Page 67 of Accidental Irish Daddy

“Hello, Arthur Turning’s office. Melinda speaking. How can I help you?”

“Yes,” I say, a little too high. My nerves are getting the better of me. “Sorry, yes, hello. My name is Aisling Swee—I mean, Aisling Duncan. My, um, husband gave me Mr. Turning’s number. I’m looking to get custody of my little sister.”

“Ah, okay.” There’s a pause while someone types on a keyboard. “And is your sister living with you?”

“Yes. Yes, she is. We were living with my uncle…well, it’s a bit of a long story.”

“Oh, it’s no problem. Why don’t I make you an appointment? How’s Wednesday afternoon for you?”

“That’s fine,” I say, and a wave of relief comes over me. Finally, the wheels are turning on this. At least, I’ll get custody of Bridget and I won’t have to deal with Liam anymore.

Once the appointment is confirmed, I hang up. My phone buzzes in my hand. A message notification pops up.

You’ll pay, you filthy slut…

Liam. Again. I suppose this is his new normal now that he knows where I am and there won’t be any more payments coming. I hope this solicitor can work fast because he’ll be looking to get back at me for all this.

I think about the fact that I don’t have enough money to get a retainer for a solicitor like Turning. Grant said that he was the best there was in terms of family law. He probably cost a mint.

I should give Grant a heads up. Hopefully, he’ll foot the bill even if I’m not there anymore.

I text him.Called the solicitor you gave me for Bridget’s custody hearing. Can I count on you still to pay for his retainer?

Nothing. I imagine he’s looking at this message right now and thinking,The nerve of that woman!

This isn’t about us, though. It’s about Bridget, and I’m pretty sure that we’re on the same page for that, at least.

I get my clothes out of my suitcase and start arranging things for tonight. I’m trying not to think about the fact that Grant hasn’t answered me yet. He’d better not be thinking about taking this out on Bridget. I swear if he blocks this action just because—

My phone buzzes on the nightstand. I go to it and look. It’s from Grant and the message is short.

Whatever you need.

That’s good at least. My fingers hover over the keyboard, a lingering feeling of longing for him driving me.

Martha is a good woman and always has high praise for him. It makes me think that I’m judging him too hard. The phone buzzes.

We should talk about things, Aisling. Please don’t shut me out.

I lock my phone and turn it off. I’m not ready to talk to him, I guess. Maybe if I sleep on it. Maybe after I talk to the solicitor. But not right now.

I’m not ready just yet.

21

Grant

She never answered my text. Yesterday wasn’t my finest moment. Once again, I’m in this big, quiet house. No Bridget and no Aisling. It’s enough to drive a man to drink.

I get up and get dressed. Things at work are going well. Two new big accounts and starting to open up franchises in the states. Now, if only I could get my personal life together with the same level of success.

I’ve had the night to sleep on it and I still don’t know what to do.

Aisling being pregnant has thrown me for a loop and a half, to say the least. I don’t know what I’ll do with a child. I’ve never been a father before and I hadn’t planned on ever being one. I’d be no good for her or that baby.

I’d better get some coffee before I go. I’m running a little late, but I can spare a few minutes for a cup. As I round the corner, the back door opens to the kitchen and Martha walks in. She’s carrying a basket of sweets and smiling, just like she always is.

“Morning,” I say to her as I walk past her to the coffee maker. “You’re here early.”

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