Page 51 of The Billionaire's Accidental Daddy Duty
Over eighteen months had gone by since the last time I saw Harper. She looked older. No, not old, but rather tired, as if the last few weeks without her baby had really taken a toll on her. How old had she said she was when I met her? I tried to think of that night. She had been celebrating a birthday. Right, her thirtieth birthday. Hence the threesome.
My gaze roamed her features over and over as I tried to find a spark of recognition. But nothing about her felt familiar. I only knew this was Harper because of the pictures the private investigator found on social media. Most of those pictures were dated almost two years ago, right around the time Joey had been conceived.
I felt like such an asshole for not reaching out to her before. But that was the deal we had all agreed to. The club had a privacy policy to protect its clients. The non-disclosure agreement I signed when I joined prevented me from engaging anyone outside of this building. Jesus Christ, wasthat why she had left Joey at my door without a note? Because she didn’t want to violate the contract? Surely, she had to know the stupid NDA didn’t apply when babies were involved.
Rubbing a hand over my chest, I took a breath and then released it slowly to keep my composure. I felt guilt over the fact that Harper had to go through an entire pregnancy alone. And then she had to take care of a newborn—again—alone. But I was also pissed at her for turning my life upside down without warning.
“You should’ve come to me as soon as you found out.”
What I really wanted to ask was—why did she disappear? Why do this to her baby? We could’ve worked this out together. I could’ve worked out a million different solutions that didn’t involve her leaving him for almost a month.
“Declan.” Tears ran down her cheeks as she darted toward me. She slammed against my body and buried her face in my chest.
The sobbing disarmed me and made all the anger go away. She sniffled as wet seeped through my dress shirt. That tiny detail sparked a memory from so long ago when Dad died, and I caught Mom sobbing into her pillow. I sat by her bedroom door and waited until she fell asleep. In that moment, seven-year-old me hadn’t known what else to do. Things were different now—I was the fixer.
I wrapped my arms around Harper’s small body. Again, the feel of it didn’t seem familiar. The mother of my baby was a complete stranger to me. I put aside my guilt and focused on Harper instead.
“Harper, what happened? I can help you. If you’re in trouble. Ican help.”
I couldn’t imagine what kind of trouble she was in. But whatever it was, I would do anything to make it right because there was no way in hell I was going to let her take my baby away. I couldn’t imagine Joey spending any amount of time away from me.
“I want my baby,” she mumbled into my shirt.
“Right. I got that. But first, we need to talk. Let’s start with why you left him at my door to begin with? Why didn’t you call me?” I gripped her shoulders and gently made her look at me. “You can tell me.”
“I’m sick.” She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. “When I found out, I thought Joey would be better off with you. At first anyway. But then. I haven’t had a moment of peace since I left him with you. Please don’t take him away. I panicked. I didn’t know what else to do and?—”
“Okay.” I cupped her face to stop the rambling. “Slow down. What do you mean sick? What’s wrong?”
“Breast cancer. My doctor caught it early, but it’s aggressive and they needed to start treatment right away.” She glanced down at her hands, then ran them over her hair.
“You’ve been in a fucking hospital this entire time?”
The news was like a punch to the stomach. No wonder we couldn’t find her. The private investigator spent all his time and energy looking into other sex clubs and bars around town. He and I had assumed a lot about Harper. We were wrong about all of it.
Here I was worried about being a dad, worried about Joey having to grow up without a dad if something happened to me, worried about my fucking company. I didn’t stop to think about Harper and how she was doing. I didn’t stop tothink about the possibility that my son would have to grow up without a mother.
“I’m sorry.” I pulled her into my arms. “How can I help?”
“Just give him back to me.”
“You can’t do this alone. You need me.”
I racked my brain, looking for the right words to say. Anything to get her to stop saying she wanted her baby back. Not that I wouldn’t do what she wanted. She was the mom.
“If you need a place to stay, you can stay with me. With us. Where are you staying?”
“With my grandmother in Utica. I lost my job and my apartment.”
“Assholes. Because of the baby?”
“No, because of the cancer.” Her eyes watered.
Jesus fuck. “Don’t worry about that. You’re moving in with me. I’ll pay for whatever medical bills you have.” I would give her anything she wanted to get her to not run off again.
“We’re not together. I can’t take over your life like that.”
Technically, she had already taken over my life, but I didn’t think she needed to hear me say that. “I’m not saying let’s get married.” I said it as a joke, but when she glanced up at me, the tears in her eyes told me that was what she had been hoping for. She needed a partner and father for her baby.
