Fate Interrupted (18 page)

Ben’s scruffy jaw
hit the table. “You
wanna
talk
crazy
? Trapping someone in a relationship with a fake baby is nothing!
Don’t you ever watch
Dateline
?”

She fanned a drunken
hand through the air and scanned the empty beer bottles and cupcake wrappers
littering the table between them. “So what am I
suffosed
to do? Be a stepmom to his bastard child? That should make for a nice
Chrissmas
card!”

He laughed before
growing quiet, the buzzing fluorescents filling their ears. “Listen, none of us
can tell you what to do, Evy. Only you know what you’re feeling inside. Just
trust your heart
cuz
it’ll never steer you wrong.”

She examined his
grave face through misty eyes.

Brooke crashed
back through the swinging door with two more beers and a bottle of water. “All
right, who wants to bob for Ben’s boner?”

Evy turned to
Ben. “Is it really covered in tats?”

Ben took one of
the beer bottles from his wife. “Cost you fifty bucks to find out.”

Brooke set the
water in front of Evy. “He’s not kidding either. He made a hundred and fifty
dollars at my class reunion last year.”

Evy’s brow
folded. “What?”

“No joke,” Ben
replied, pulling out his lighter.

“Didn’t that
hurt?”

“What?
Getting tattoos on my
shlong
?”
He
shrugged and popped the cap with the lighter. “The worst part was staying hard
the whole time.”

“Ewe!”
Evy squealed.

“Needless to
say, I had to use a
female
artist on
that one,” he muttered out the corner of his mouth.
“And a
fluffer
.”

Brooke folded
her arms, glaring at him from across the table. “Are you done?”

Ben raised his
eyebrows and shrugged. “I guess so.
For now.”

“Go smoke your
cigarette,” she told him, turning her attention back to Evy. “Don’t listen to a
word he says. He’s got about as much sense as a leprechaun on Thanksgiving.”

Evy hiccupped.
“I don’t even know what that means.”

Brooke took her
sister’s hand and watched Ben push through the metal door leading to the alley
out back. She exhaled a slow breath. “No one can tell you what to do.”

Evy rolled her
eyes and took a long drink of the cold water.

“But don’t be so
quick to give up on Dean.”

Evy swallowed
with a flabbergasted sigh. “I thought you just said no one can tell me what to
do.”

“No one but me,”
Brooke added, scooting her stool closer and producing a shrill scrape that
echoed off the cold walls. “He really likes you, sweetie. I can see it in his
eyes whenever he looks at you.” Brooke smiled warmly, staring at the backdoor
through doting eyes. “I know that look because Ben still looks at me like that
and we’ve been married for three and a half years.”

A faint smile
shaped Evy’s lips.

“And believe
me, that
kind of thing doesn’t come around every day.
Outside of Sarah, most of my friends ended up settling with people they can
barely stand and life’s too short for that.” She wiped frosting from Evy’s face
with her thumb. “Look what happened with you and Richie, and you almost married
him.”

Evy groaned. “Don’t
even bring him up.”

“The point is
,
nothing good comes easy. This isn’t a fairytale. No one
lives happily ever after without a fight, not in the real world anyway. You
want it, you
gotta
take it.”

Evy’s entire
body shuddered with another hiccup. “Why do you always make me feel like the
kid sister?”

Brooke’s face
brightened.
“Because I’m so smart.”

Evy bit back a
laugh.

“Hey!” Brooke
said, pulling her sister’s arm down so she could see her face. “Do you love
Dean or not?”

Evy looked up
with glassy eyes, staring blankly at Brooke like she hadn’t understood the
question.

“Do you love him
or not?”

Evy blinked a
tear down her cheek. “Yes.”

“Then fight for
him,” she whispered, leaning back and taking a drink of her beer. “Plus, if his
cock is half as big as you say it is, you can’t let that go.”

Evy shielded her
eyes with a hand. “I never said how big it is.”

“And that’s just
wrong.”

A comfortable
silence fell between them as Brooke released a lion-like yawn.

Evy looked into
her little sister’s eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

Brooke shrugged.
“For what?”

Evy reached out
and hugged her tightly.
“For always being there for me.
I love you and Ben so much. I don’t know what I’d do without you two.”

Brooke brushed
hair from Evy’s face. “Regardless of what happens, you’re going to be fine.
Just remember that.”

Ben burst
through the backdoor, a bottle of beer in his hand. “So, we
gonna
have a threesome tonight or what?”

Brooke turned to
Evy with a tired sigh. “I don’t know how I do it.”

Evy hiccupped
again. “I need a cab.”

Chapter
Nine

Dean stared at
the open folder on his desk, his eyes blurring the words together until they
formed a fuzzy block of unintelligible letters. His finger spun a pen on the
desk’s slick surface, his thoughts leaving the office in a hot air balloon and
sailing off with the wind. He wondered if there was an old family curse he wasn’t
aware of. Maybe his great, great grandpa had made one too many promises to a
secret lover, scorning her into cursing his children and their children and so
on until the end of time.

Dean spun the
pen again and watched it blur like a rotating helicopter blade.

“Dean?”

His eyes snapped
to the black phone on his desk. He hesitated before reaching out and pressing a
button. “Yes, Gina?”

“There is a Clayton Crawford here to see you.”

His eyebrows
dipped together as he scanned his mental rolodex. He flipped to the calendar on
his
iPad
and came up empty. No appointments.

“Megan Crawford’s father.”

Dean tried to
swallow the lump in his throat but it wouldn’t budge. He whispered a swear word
and pressed the button again. “Send him in,” he said, slapping the folder shut
and sliding an open package of peanut butter M&Ms into a desk drawer. He
ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing
pulse. Just when he thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse…

The door clicked
open and Gina greeted him with an arched eyebrow, the unscheduled appointment
lurking just behind her. The tall man in a tailored suit smiled at her as he whisked
past, entering Dean’s office with a confident stride. “Hello Dean,” he smiled
warmly, extending his hand with his fingers splayed. “Clayton Crawford.”

Dean got up on
rubbery legs and rounded the desk, accepting the man’s firm grip and admiring
the way his ice blue eyes set off his distinguished head of gray hair. “Dean
Jacobs. Have a seat.” He gestured to the two chairs in front of the desk and
smiled at Gina. “Thank you, Gina.”

She stared
blankly at him for a few seconds before slowly shutting the door and leaving them
alone. Clayton sat down and Dean returned to the high back chair behind the
desk. The leather creaked as Dean sat down and quietly exhaled a pent-up
breath. Clayton crossed his legs like a girl and folded his hands on one knee,
smiling at Dean from across the desk. A wall clock ticked off audible seconds
that seemed louder with each successive click. They held each others’ gaze, no
one willing to commit to speaking first. A foreboding cloud of gloom rolled through
the pit of Dean’s stomach. He could feel sweat forming across his upper lip and
hoped Clayton didn’t notice. Dean shifted in his chair. Another loud groan pierced
the awkward silence between them as Clayton’s expensive cologne washed over
Dean like a swarm of angry insects burrowing into every orifice they could find.

“I apologize for
the pop-in; I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”

Dean shook his
head, working to maintain a polite smile. “I’m in between meetings.”

A grin tugged at
the corner of Clayton’s mouth. His eyes wandered the office, taking in the generic
paintings, framed degrees, and thick law books lining two walls.
“Marquette huh?”

Dean pressed his
lips together and nodded.

“Great
school.
What kind of law do you practice, Dean?”

“Corporate.”

Clay tipped his
head back and nodded. “Your parents must be very proud.”

Dean rested his
elbows on the desk and interlocked his fingers together. “What can I do for
you, Mr. Crawford?”

“Please, call me
Clay,” he replied, adjusting the lavender necktie that matched the silk
handkerchief peeking over a breast pocket. “Mr. Crawford was my father,” he
said with a poster boy smile.

Dean didn’t
respond.

Clay took a deep
breath. “After Megan’s little
bombshell
,
I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself. I know this isn’t easy for any
of us.”

The word
us
made Dean cringe inside, but he managed
to remain unreadable.

“She can
certainly be a handful at times, no one knows that better than I, but I just
wanted to tell you how much I appreciate what you said to her last night. It
was especially comforting for her mother, who, as you can imagine, is just
beside herself right now.” His cold gaze tightened. “The sky is always falling
with her,” he said, a tight-lipped smile spreading across his tanned face.

Dean swallowed
dryly, trying to figure out which part of last night’s horrific conversation Megan’s
mother had found so comforting.

“It was a very
kind gesture on your part offering to stand by her throughout this…sordid affair.”

Dean almost
laughed out loud but managed to swallow it. He spread his palms apart on the
desk. “Well, I’ll be glad to do whatever I can.”

Clay nodded,
weighing Dean’s words with patient care. He glanced at a picture of Dean and Evy
on a bookshelf and jerked his strong chin to it. “Is that the girlfriend Megan
was telling us about?”

Dean’s breath
hitched. The clock ticked louder, launching the onset of a sharp headache near
his brainstem. The last thing he wanted was to drag Evy any further into this
mess than he had to. He followed Clay’s curious gaze to the framed shot of he
and Evy’s smiling faces inside Miller Park, where the Brewers were adding to a
three run lead against the Chicago Cubs in the background. He turned back to
Clay and replied with a faint nod.

“Pretty
girl.”

“Thank you.”

“So how does she
feel about all of this?” Clay asked with a sinister grin that made Dean sweat.
“I imagine it must be very difficult.”

“It sounds like
you’ve already got enough to worry about.”

Clay raised his
brow. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll have some tickets sent over,” he said with
a wink. “Megan isn’t the biggest fan of baseball in the world but she does
enjoy going to the games.”

An eerie
stillness swept over the room, cloaking them in a period of unease the clock
ticked off one painstaking second at a time.

“Listen, Dean, I
want you to know it takes a real man to make certain
sacrifices
in order to live up to his responsibilities, and I
admire that about you. I really do.”

Dean honed his
gaze, a gnawing feeling eating away at his nerves. He resisted the urge to wipe
the sweat from his upper lip as Clay grinned at him.

Clay flicked his
wrist out and checked a Rolex crafted from gun metal. He exhaled a tired breath
and slapped a hand on the desk, making Dean flinch. “Well, I just wanted to
introduce myself and say thank you for being so understanding about this whole…
situation
.” A forced smile cut across
his toned cheeks. “We’ll get through it.”

Dean got up from
his chair when Clay did, eager as hell for this man that smelled of designer
cologne and classy cigars to leave his office.

Clay extended a
hand and that million dollar smile. “Nice to meet you, Dean,” he said, shaking
Dean’s hand with a sturdy grip. The clock ticked and Clay turned for the door,
not moving nearly fast enough in Dean’s mind.

Clay gripped the
doorknob and turned back to Dean, pinching his cold eyes together. “Oh, before
I forget, would you be able to take Megan to an ultrasound check up tomorrow
morning? Her mother and I will be at a rally up north all day and Nancy would
feel a lot better knowing you were with her.” He smiled warmly at Dean.
“Hearing your child’s heartbeat for the first time really is the most precious
moment of your life.”