Tory left and it took Amedeo a few minutes to get back to the calm of a few minutes ago. He still had the papers in his hand while he contemplated putting them in the garbage. Maybe he should know about the mother of his child. What type of DNA was she contributing to his child?
He entered the elevator to take him back to his office, but he wasn’t sure if what she’d done in the past mattered. She was still carrying his child. Her past had no effect on the future in this case.
Unless she’d killed someone and not in self-defense. That would be a game changer. He would have to get custody of the baby. He would raise him or her. He couldn’t let a murderer raise his child.
When the elevator doors opened, he was sure he was going to read what Tory had given him. He settled at his desk, but he had misgivings. He and Violet had never spoken about what had come before their night of passion. Was any of this his business?
Yes it was. She carried his child. She was possibly going to raise his child. He should know what he was in for.
“Or should I ask her first?”
He was torn. He wanted to know and didn’t want to know at the same time. He wasn’t usually this indecisive. Finally he smoothed out the papers on his desk and set about reading them.
This was a juvenile file. How did Tory get ahold of it? She must have done something illegal because this should have been expunged or at least sealed when Violet turned eighteen.
He sighed. Armed robbery. An accessory to armed robbery, really. That could mean a lot of things. She could have just been in the car or she could have masterminded it. That wasn’t the woman he knew. She was kind and funny and sexy.
Damn. Now he was sorry he looked at this paper. He should have talked to Violet first. This was an invasion of her privacy. She wouldn’t expect this to come back to haunt her. She’d been younger than eighteen when it happened.
He rose from his desk, feeling guilty, but knew he had to talk to Violet. With it being almost lunch time, maybe he could coax her out. He needed to know her side or the story.
She didn’t look up when he entered her office. He sat and waited for her to notice him. Not his usual stance, but he felt bad about seeing her arrest record. She was a grown woman now and shouldn’t have to answer for what she’d done as a teenager.
“You just going to stare at me?” she said.
Her gaze had connected with his for a moment as her fingers danced across the keyboard. She hadn’t paused.
“You ready for lunch?”
“The department has already ordered something for me.”
They could talk in her office. He would close the door.
“I saw Tory,” she said.
Her office did overlook the front sidewalk. Maybe this was his opening. “Yes, she was here.”
Violet nodded, but didn’t ask him anything else.
“I need to talk to you about something,” Amedeo said.
She sighed, her fingers pausing over her keyboard. “Can this wait until tonight? I’m on a roll here.”
“I guess.”
She was right. It could wait. Her answer didn’t impact anything she was doing for him. He rose. “We can talk tonight.”
“Thanks, Amedeo.”
He nodded then left. He should leave her to her work and they could talk tonight. He hoped he liked what she had to say.
Chapter7
Violet was dog tired and fell asleep during their ride home from work. This pregnancy stuff was taking a bite out of her ass. She’d always had plenty of energy to get through her day. She woke when Amedeo put her on the couch in his living room.
“What?” she said, blinking?
“Shh. Go back to sleep. I’ll wake you for dinner.”
She snuggled down into the couch, but didn’t go back to sleep. She couldn’t have moved if the couch had caught fire. Damn. This was going to be a long pregnancy.
Amedeo came back later, putting his hand out. “Dinner’s ready.”
“Thanks for cooking,” she said.
She took a moment to get her bearings before she stood. He led her to the kitchen. The food smelled good. Pasta sauce of some kind over spaghetti.
“No problem, Violet. Are you doing too much at work?”
She slid onto the stool next to him. “No. I guess I’m just tired from being pregnant.”
“I looked a few things up on the Internet while you were sleeping. It’s normal to be this tired in your first trimester.”
She nodded then dug into her food. Her stomach felt like a pit that was never going to be filled. She knew they had to talk about something, but she had no idea what it was. Not important until she fed herself.
When she finished her second plate, Amedeo was lounging in his chair, rolling wine around in his glass. He looked relaxed.