Page 65 of Auctioned to Dr. Daddy

“Uh-huh,” says Tabitha. “I like her.” She bobs her head. “And the horses!”

I chuckle. “That’s good to hear, kiddo. I like her a lot, too. I like her so much that I think that we should see her way more often.”

“Really?” Tabitha asks, sounding excited. At least this isn’t going to be a difficult adjustment for her. Not only does she really seem to love Demi, but I think that she’s young enough to just focus on the excitement of a new turn in life. Completely different than she would have responded if she was a teenager.

“Yep.” I pop the end of the word the way that always makes Tabitha giggle. It’s just as successful tonight as it usually is. “Do you remember what it was like when we used to live with Mommy?”

“Uh-huh,” says Tabitha. “I remember.”

“How would you feel about living like that, but with Demi?” I ask.

She thinks about it for a very, very long moment. Her lips purse up and her brows pinch down, and she looks very much the perfect picture of someone who’s trying to imitate The Thinker statue. She even drums her fingers, off cadence, against her paper the way that she sees me doing when I’m working at home.

Then she gives a very determined-looking nod and announces, loudly and firmly, “I like it.”

“Yeah?” Even though I was expecting the response, I’m still relieved to see such a positive reaction.

“Uh-huh,” she says and then proceeds to launch into a tale that covers everything she likes about Demi. And then the farm. And then the horses. And at some point, she tells herself enough of a story that, in the dark of the car, the gentle rocking of her booster seat lulls her to sleep.

Blissful silence settles over the inside of the Rolls Royce. My mood has never been better, which is probably why it’s such a shocking, unwelcome drop when I turn the corner to my driveway and see Emma’s white sports car parked there.

I spit out every curse substitute that I’ve ever tried to train myself into using, and a few that I absolutely shouldn’t be using around Tabitha anyway. She thankfully sleeps through it. Pulling into the space beside Emma’s car, I get out and move to the back.

Tabitha is a rock when she goes to sleep. I pick her up, pulling her against my chest, and turn around to find Emma standing less than a foot away. She’s wearing a short, black pencil skirt and a red, silken blouse with a very deep cut on the front, the billowing fabric showing off her cleavage.

“You aren’t answering my calls,” says Emma, frowning.

“She’s sleeping,” I whisper. “And you don’t get Tabitha for another week, anyway. What are you doing here, Emma?”

“She won’t mind seeing her mother early. You should invite me up for a drink. We need to talk.”

Something cold snakes through my chest. There have been times when I’ve given in to that request in the past. One glass of wine always turns into two, and three, and soon, Emma’s trying to make a pass at me.

It’s part of why the divorce proceedings dragged out for so long. Emma is amazing at getting inside your head. But I’m not lonely anymore, not like I was when we first split up. And I have no interest in having her in for drinks.

I’m about to make that clear when I remember that Emma showed up at work and made Demi so nervous that she postponed telling me about the baby.

There’s no way this can keep happening.

“You’re right,” I say. “We do need to talk.”

A serpentine smile curls over Emma’s face. “Glad you see it my way.”

She steps forward, like she means to kiss me and I step backward, shaking my head. The only reason I’m not shouting is because I’m still holding Tabitha. Instead, my words come out as a harsh, cold hiss.

“This isn’t a game, Emma,” I snap. “And you’re not going to keep slipping back into my life. Or bother Demi ever again.”

“Oh, your little sweetheart on the side? Did she come crying to Daddy?” Emma snorts. “Christ, Nathan. She’s got to be half your age. You really went after the younger model, didn’t you?”

“Emma,” my voice is so cold and cutting, it finally catches her attention. “I’m not fucking around. If you ever show up at my God damn hospital again, I’ll file a No Trespass on you.”

The perks of owning the building. It’s not why I bought up Mercy General by any means, but it’s sure an added perk to having become the owner of the facility. I don’t have to go through the upper brass to make that call. I just can make it.

Emma falters a moment, though she pulls herself back up. “You wouldn’t dare. Not on the mother of your child.”

“You clearly don’t know me as well as you think,” I say, making to step past her. It’s taking everything that I have not to raise my voice. She is the mother of one of my children, and there will always be a level of respect toward her on account of that. But she’s also being an absolutely awful person at this point.

Emma follows me all the way up to the sidewalk that stretches around the length of the building. “Stop walking away from me, Nate. We’re not finished!”

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