Page 53 of The Christmas Eve Delivery

“The mountains, hiking, skiing, it’s all right there. That’s the reason the resort becomes the destination,” Diego said.

“I think it would be better if there were a little additional impetus to get people into the area,” I said. “Come up with a prospectus, and I’ll think about it.”

“You hired me because I’m smart.”

“Then make good suggestions,” I snarled.

“My suggestion is that we cut our losses with Brookdale.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said as I waved him out of my office.

I couldn’t think about Brookdale because I was too busy thinking about Lydia. I was eager to get back to her, but after what Diego had said, it had me thinking about paternity issues. She was already sneaking around behind my back, running HistoricalSociety meetings. Who was to say she wasn’t trying to entrap me by having gotten pregnant?

The more I thought about it, the more I couldn’t help but wonder if she had seemed entirely too happy to see me. She hadn’t been mad. She hadn’t been worried. She was really happy.

Was that because she knew she had me in her grasp at that point? Was this pregnancy of hers really just a way to secure a man into wanting to help her?

She needed a lot of help. Every time I was there, she had me working on the inn and I thought it had been my idea. She was a smart woman. Was she smart enough to manipulate me this way?

When I was with her, I couldn’t think straight. I only wanted to be near her, make her happy. And every time I returned to the city, it was as if a fog had cleared from my brain. I was out of Lydia’s control, able to think logically and clearly.

“Sarah,” I called out into the speakerphone on my desk.

“Yes?” my admin replied.

“Put a call through to Wilson and Priest, my lawyer.”

“I’ll ring them through when I have them on the line,” she said before disconnecting.

I paced around my office as I waited for the call. I ended up staring out at the view of the city.

On a clear day, the glass towers only reflected other glass towers. There were not acres of trees turning fiery reds, oranges, and yellows for miles off into the distance. What the hell was I doing? Missing Brookdale? Missing Lydia?

The phone rang.

“I’ve got Briggs Priest on the phone for you,” Sarah said through the speakerphone.

I hit the button to connect the call.

“Briggs,” I said.

“Nice to hear from you, Miles. How can I help you today?”

“I have a not quite hypothetical question for you.”

“Sounds intriguing. What is this not quite hypothetical situation you have going on?” he asked

“It would seem that I may or may not have gotten a woman Upstate pregnant.”

“Ah,” said Briggs. “I see how it’s not exactly hypothetical, but based on the outcome, it could be.”

“Exactly. How can I be certain that it’s mine? Do I really have to wait until the child is born to determine paternity?”

“You have two choices,” Bring started. “You either trust her word, or you wait until the baby’s born and have a paternity test done.”

“And my responsibility?”

“That is between you and the mother. If she is demanding prenatal assistance, we can help you work out an agreement that if paternity proves you are not the father, she is responsible for all financial contributions you’ve made.”

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