Page 28 of Enemy Ex's Secret Baby

I bury my phone away in the bottom of the register. If it’s out of sight, maybe it can be out of mind.

But no matter how hard I try not to think about it, I keep getting that image of Axel’s lips entangled with someone else’s. Someone more beautiful, more worldly, more suited for him.

By the end of the day, I feel sick to my fucking stomach.

10

AXEL

“This…this is good work, son.”

I stare at the computer screen. My dad is pointing to an article written by the LA Times. A nothing, puff piece talking about the gala I was at just two days ago.

They just happened to have used a photo of me and Linda Fucking Drosney in a collage for the article. And yes, our lips are literally locked. It’s giving me war flashbacks just looking at it.

“Didn’t know you had a penchant for older women.”

I glare at my father. He has a shit-eating grin on his face. “I don’t.” I collapse back into my seat across from him at his desk. It’s a beautiful Saturday. Gorgeous. Perfect weather for surfing or sailing. Instead, I’m locked in yet another conversation with my father about what the hell we are going to do about managing media around the Seton lot.

Apparently, me getting cornered by an older woman is “good work”.

“And a Drosney at that…” he continues cheekily.

“Look, Dad, it was…she was drunk. I was just trying to go. She was lonely, wanted some attention, I–”

“You sound embarrassed. Don’t be embarrassed! Now everyone is going to be going around town talking about you and Linda Drosney. That’s going to take all the heat off the Seton lot. They’re going to be asking questions like ‘isn’t she so much older than him’ and ‘didn’t she just get divorced’, all the while the city council quietly comes to a decision and then we are in the clear.”

I frown. “In the clear?”

Dad smiles even more. “Drosney’s father is a city councilman.”

“Jesus, how old is he?”

Dad furrows his brow. “Old men can still get the job done.”

“What I mean is–I just thought she–”

“Please, she’s not much older than you.”

I give him an incredulous look. “She has two kids in their twenties.”

Dad grumbles, “I said not much older than you.”

I shake my head. “Well, I’m so happy that my trauma has taken the heat off of you, Father.”

“Trauma?! You’re being dramatic.”

I lean back in my chair and glance out the window. Yes. Beautiful spring day. I sit up a little straighter when I hear the voice of one of the Solace girls outside. Harley, I think, by the brash laughter that follows.

“Now, listen, I’m proud of you. You’re getting out there, you’re doing damage control. That’s exactly what we need to be doing right now. So here.”

I glance at my father. He’s holding out a business card. I frown, taking it from him. “What’s this?”

He doesn’t say anything.

I scan the card, immediately my face drops. Linda Drosney. It’s her fucking card. “How’d you get this?”

“She sent it over. By courier. Taken a shine to you.”

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