Page 1 of A Little Discovery

CHAPTER 1

LUCKY

May

“Lucas, I’m pregnant.”

The coffee I spent my last five dollars in my wallet on goes spewing out of my mouth, all over the girl who just popped up in front of me. She looks vaguely familiar, like I might have class with her or something, but for the life of me, I cannot recall a name. Her voice makes me want to call her Cruella. She seems like someone who would want to skin puppies for a coat.

While she wipes at her face, I hurriedly set down my overpriced, wonderfully over sugared cup of magic bean juice to dig out my handkerchief from my backpack. Grandfather always said that I needed to carry one, that tissues were too plebian for anything other than snot. A handkerchief is the only acceptable thing to have on hand when you needed to assist a damsel in distress… My father’s side of the family doesn’t believe in the poor.

“They just don’t try hard enough…”

The girl snatches the piece of cloth from my hands without hesitation, her nails drawing blood on the back of my hand. Ialmostmanage to hold back the whimper, but I have never done well with the sight of blood. I am getting better at not fainting at the sight of my own blood, but it still makes me want to curl up and cry. If someone else is bleeding? Find me a flat surfacepronto because it will be lights out in under a minute.

I kind of wish I didn’t give her my hanky so I could wrap my hand, but I was raised to be a gentleman. The offensive snot pockets, more commonly known as tissues to those who don’t think like my relatives, will have to suffice for cleaning up my blood. I guess it’s better this way since bloodstains are harder to remove than coffee most of the time…

“You were the only one I have been with, Lucas, so it has to be yours. You have to make this right!”

Oh, she is still talking?

It’s a struggle not to laugh in her face. How in the world could I put a baby in her?

Number one: I have never had sex… Not with a woman. Not with a man. Not even with a dolly. Gramps on my mother’s side has like four or five illegitimate kids, and I want none of that drama.

Number two: The thought of even touching a vagina is enough to make me laugh uncontrollably. No offense to the ladies of the world, but every time I read a romance novel that talks about a beautiful blooming flower, I giggle. Some of those books make visits to the botanical gardens a hoot. My parents stopped dragging me to the charity events there after I couldn’t stop laughing at the rose bushes.

And number three: I’m pretty certain I am asexual. The act itself is just not that appealing to me.

“LUCAS ANTHONY HOLLOWAY!”

Shit! Why is my mother on campus?!

“Did I just hear that you got a girl pregnant, and you are ignoring your responsibilities?” my mother scolds me like I’m a toddler and not the nineteen-year-old man that I am. Sometimes I hate being born into this family. I can’t cough at a fundraiser, but she can throw a tantrum in the middle of the campus on the sidewalk. Sounds about right.

An hour later, I am not in class like I should be. Instead, I’m on the sofa in my father’s den while my mother is still going on and on about her half-siblings and how they ruined her life. For the most part, my father is merely staring at the crazy woman, nodding in the appropriate places, but in reality, he’s likely doing calculations in his head to figure out the cost breakdown of his options if this were to get out to the media. He’s nothing, if not a shrewd businessman.

I have already done my own calculations. I have two options here. Either I fight the accusations of this girl, and create a gossip storm about the heir of Holloway Industries abandoning his baby mama… Or, I marry her, and raise the kid as my own, saving them from the puppy wearing monstrosity that is carrying him or her. There really is no choice for me if I want to avoid the conflict raging around me…

“Call the lawyers,” I pipe up, interrupting my mother’s rant about one of my uncles ruining her sixteenth birthday by having the audacity to be born and pull her father away from her special day.

“We’ll do a pre-nup and then I’ll marry her so the baby is legitimate. I won’t let the child be born a bastard.”

That last part is solely for my mother’s benefit, so that she would shut the hell up about bastards and inheritances. In truth, my mother couldn’t care less about her half-siblings if it wasn’t for the money. Gramps is worth billions… with a capital B… and my mother seems to think because she is his only legitimate child she deserves all of it. Nevermind the fact that she married my father, whose company is worth millions. She wants every penny. I think if she ever found a way to cut me off, she would do it.

The look my father gives me is one of pity. He knows that this girl is cut from the same cloth as my mother. He knows she is only after me for my money. Sad part is, it isn’t even my money. I’m their only kid, so I guess all of this crap eventually becomes mine someday, whether I want it or not. I would trade all the money in the world for some peace and quiet right about now. Mother has called the girl and arranged for the lawyer and an officiant to meet at the house tomorrow. Looks like we aren’t wasting any time.

June

It has been a month or so since I lost my favorite hanky to this girl, not to mention my freedom. Her name is apparently Sabrina Carlisle, and we supposedly slept together at a party months ago. I vaguely recall the party, but sure as hell don’t remember losing my virginity.

It was the one and only time my roommate managed to drag me out of our dorm room, but I didn’t stay very long… or rather I wasn’t conscious very long. Shortly after we arrived at the frat house, someone took a header down the stairs. When I saw the blood, one of the brothers in the house led me to his room to lie down. I was about thirty seconds from lights out when he found me.

According to Sabrina and James, my roommate, she went in the room to lie down after drinking too much without realizing I was in there. Supposedly, we hit it off and one thing led to another. I know it was all lies, but it was an easy sell to mymother, who trapped my father by being pregnant with me. My father, on the other hand, didn’t believe a word of it; hence, the pre-nup.

The terms of the pre-nuptial agreement are cut and dry. If I die, she gets nothing. My father insisted on that one. Apparently, one of his college buddies almost got taken out when his new wife tried to hire a hit man, only she hired an undercover cop instead. Father told me many times as a teenager to be wary of gold diggers. I’m pretty sure he has mother followed and under surveillance now.

If Sabrina and I divorce amicably or through no fault, we each leave with whatever we brought into the marriage and all assets are distributed according to whose funds were used to purchase them. In other words, if my inheritance or income pays for things, they are mine and not joint property. That one had to go through the lawyers because in some states, there are special rules for distribution of property and such after a divorce.

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