Page 42 of The Baby Twist
“You’re going to need this,” she said.
I furrowed my brows at her as I held the scotch in my hand.
“You may want to sit down on the couch.”
“For the love of God, Jenna. Just tell me whatever it is you have to tell me,” I spoke in an irritated tone.
“Your father knows you’re the baby daddy.”
“WHAT!” he shouted as he fell onto the stool at the island.
“I told you you’d want to be sitting down.”
“How? How does—did you?—”
“Before you start going batshit crazy,” she held up her hand, “let me explain.”
I threw back my drink and pushed the glass to her for another.
“Your father asked me to lunch today because he wanted to discuss something. I had no idea he wanted to talk about youand the baby. He backed me into a corner, Lucas. He put two and two together and figured it out. Let’s be honest, he’s a smart man, and you don’t have to be smart to look at our situation and figure it out. By the way, your lecture is coming next.”
“What? What the fuck does that mean?”
“He’s going to confront you about it. I promised him I wouldn’t tell you about our meeting. But, considering he’s a vile and despicable human being, my word means nothing when it comes to him.”
“What the hell did he say to you?”
“He told me to reconsider working for you and lectured me about you and how you’re not ready and willing to be a father. I told him we agreed that I was raising this baby on my own, but that wasn’t good enough for him. He wants to pay me off to leave New York and never have contact with you again.”
“What did you tell that bastard?”
“I told him I’d think about it, and I was sure I could come up with a reasonable amount that would benefit both of us.”
“You are unbelievable,” I scowled at her.
“If you really think I’m taking his money, then you don’t know me at all. I’m playing the game, Lucas. I’m letting him think he has the upper hand.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game, and you need to stop. You don’t know my father.”
“I know enough, and I know you feel trapped in the strings he has attached to you. Just like I did with my parents.”
“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” I pointed my finger at her.
“Yes, I do. What happened in your past? Your father gave some lame line about if you feel, you stop thinking, and when you stop thinking, everything goes to hell. He said you have firsthand experience with that.”
I swallowed hard as I narrowed my eye at her. Suddenly, I heard a timer go off.
“Hold that thought. I have to take the spaghetti out of the oven.”
“Can you just forget about the damn spaghetti for a moment!” I yelled.
“Um. No. We’re hungry!” I waved my hand over my belly. “Plus, if I don’t take it out, it’ll burn and create smoke which will set off the smoke detector, and then the fire company will come out. Do you really want that? Because when they ask me what happened, I’ll be more than happy to tell them that you demanded I leave it in the oven so we could continue discussing your piece of shit father!”
I stared at her as I clenched my jaw, unable to speak.
“That’s what I thought.” She turned and opened the oven door. “You know, I thought my parents were bad, but your father?—”
“Just stop. You’ve only known him for a couple of days. I’ve had to deal with his bullshit my entire life.”
