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Heather answers before he can. “He’s going to be a doctor,” she says, as though he’s already asked her to marry him or something.
Ross frowns, and I’m not really sure why. He’s hard to figure out. I can’t tell if he’s annoyed with Heather and me or just distracted.
A couple of minutes later he catches Drew’s attention. “Sorry to break this up, but we should be ready to go in about ten minutes.”
Drew gives him a blank stare.
“Grandma,” Ross prompts.
“Oh, man. I totally forgot.”
I give Drew a “huh?” look over my shoulder—I’m still sitting on his lap—and he says, “We have to go visit my grandma. Mom promised her we’d both come by this afternoon. I completely forgot about it.”
Ross says, “Can you be ready?” His gaze takes in Drew’s swimming trunks and faded Martha’s Vineyard T-shirt with the black dog on it. He’s already dressed appropriately, of course, in gray pants and a crisp white shirt.
Drew grimaces. “I’ve got to run Jenny home.”
His brother doesn’t seem to like this, and now I feel as if he’s annoyed directly at me. I’m going to make him late for his visit to his grandmother.
“I could ride the bus,” I say, scooting off Drew when he lets go of me to check his watch. I stand up.
Drew looks relieved, but I’m a little bummed. It’s less than ten minutes to my apartment by car, but a lot longer than that on the bus, especially since the stop is several blocks away. But I don’t want him to get in trouble.
Ross shakes his head, sighing. “Drive her home,” he tells Drew. “It’s not that big a deal. I’ll just call Grandma and let her know we’ll be late.”
“Thanks,” I say. But I don’t feel he’s being all that nice and I can tell he really is annoyed with me. “I’m ready to go right now.”
Drew grabs his keys and we take off, walking out to the cars with Brian and Heather, and I’m happy to see the last of his brother for a while.
The present
DREW HAD A BAD FEELING as he drove from his home in Vancouver across the Columbia River, down I-5, across the Willamette and up to Ross’s house—a feeling this wasn’t going to be a social call.
He pulled into the driveway and parked behind a battered station wagon with California plates and a San Francisco neighborhood parking permit. It took him a second, then he remembered seeing it at Jennifer Burns’s apartment and wondering how anyone could drive such a hunk of junk.
Glancing in the windows, he saw what appeared to be all her worldly possessions. Jesus. Was she moving here or simply stopping by on her way somewhere else?
She’d better not be the reason for this little visit. He’d expected her to figure out their night together was a one-time thing. Not that he would object to a repeat, but that started to smack of complications. And he didn’t like complications.
He knocked on the door, realizing that if this was about her, it would hardly be about starting up a relationship. Ross wasn’t exactly the type to act as a broker for his brother’s extramarital affairs. Hell, if he even realized there were affairs he’d go ballistic.
Ross opened the door, his features tense, his eyes cool. Drew realized instantly that he knew about San Francisco.
Shit, Drew thought. Just what he needed today—to be called on the carpet by his saintly older brother.
Ross stepped back to let him enter. A small brown dog shot into the front hall on three legs. The crazed-looking Chihuahua spent more time moving in circles than going straight forward.
“Yours?” he asked. It would be just like his brother to take on a crippled dog.
“Kyle and Melissa’s.”
Drew didn’t spend a lot of time socializing with Ross’s friends. No time at all, in fact. But he’d heard Ross talk about these particular friends and their daughter. They seemed to have a perfect life. Drew wouldn’t be surprised, though, if one of them walked into his law office someday seeking a divorce. Love was fun, but life was real. He didn’t have a lot of illusions left about human nature, his included.
“So what’s this all about?” he asked, pretending he didn’t know.
“Jennifer Burns.”
“Yeah? I saw her car. How is she?”
“She’s in the study. Why don’t you go see for yourself.”
CHAPTER FIVE
JENNIFER WATCHED DREW saunter into the study with his cocky, self-assured stride, and wondered what she’d ever seen in him. As a teenager or as an adult.
He rescued you, she told herself. And he charmed you. And he made you feel special when you couldn’t do it for yourself.
And look where it got you.
Ross stood in the doorway. He met her gaze and she read his expression.
I’ll be fine, she tried to telegraph. I can handle this. And she could. She knew she could. Because she knew from Drew’s demeanor exactly what would happen.
Ross stepped back and closed the door.
The study was simple, with a wall of medical books and a wide wooden desk. Jennifer sat behind it in Ross’s large padded chair. His laptop computer rested, lid down, to her right. A single window looked out into the side yard. She liked the room’s masculine feel—and the idea that Ross spent time in here gave her a kind of strength, though she didn’t want to question that fact too deeply.
Drew sat down on one of the chairs across the room. He leaned back and rested one ankle over a knee, smooth and relaxed, hands resting on his thighs.
She took a deep breath, reminding herself not to give up on him without giving him a chance.
“I’m sure this comes as a bit of a shock,” she said.
He seemed unaware of her meaning, though he’d seen her full belly behind the desk. He flashed her a casual smile.
“How’s it going? Must have been a long drive from California in that old car.”
She stared at him. His appearance was the same as it had been last December. Lighter hair than Ross’s, boyishly handsome face, great body, expensive blue suit. He did absolutely nothing for her.
“That’s not what I’m here to talk about.”
“Ah,” he said. “Your pregnancy.”
“Yes.”
“You do look quite different from the last time we saw each other. But pregnancy suits you. What are you—five, five-and-a-half months along?”
He should know exactly how far along she was. But perhaps his math skills weren’t up to par. “Twenty-seven weeks,” she said.
“I always forget how it works. Is that twenty-seven weeks since your last period or twenty-seven weeks since you conceived the child?”
“This child was conceived on December twenty-second,” she said, ignoring his question and his mention of her period, which was no doubt intended to embarrass her.
He betrayed no reaction. “So you’re trying to suggest it’s mine.”
She’d expected the indirect denial but couldn’t stop the shudder of pain it caused. “I’m carrying your child.”
“Do you have any proof of your allegation?”
“There’s a risk of early labor or injury to the baby with any of the sampling techniques.”
“So, that would be no.”
“No.”
“You’re asking me to take you at your word.”
She forced herself to remain calm. He was acting like the lawyer he was, but she wouldn’t let him intimidate her or provoke her into saying something she would regret. “I’m not a liar,” she said.
He raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying that I am?”
“You’re married.” And Jennifer felt truly sorry for his wife. She would rather be in her current predicament, if the alternative included marriage to a man like Drew. If it included the awful disillusionment Lucy was sure to experience with the person she’d chosen as her life partner.
“Yes,” he said.
“You told me you weren’t.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Think carefully.” Drew paused. “You asked me if I was in a relationship. I said, ‘Who would have me?’ You didn’t pursue it. You could have. I understood that you didn’t really want to know.”
“You remember your exact words? Six months later?”
He shrugged. “Sure.”
Jennifer realized why. Because he’d used those same words before or since. They worked. They’d worked on her because she hadn’t wanted to believe he would take her to dinner if he was in a relationship. And they might work on other women who didn’t care, as long as they didn’t have to face facts head-on.
“It was a lie of omission,” she said as evenly as she could.
“I’m not responsible for your assumptions.”
“You weren’t wearing your ring.”
He glanced at the gold band on his finger, then waved away the issue. “Let’s return to the matter at hand. And let me tell you how it will appear to an impartial observer.
“You’ve come to me with a claim you refuse to support, and you know your allegations could have a detrimental effect on my marriage. That smells of extortion. For all anyone knows, the child belongs to some other man, who won’t acknowledge it, and you plan to hit me up for some quick cash and disappear before my paternity can be disproved. Now, I’m not saying that’s what you’re doing. But it could look that way.”
Jennifer refused to back down. He could spin things any way he wanted. In the end, he was still the father. She cut to the chase. “When the baby turns out to be yours,” she said, staying cool, “what are you going to do about it?”
“If that were to happen,” he said, “which I very much doubt, then we would work something out.”
“You’ll be a father to your child?”
Drew looked at her as if she’d said something mildly idiotic. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes.”
He gave an uncomfortable laugh and shifted around on his chair. “I would have thought Ross had told you. My wife is pregnant. Our child is due in a few months. I can hardly be a father to yours, can I?”
Thank goodness she had known about his other baby, she thought, or his careless announcement would have rattled her composure further. “So what do you plan to do?”
“Jennifer, this is all a surprise. I can’t make any promises without time to consider. But if it’s mine, we would come to some agreement.”
Hadn’t he just told her how he’d lied to her by relying on her assumptions? She wasn’t about to assume the best in this case. “Please answer my question.”
“For all I know, this is just a hoax.”
“So your answer is nothing. You won’t be accountable.”
“Please don’t put words in my mouth.”
“Then, tell me yes or no. Will you be a father to your child?”
Drew brushed at the knee of his pants. “I want to be very clear about something, Jennifer. I don’t like blackmail. Your unwillingness to take the simple step of backing up your allegation makes your case weak. And I warn you that if you attempt to use your pregnancy against me by involving my family, you will pay a large price.” He paused, checking his Rolex—the same one that had spent several hours on her bedside table six months ago. “It’s late. I need to go home. And I urge you to think very carefully about your course of action from here on out.”
He went to the door.
“So your answer is no,” she said from her seat, in a voice that surprised her for its clarity.
He didn’t turn around. “Good night, Jennifer.”
ROSS HEARD THE SOUND of the study door and stepped from the living room into the front hall.
Drew appeared to be his usual confident self, but Ross thought he saw a little strain at the edges. Just a hint of tension around his eyes and a tight pull to his mouth.
“Well?” Ross asked.
“She’s pregnant,” Drew said. “She looks good pregnant.”
Ross waited.
“It’s not mine.” Drew crossed his arms. “She tried to tell me it was. I’m sure she told you the same thing.”
“She did.”
“And you believed her.”
