Page 160 of Forgot to Tell You Something

“You know the answer to that, Charlotte. There has been nothing real between us for a long time. Now, per your own words, it’s strictly business.”

36

Tally

“Coming,” I call out, my heart sinking when I open the condo door.

Charlotte stands in the vestibule, looking coolly glamorous as always in yet another designer suit. Meanwhile, I’m the definition of anti-chic in a tank top and sweats.

Thank God Owen loves me just as I am.

“What can I do for you, Charlotte?” I inquire, leaning against the door as I gaze up the length of her willowy frame.

“I have some paperwork for Owen. I thought he would want to familiarize himself with it before the trip.”

What a load of garbage. “Nah, you would have stopped by his office, considering you were just there today. You want to speak to me. Am I right?”

“Are you always this direct?”

“Yes. I find bullshit pleasantries tiresome.” I open the door, allowing her entrance. “What do you want?”

Charlotte gazes around the condo before setting her purse down on an end table. “Interesting decor.”

“I prefer homey to institutional. But let’s cut the crap. You’re not here to discuss my interior design choices.”

“Will you be submitting the paternity test before or after the birth?”

I don’t know why I’m surprised by Charlotte’s question, but it rams me like a punch in the gut. I huff out a breath, shocked at her direct inquiry. “How is that any of your business?”

“Owen is my business. Mine and my father’s. We like to keep tabs on our commodities.”

I throw up my hands, my eyes blazing in disbelief. “Do you hear yourself? You just referred to the man I love as a commodity.”

“Will you answer the question, please? I’ll gladly pay for the testing.”

“Owen never mentioned me having a paternity test. He knows he’s the father.”

Her dark green eyes bore into me, making me feel like a caged rat. So much for false bravado. “He knows no such thing, which is why I’m here to deliver the paperwork for the test. You don’t think Owen wants to give his last name to a child who may or may not be his, Tallulah. You’re smarter than that.”

I snatch the document from her fingers, tossing it on the table. “Is there anything else?”

“There is one thing. You don’t really believe he’s going to marry you, do you?”

“It hadn’t occurred to me,” I lie, praying Charlotte can’t see through my falsehood.

“Yes, it has. You’ve thought about it constantly, especially now that you’re in the family way. He would be quite the catch, especially with this second center opening. You could claim a seat at the head table, regardless of your upbringing.”

That’s it. She can insult me, but when she throws shade at my deceased parents, I see red. “Don’t you ever mention my parents again. They were two of the most wonderful people to grace this planet and you,” I hiss, coming right under her nose, “aren’t fit to shine their shoes. Nowget out.” I pull open the door, slamming it hard enough that the lamp shakes on the foyer table.

Leaning against the wall, I slow my breathing and will my heart rate down. I need to stay calm for Nugget, even if that bitch shredded my last bits of sanity.

I know she’s jealous and vindictive, but her statement isn’t totally off base. Owen and I aren’t married. He told me that Charlotte was unfaithful during their relationship. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that he would want a paternity test.

It’s a fair and logical request. But that isn’t what bothers me the most.

‘You don’t really believe he’s going to marry you, do you?’

Charlotte’s pointed barb zips through my head like a dart, poisoning every thought. I rub my brow, the headache fast becoming a pounding disaster. The events of the last few weeks have taken their toll. I need some downtime.

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