Arrogant Playboy(30)
She sighs.
I peer across the table. The guys are watching me like I’m about to perform some kind of Voodoo ritual. I point a finger up and excuse myself, dashing from the conference room and finding a quiet hallway.
“Listen,” I say to the woman when I’m alone. The things I’m about to say are hurtful but only half-true. Beckham doesn’t need to hear them. “He’s not that great. He’s just good at making people think he’s great. He’s like a desert mirage, you know? He looks like something we want, but it’s all an illusion.”
She’s quiet.
“You still there?” I ask.
A sigh comes through her end. “Yes.”
“Calling him repeatedly is a huge waste of your time, and honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors by acting like some crazy ex-girlfriend,” I lay the words as gently as possible, though it’s difficult to be sympathetic when someone’s behaving like a lunatic. “Am I making sense?”
“Give him a message for me, will you?” Her voice is surprisingly pert all of a sudden. “Tell him to go fuck himself. And I hope his fucking cock falls off. Oh, and my friend is about to give birth to his baby.”
“Y-your friend?”
“Yeah,” she snips. “I’m not stupid enough to sleep with that fuckwad but she was. She’s being induced tonight at New York General. It’s a girl. Tell him congratu-fucking-lations.”
My heart falls, sinking to the deepest part of me. “D-does he know?”
“Hell if I know. She won’t tell us a damn thing, just that the baby is his.”
“I’m sure if he knew, he’d be there.”
Beckham might be a lot of things, but I can’t imagine him being a deadbeat father.
“He probably doesn’t know. I’ll talk to him,” I say.
“Yeah, you do that. And tell him to man up or I’ll personally see to it he’s paying out the ass for child support for the next eighteen years.”
My heart races at the thought of dropping this bomb on him. Here I thought I was saving another broken heart Beckham left in his path of manwhoring destruction.
“What’s your friend’s name?” I ask.
“Eva Delgado,” she says. “And if he wants to talk to her from now on, he’ll go through me.”
“I’ll relay the message right away.” My fingers quake, weighted by the kind of news I never expected to deliver.
My legs wobble as I amble back to the conference room. The walk back feels longer than the one that carried me to that quiet hall. Beckham and Dane observe with amused smirks as I shut the door quietly and hand Beckham his phone.
“How’d it go?” Beckham asks.
A long breath drags across my lips as I sink down into my chair. My bottom lip falls, and my gaze drifts between theirs.
“Congratulations,” I say.
“What the hell are you talking about, Odessa?” Beckham laughs.
“You’re going to be a father.” I search his eyes for a hint of something that tells me he had no idea.
Chapter Fifteen
BECKHAM
It’s impossible.
But at the same time it isn’t.
Nothing rattles me, but I’m shaking like a leaf and Odessa hasn’t stopped staring at me since this morning. She’s unusually quiet, and I’m particularly grateful. This situation is none of her business, and I’m not about to shell out the complicated details.
The plane grounds at JFK, and I unbuckle my seatbelt before we come to a stop. I’ve got to get the hell out of here, call my attorney, call Dr. Brentwood and rush to the hospital.
If this kid is in fact mine, I refuse to miss its birth. I’ll deal with Eva the first chance I get.
Two cabs wait for us at the tarmac, and I watch Odessa pull away in one as I climb inside mine. I pull up the number from this morning, the one belonging to Eva’s friend, and call her back.
“Where is she? Which room?” I ask the second she answers.
“Is this Beckham?”
“Yes. Where can I find Eva?”
“Room 8174,” she says. “Pitocin’s been dripping a couple hours. Contractions are starting. Doctor thinks she’ll be here soon, so get your sorry ass down here.”
“She?”
“Yep. It’s a girl.” I’ve never felt so much hatred in someone’s voice. Apparently she doesn’t know Eva as well as I do.
“On my way.” I end the call, tapping the driver on the shoulder and handing him an extra twenty to step on it. Spinning through my contacts, I find my attorney’s cell and give him a call. His voicemail picks up on the first ring. He’s probably in Tahiti or some shit like that. I scan through my contacts once more, dialing Dr. Brentwood’s office and telling his secretary that an emergency has come up.