Surprise Delivery (Page 49)

It’s been a couple of days since Duncan and I uttered those three magic little words to each other and I’m still floating on air. At the time, part of me was afraid it was just something said in the heat of the moment, when passion and lust were overriding common sense. It made me hesitant to express my own feelings, but I gave into them anyway.

But in the times we’ve talked since then, he’s said those three words again. Several times over now, which has allayed some of my fears. Knowing that Duncan actually loves me has sent me over the moon.

I never expected this to happen, nor did I anticipate falling in love with him. I mean, the night of the gala, I knew there was something special between us. We both knew. But, to have it come together months later, when both of us had every opportunity to move on with our lives – it’s just like something out of a fairy tale to me.

Of course, the one underlying worry in all of this is still there. It hasn’t gone away simply because I’m still too afraid to handle it. I know that it’s only getting worse for me with every passing day, but I still can’t make myself tell Duncan that Aurora is his daughter. I’ve tried more than a few times, but I just can’t force the words out of my mouth.

I’ve imagined a thousand nightmare scenarios when he finds out – all of them ending with him taking Aurora from me and leaving me behind, the love he says he feels for me in ruins. And at this point, maybe I can’t even really blame him. Keeping this from him is horrible. It’s cruel. I know this, and yet I still can’t force myself to make it right because I’m crippled by fear.

I know that with every passing day, it’s only going to get worse for me and yet, my stress and fear only escalate that much more each day. It’s a catch-22 and I don’t know what to do.

So, I do the only thing I can do, which is start calling the lawyers Bri turned me on to. Duncan is at work, so I have time to at least make some calls. With Aurora in my arms, I’m dancing around the apartment making calls. I’ve just left a message for Yvette Marquez, attorney at law. She’s the third name on the list. The first two weren’t in, so I left messages for them as well.

I know it’s not much, and it’s not like I’ve gotten to speak to them or put things in motion, but the fact that I’m at least taking some steps to make sure my rights and the rights of my daughter are safeguarded, makes me feel at least a little better.

Now that things between Duncan and I seem to be getting onto a more serious track, the time to tell him about Aurora is coming. Hell, it’s past due. But I know I’m going to have to tell him sooner, rather than later, so it’s probably time to get all of my ducks in a row – just in case it all goes sideways. Just in case the love growing between us isn’t enough for him to overcome what I know he’ll see as my betrayal.

I can’t blame anybody but myself for this mess. I’m the one who’s dragged this out for so long. Sabrina was right. I should have told him from the get-go. I’ve simply let my fears and paranoia keep me from doing the smart thing. The right thing. I’ve let my emotions control me, rather than approach the problem in a more logical and rational way.

And there is a strong current of fear washing through me that I may pay a heavy price for it.

Now that she’s been fed, I kiss my baby girl on the forehead and lay her down for a nap. With her sleeping, I’m going to call the other three names on the list Bri gave me, and hopefully get to talk to a real live person. What a treat that will be.

Closing the bedroom door behind me, I set the baby monitor down on the coffee table and am just about to drop down onto the couch when there’s a knock at the door. I’m not expecting anybody, and we don’t associate with our neighbors, which means that once again, somebody managed to bypass our security door.

With a sigh, I walk down the hallway and open the door. When I see who’s on the other side, a maelstrom of emotions rises up within me – guilt and shame most prominently, but in an instant, those feelings are overridden by anger.

“What in the hell are you doing here?” I growl.

“It’s lovely to see you again too, Alexis.”

Henry Clyburne is standing in my doorway, a smug smile on his face that makes me want to punch him.

“Look,” he says. “I’m sorry about the other day. I gave a poor first impression and said some things that were cruel. For that, I want to apologize.”

“Great, you apologized,” I say. “Have a great day.”

I move to close the door, but he puts his hand on it, keeping it open, which fuels the rage already burning inside of me. Narrowing my eyes, I look at him.

“Take your hand off the door and get the fuck out of here or I’m going to kill you. Then I’m going to call the cops and tell them you forced your way in, and I had no choice,” I hiss. “I’ll tell them I was defending myself and my daughter when they come to pick up your corpse.”

“Charming,” he says. “I see you’ve given this scenario some thought.”

I shrug. “A girls gotta do, what a girls gotta do.”

“Well, this girl should let me in, so I can discuss a business proposal with her.”

I cock my head but am immediately suspicious. “What kind of business proposal?”

He holds up his briefcase and gives me a toothy grin. “Let me in and we’ll talk about it.”

Reluctantly and against my better judgment, I step aside and let him into my home. Henry walks down the hall and then into the living room, his head turning this way and that as he takes everything in. I know what he’s doing – he’s judging the way I live compared the way he lives.

As he scrutinizes the apartment, I’m just grateful I cleaned the place up. Not that it’s ever dirty – Bri and I are both a little obsessive about keeping the place clean – but I can guarantee that compared to his place, my apartment looks like a junkyard.

And as I stand there while he snoops around, I realize that comparison extends to ourselves as well. Henry is dressed in an obviously expensive and well-tailored suit. He’s tall, but more on the lean side. He certainly doesn’t have the shape of his brother and doesn’t fill out a suit quite as well as Duncan does. But it doesn’t change the fact that he’s wearing some-impeccably tailored designer clothing.

As for me? I’m in the sweatpants I was wearing last night with a long-sleeved t-shirt that’s about three sizes too big for me and large, fuzzy slippers. I’m not wearing make-up and my hair is up in a messy bun. I’m pretty much a train wreck at the moment.

Henry takes a seat at the table in the dining room and sets his briefcase on the table in front of him. He unlocks the case but doesn’t open it. Instead, he turns to me, a predatory smirk on his face. He motions to the seat across from him, obviously wanting me to sit down, so I remain standing and cross my arms over my chest defensively.

“So, you have a – nice – home,” he begins.

I shrug. “I’m sure it’s not quite up to the standards you’re used to, but it works well enough for us.”

He nods. “So, after our little meeting out on the street the other day, I did some digging into you and your background, and –”

“You did what?” I hiss. “Who in the fuck do you think you are?”

“One, nice language with a child in the house,” he sneers.

“Screw you, you judgmental bastard.”

He smirks. “And two, who I am is a concerned brother.”

“Concerned brother? Concerned about what?”

Henry sighs and looks at me with something like pity in his face, which only increases my desire to smash his head in with a blunt object.

“My brother has always been the black sheep of the family,” he says. “Instead of finance, he rebelled and went into medicine. He could never be counted on to uphold the Clyburne family name in the right way. He tends to follow his heart, more than his brains or his sense of duty.”

“Sense of duty? What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Duncan has a duty to uphold the family name – and believe me, I’m trying to put this delicately – in the right way.”

I shake my head, my anger clouding my mind and not letting me think straight. As I process Henry’s words, the meaning of his words starts to become clear to me – which only leads to yet another spike in my anger.

“So, in your estimation, being with me is somehow tarnishing your family’s name?” I ask.

Henry gives me a slight shrug. “Not to put too fine a point on things.”

I feel my eyes widen and my mouth fall open in disbelief. I cannot believe the balls on this guy.

“You have got some nerve,” I say. “To come into my home and insult me –”

“I mean no disrespect, Alexis,” he interrupts. “I’m merely pointing out that my family exists in a different social and economic sphere than yours and due to that, we have a certain image to uphold. I’m not saying it’s your fault, or that you’ve done anything wrong –”

“You know what? You can go fuck yourself, Henry,” I sneer. “You need to get out of my apartment.”

He purses his lips and sighs. “There really is no need for hostility, Alexis.”

“The hell there isn’t.”

“Please, can you sit down?” he asks. “There are important matters we need to discuss.”

“I have nothing to say to you,” I tell him. “You need to get out of my apartment. Now.”

Henry looks down for a moment, his jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists atop his briefcase – he’s trying to control his anger. When he looks up at me again, I can see that he’s in control of himself, but there is an unsettling coldness in his eyes.