Broken (18 page)

Troubled, she scooped a wandering Zoe up in her arms before she could get too far.

“I’ll have someone draw up the plans and bring them by next week for your approval,” Bill said to her.

“Once you get started, how long do you think it will take to complete?” she asked.

He shrugged. “No more than two or three months at the most, depending upon how long it takes the inspectors to get out here. We’ll have to pull the permits, but I don’t anticipate any problems on that end, and money isn’t an issue for Max like it is for most folks, so hiring on extra crew if I need it will be a snap.”

Zoe was yawning and rubbing her eyes sleepily. “Okay. It’s Zoe’s bedtime. I’d better take her inside and get her ready for bed,” Cassidy said and headed for the front of the house.

Max walked with her, once again lending his support.

Cassidy went inside with Zoe and gave her a bath. A half an hour later, Zoe had been given her medicine, read a bedtime story, and was tucked under the covers, fast asleep.

“Zoe, what am I going to do about your daddy?” Cassidy whispered to the sleeping toddler.

Receiving no answer nor expecting any, Cassidy turned off the light and went into the kitchen. She found Max in there cleaning away their dinner dishes. “Did Bill leave?”

“Yes, he’s gone.”

“He’s nice. How did you two meet?” she asked, taking down a glass to pour some water.

“We worked on a few projects together. Is Zoe asleep?” he asked, abruptly changing the subject.

“Yes,” she answered, tone wary.

“You have a moment? I’d like to discuss something with you.” His deep blue eyes were very serious, very intent as they gazed into hers.

Heart pounding a rapid tattoo, Cassidy said, “Sure. In here or in the living room?”

“Let’s go into the living room. It’s quieter,” he said as he started the dishwasher.

He motioned gallantly for her to lead the way. Cassidy turned and walked on legs that trembled into the living room, surreptitiously wiping palms that were suddenly sweaty on the front of her denim clad thighs. She settled gratefully into the recliner, drawing her legs up and holding them to her chest in an unconsciously protective manner.

Did he finally want to discuss last night? Is this the part where Max told her she was right, last two nights were a mistake?

Max sat on the couch and began to speak. “I saw my attorney today. I changed my will, making Zoe my beneficiary with you as the executor. If I die before Zoe is twenty-five, her inheritance goes into trust with you as the trustee. If you don’t want the responsibility, let me know and I can have the firm set up an independent trustee. I prefer not to do so as the fee for their services will come out of the trust, lessening Zoe’s inheritance.”

“No, I can do it,” Cassidy said, her voice faint with shock.

 “I also had them draw up child support paperwork. They should be contacting you shortly to find out how you want to be paid. We can route all founds through the State Collection and Disbursement Unit—”

“I don’t think getting the state involved is necessary,” she said hastily.

Max nodded. “All right. As I said, you’ll be contacted. They’ve been authorized to make payment however you request—monthly check mailed, direct deposit. It’s your choice. I’ve instructed them to make payment retroactive to Zoe’s birthdate.”

Since Cassidy hadn’t told Max Zoe’s exact birthdate, she wondered how he knew. Then she remembered it had been reported in the paper. Max was intelligent enough to figure it out from what he read online. “Max,” she began carefully, “I appreciate the gesture, but it’s completely unnecessary. You can’t be expected to support a child you didn’t know you had.”

His blue eyes flashed briefly before he muted them, his expression becoming hard and determined. “She’s my child, Cassidy. Supporting Zoe is my right and my privilege, not just my responsibility.”

And he’d been denied it. Max didn’t say the words, but she heard what was left unspoken. Capitulating, she acquiesced with a nod.

“I also spoke with him concerning correcting Zoe’s birth certificate.” Here Max paused and seemed to gather his words before carefully continuing. “After explaining the situation, he said that under the circumstances, it would be…extremely difficult, to get the courts to recognize me as Zoe’s legal, biological father.”

Cassidy waited, knowing there was more.

“Not only is Phillip deceased, making DNA testing impossible without having the body exhumed—”

She drew in a sharp breath, everything within her rejecting the very idea of it. How would she explain it to Nell, to Brian?

“—the one paternity test we have on file lists Phillip as the father. Not only that, there have been insurance payouts, settlements, and I’m certain, Social Security benefits paid on the assumption that Zoe is Phillip’s child.” Max arched an eyebrow in inquiry. “Am I correct?”

“Yes.” Her voice trembled. Max was building to something, but she didn’t know what.

“The financial and legal ramifications alone are potentially staggering.” Max paused to let that sink in.

She thought about the legal nightmare. Would she be expected to repay all of it? Zoe’s hospital bills had been paid by both her and Phillip’s insurance companies. Would his insurance company demand their portion, which was easily six digits, back? And what about the settlements she and Zoe had received as a result of the lawsuits Brian had brought forth on their behalf? Could the defendants come back and demand the case be reviewed in light of Zoe’s paternity being incorrect? Would Social Security demand reimbursement? All things considered, they hadn’t paid out nearly as much as the others, but who wanted to fight with the government?

 “Then there’s Phillip’s parents,” he said.

Cassidy felt her brows draw together. “What about them?” They wouldn’t be happy, but she knew Nell, at least, suspected Zoe was Max’s child, though they’d never really talked about it. It had been Nell who’d filled out the paperwork for Zoe’s birth certificate, listing Phillip as Zoe’s father.

“Right now they have a claim to Zoe as her legal grandparents, even if she isn’t their biological progeny. Depending on how we handle it, that would change.” Max’s steady gaze never left hers.

She rubbed wearily at her forehead, feeling overwhelmed. “What are you saying, Max? You’ve decided not to petition the courts to become Zoe’s legal father?”

If possible, his gaze became even more intent. “That’s not what I’m suggesting at all. I fully intend to claim my child, in every way possible, Cassidy. Make no mistake about it.”

“So what’s this about?” she said, a hint of irritation creeping into her tone. He was leading her down the path. She wanted to get there already. The suspense was killing her. She never had done well with surprises.

“The simplest, quickest way for me to get what I want is through a step-parent adoption.”

“Step-parent adoption?” she echoed blankly.

“My lawyer suggests we marry so I can adopt Zoe as my child,” Max explained.

Cassidy frowned. “But…Zoe’s already yours.”

Then what he said hit her. Max expected her to marry him.

Cassidy’s eyes went wide and her legs tumbled from the chair to land on the floor. Her hands gripped the arms of the recliner so tight, it’s a wonder her nails didn’t break. If she were a horse, the whites of her eyes would be showing. Max could almost smell her panic.

Not exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for, but the one he’d expected. Sort of. Actually, he thought Cassidy would be pissed. She’d made her feelings on marriage with him crystal clear. He’d expected accusations of coercion and guilt trips to get what he wanted. Her fear…intrigued and puzzled him. He wanted to know what was going on inside her head.

Since she appeared shocked into silence, Max continued while he had the opportunity. He’d thought long and hard on how to present the idea to Cassidy in as reasonable and non-threatening a manner as possible. Now that he’d committed himself, it was too late to stop.

“You’ve made clear your feelings about our relationship, or lack thereof, and your desire to keep it that way. What I’m proposing is a marriage in name only, a mere legal formality. We already share a residence. I’ve checked. If you’re agreeable, we can go to the courthouse and apply for a self-uniting marriage license. Five days later, if all goes well, we go back to the courthouse, sign our names to the certificate, and
viola!
, we’re married—no ceremony, no vows, no pomp and circumstance necessary.  I would prefer, for the sake of the court, that we each wear wedding rings, but we can forego even that tradition if you’ve an objection to it.”

Max studied her closely, trying to tell from her expression what her response would be. When he’d said, “marriage in name only,” her face had blanked, and now her eyes were lowered. As a result, he didn’t have a clue.

“My attorney says it’s really the best way to go. Step-parent adoptions don’t affect SSI benefits, so you won’t have any problems there. People may suspect I’m Zoe’s biological father, but with the adoption, that’s all it will be, suspicion.” Remembering her nightmare from last night, he added softly, “To the world, Phillip will still be Zoe’s father.”

The other man had died protecting Max’s child, though he’d thought Zoe his at the time. Max wasn’t so selfish he couldn’t allow a little posthumous honoring of Phillip’s brave actions. “But I still want Zoe to carry my last name,” he said, just so there was no misunderstanding between them. He’d only take the Phillip thing so far.

“You too,” he added as though it were an afterthought. “It will make things easier on Zoe in school if we all have the same last name.” It was taking all his skill and training as a lawyer not to betray how important this was to him. Out of sight, his hands were fisted as he fought to keep his tone casual and unconcerned.

“How long?” she asked, sounding a bit hoarse.

“How long what?” he asked, thrown by the question.

“How long would you expect us to stay married?” she clarified, still not looking at him.

They weren’t even married and she was already thinking divorce? Max was glad she couldn’t see the shock, and the fury that crossed his face before he caught himself.
Till death do us part, baby, and not one minute less.