“So what do you think?” London asked, jerking his attention back.
He managed a smile. “I think it’s great.” A great non-answer, guilt needled him. He shouldn’t care about Vanessa’s driving in the rain. What she did wasn’t any of his concern. He was on a date with a woman who actually liked having a relationship with him, and she didn’t slice away a bit of his heart every time they met. But somehow his mind rebelled at being in the restaurant, and he controlled his breathing. Vanessa was like a bottle of booze to a recovering alcoholic. One sip and he was done for.
When his phone buzzed in his pocket, he excused himself to check it. Anything to delay London from launching into the merits of stilettos.
His mood grew as dark as the weather outside when he noticed a text from Vanessa. He should delete it. It was probably something that would upset him. Or tempt him.
But he recalled her pallor. She’d looked absolutely wretched and tired, and he’d never seen her like that. Was her parents’ divorce weighing her down? She was close to her mother, and he knew the situation with her parents had always bothered her. Even though their marriage had been a joke of cosmic proportions, everyone had assumed Salazar and Ceinlys Pryce would always stay married to each other.
Cursing himself, he thumbed the screen. Then blinked.
I’m pregnant.
His heart thumped, and the words jumbled in his mind. It couldn’t be…
He stared at the text again, willing it to make sense. But no. It was still the same two words.
His body went slack. Now he understood why she’d been at his place. She probably wanted to talk about the baby. He remembered how she’d smiled her lawyer smile at London and climbed into her car as soon as possible without appearing rude. What else could she have done with the other woman there?
Closing his eyes, he let out a soft sigh. So many thoughts tumbled through his mind, but one thing was clear. He couldn’t let her go now.
“London, I’m sorry, but it’s an emergency. Do you mind?”
“No, not at all,” she said. “Business?”
“Something like that. I’ll call you a car.”
“You’re so sweet.” She smiled at him, her eyes semi-vacant now that they were no longer talking about shoes. “Thanks.”
Her simple understanding made him feel lower than dirt. She might not be the most brilliant or interesting woman he knew, but she was one of the sweetest. He couldn’t continue to sit with her and fake-laugh and fake-talk his way through the lunch. She deserved better.
And he and Vanessa were having a baby.
He took care of the meal and climbed into his Bentley. He dialed Vanessa’s number, but she didn’t pick up. Damn it.
Grinding his teeth, he texted Vanessa. Where are you?
A little bit later, he got a response. Did you see the text I sent you earlier?
Yes.
That was a mistake. I meant to send it to somebody else.
He snorted. Who? I wanna send onesies. When she didn’t respond, he scowled. Vanessa, if you don’t tell me where you are, I’m going to get the cops out looking for you.
You wouldn’t.
I can and I will. Guess who’s on my speed dial? Not to mention the tons of money he’d donated to the memorial funds and others for Chicago’s finest.
I’m pulled over on I-90. Other than that, no idea where I am.
Stay right there. Justin instructed his driver to take I-90 toward O’Hare and look for a maroon Taurus on the shoulder.
It didn’t take that long to find Vanessa’s rental. It had the emergency blinkers on. Thank god she couldn’t drive in the rain. Otherwise she would’ve left the city by now. In Los Angeles she was a speed demon.
Justin jumped out of his car and ran to it before his driver could bring out the umbrella. The icy rain soaked him instantly, and he pounded on the passenger door. Vanessa unlocked it.
“You’re going to ruin the seat,” she said, staring straight out the windshield. Her voice was tight.
“I don’t give a damn.”
She sniffled. The obvious signs of fatigue and her loss of weight hit him again, but this time they took on another dimension.
“Are you eating and sleeping well?” he asked, trying not to show his exasperation. “You know, all those things pregnant women should do.”
“Of course.”
She was lying through her teeth. Knowing her, she probably did billable work in her dreams too. “The baby’s the reason why you came to see me,” Justin said.
“I didn’t. I don’t even know what made me text that.”
“Really.”
“You aren’t even going to question whether it’s really yours?”
“Who else’s could it be?” She wouldn’t have texted him if it wasn’t his.