?

“Her son was in the hospital,” Lottie hissed, taking a step toward him and forcing him back. I wanted to grab her hand and pull her toward me, but the irritation from our argument stopped me before I could. “She clearly doesn’t want you here, so leave.”

“I called you,” he barked, and Drew let out another little cry.

“And I ignored them,” I shot back.

“I don’t get it,” Robert huffed, his fingernails digging into the cheap wood of my door and leaving a scratch. “Your precious Cole is out there drunk off his ass, spiraling—nose-diving, in fact—into his own little issues. The fucking idiot’s made himself happy as a clam to never get sober again, and you’re still choosing him?”

I blinked. What was he talking about? “I’m not choosing anybody. I’m just not agreeing to date you because you’re a goddamn psychopath.”

“Look at me,” he laughed, something dark and almost sinister brewing in the way his voice sounded. “I’m a million times better than him.”

“How do you know Cole?” Lottie asked. Her arm began to shake, the same one that was holding the door halfway shut. How much pressure is he putting on that door?

“Rehab,” he said, as little bits of spittle went flying.

Rehab.

Wait.

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