Page 34 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
Is this why Lincoln hadn’t gotten in touch with me? I hated how easily Whitney placed doubts in my head. I knew his hesitation at becoming a parent ran deep, but a foolish part of my heart really believed he’d give it a try. “Oh, that’s too bad.”
“I know. Do you think you can mention me the next time you see him?”
“No.” My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Her eyes narrowed at me. “You’re not pining for him, are you?”
I groaned. Maybe a little, but she didn’t need to know that. “You’re nuts.”
“Am I? I mean, I hate to be a jerk, but you’re not really his type. He’s much more into girls that look like me.” Her gaze flickered over me, as though dismissing me as competition. “And you’re pregnant. Why would he want to date you?”
She was such a bitch. This conversation made me realize the small thread of friendship that tethered me to her had been an illusion. “I’m not interested in him.”
“Good. You know I’m only trying to look out for you.”
Yeah, right, and I’m Mother Teresa.Maybe that was true once upon a time, but not anymore. When had Whitney changed so much?
“Sure you are.”
The harsh lines of a malicious grin cut through her features “I’m so happy you understand.”
“Oh, I do,” I answered with a touch of sarcasm. “Besides, Lincoln isn’t the type of guy I’d want to be in a relationship with. I’m sure he’s used to acting his way through life. I’m sure whatever connection you believe you felt between the two of you was a result of his excellent acting skills.”
“Oh, I don’t need a relationship. I think hooking up with someone that famous would be marvelous.” Whitney’s eyes glazed over. She’d always dreamed of being a star. Our stint on TV at the weight-loss camp didn’t get her discovered like she’d hoped it would. “So, speaking of hooking up, have you decided tofinallytell me who the baby’s daddy is?”
“It’s no one’s business.” I pressed my hands to my thighs to stop the trembling.
Her eyes grew wide. “Why won't you tell your friends who the father is unless you're embarrassed about who he is?”
“Whitney!” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I don’t even know how to respond to that. I think it's time for you to go.”
“Don’t get so testy. What else am I supposed to think? You hardly ever date.” She tilted her chin down and frowned at me. Why she thought I’d spilled the secret I'd been carrying for the past four months now was beyond me.
The store phone rang, cutting off the scathing reply I wanted to deliver. “Sorry, Whit,” I said without a shred of sincerity in my voice. “I’ve got to take this.”
“No problem. I should head out anyway. Talk later?” She wiggled her fingers and headed out the door.
“Yeah, sure.” I picked up the phone, grateful when she disappeared. The call ended up being a wrong number. Either way, I was happy to have the interruption and reason for Whitney to leave.
“Finally,” Hope said, walking to the front end of the store near me.
“Were you hiding in the back this whole time?”
“Yes, I can’t stand her. I really don’t know why you’re still friends.” Hope pushed her blond hair out of her face and pulled it up into a messy bun with the elastic on her wrist. Her blue-green eyes, the one trait my sisters and I all shared, studied me.
I sighed. “Yeah, I don’t think we are any longer.”
Hope smirked. “I can’t believe she thought you'd cave and tell her about the father of your child.”
I groaned and covered my face with my hands.
“Speaking of your baby daddy—” Hope jumped up to sit on the edge of the counter facing me. “Have you talked to Mom and Dad yet?”
“No.” I leaned my elbows on the counter. “I’ve been putting it off. I’d hoped to hear from Lincoln again.”
“Dad’s going to want to kill him.”
I cringed. “I know.” My father would blame Lincoln for not being here with me during the last few months.
