Page 27 of The Dom

Nate

The expression on Finley’s face when he knocked on my office door told me that this wasn’t going to be a friendly chat. He had something on his mind, and it didn’t take much imagination to figure out what it was even before he spoke. I doubted he’d been thinking about anything else this past weekend. I wouldn’t have if I’d been in his shoes.

“Do you have a few minutes?” he asked. His tone was polite, but there was a steel to it that he’d never had with me before.

If I said no, he’d ask when we could talk, and it would only put off things. That wouldn’t be good for either of us. Better to get everything out in the open as soon as possible.

“Sure.” I turned my attention away from my computer and gave it all to him. I folded my hands in front of me and waited for him to sit. When he did, I gave him the opening to get the conversation going. “I’m assuming you’re here about Ashlee.”

“I am.” He seemed to struggle to find the right words and finally sighed. “Look, Nate, I’ve known you for a long time, and I like to think that I know you better than most.”

He paused, waiting for a response.

“Both true.”

He continued, “I’ve watched you go through girlfriends and ‘partners’ the same way every time.”

Also true, but I didn’t say it this time because I knew where he was going with this.

“You can’t treat Ashlee that way.”

I appreciated that he didn’t dance around it. “I don’t, and I won’t.”

“I value our friendship,” he said, “but I don’t know if it would survive if you mistreat her.” He held up a hand to stop the protest I was already forming. “I know you’d never abuse her. You’re not that kind of man. But you’re also not known for your kindness, especially when it comes to relationships. You treat them like business transactions, and I only ever speak up about it when it affects the company. But not with Ashlee. Even if she wasn’t working here, I’d have to tell you that you can’t fuck around with her heart.”

I was torn between wanting to tell him that I was grateful that he was looking out for the woman I cared about and flipping him off for acting like he had any right to tell me what I should or shouldn’t do.

What came out was neither.

“You don’t know Ashlee.” The words sounded harsher than I’d intended, and I took a second to soften the next statement. “For all we know, she might not be your daughter.”

His eyes narrowed. “I believe her.”

“I do too,” I agreed, then clarified, finally giving voice to the thought I’d had running through my head ever since she told me her story. “I believe that she believes. I don’t doubt that she went to that clinic and saw your name. I don’t doubt that she is certain she didn’t make a mistake.”

“But you think she did.”

I shrugged. “I think that there’s a chance, and she hasn’t let herself consider that. It was a quick look. Your name may have caught her eye for other reasons. The records could be wrong. There are some valid possibilities.”

He was silent for nearly a full minute, and I didn’t interrupt him. It was a lot to think about. Any other man would’ve demanded a paternity test right off the bat. Or at least after the shock had worn off.

Finley hadn’t even blinked. He’d accepted her story without question. Well, he’d had questions, but none of them had been about the validity or accuracy of her story.

“You think I should dig a little deeper,” he said at last. “You want me to take this lovely, sweet young woman and pick apart her story so I can know for certain that she shares my DNA?”

“I don’t think a paternity test would be too much to ask,” I admitted. “Do you both want to get involved in each other’s lives as father and daughter only to find out at some point down the road that she was wrong?”

He stood up. “If Ashlee wants to talk to you about this, that’s her choice, but unless she does, you need to stay out of it. How she and I handle things is between us. It’s not your concern.”

He walked out before I could tell him that it damn well was my concern. Anything to do with Ashlee was. She was part of my life, and I wasn’t going to see her hurt by anyone.

Except my history warned that it would probably be me who’d hurt her in the end.

Eighteen

Ashlee

I was starting to believe that my relationship with Nate might work. Things had already gotten calmer now that Finley knew about me. Sure, it was bound to be a little awkward between him and Finley. One was my father, and I was sleeping with the other one, and they were friends. That sounded like the perfect recipe for awkwardness.

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