Page 62 of Pregnant By the Playboy
Dad, like Julian, is usually punctual. But a couple years ago, he arrived right on time at my penthouse...and let’s just say, he saw some stuff that we both wish he hadn’t seen. Ever since, he’s made a point of coming exactly fifteen minutes late when he’s meeting me at home.
Sure enough, he arrives at ten forty-five. I usher him inside and offer him tea, but he refuses.
We sit on couches in the living room, and when he doesn’t immediately say anything, I glance out the window. One thing I love about this place is the view of the lake to the south. Every day, the sky and lake are slightly different colors. I’d never realized the lake could be so many different colors until I moved here.
I turn back to my dad. “So, what did I do this time?” I ask with a lopsided smile.
He’s still quiet.
This is alarming.
“It’s about Marissa,” he says at last.
I grip the sofa. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m just a little worried... Vince, you’re wealthy, and that’s no secret. There are some people who might take advantage of you.”
I lean forward. “What are you saying?”
“You’re not stupid, even if you act like it sometimes.”
“Thank you?”
“I’m sure you were using birth control, but do you think it’s possible she tampered with it? She could be looking for a big child support payment. And are you certain the child is yours?”
Okay, now I’m seeing red.
“Dad, this is absurd.”
“But there are people who will do such things.”
“Not Marissa.”
“How well do you know her?”
“Reasonably well.”
“I know you’re excited about being a father. I just want you to be aware of the possibility. I got to where I did in business because I didn’t let people take advantage of me.”
“Marissa would never do that,” I say. “We haven’t talked directly about support payments, but I offered to help her financially so she could stay home with the child until they start school, and she said no. It’s important to her to be financially independent. She grew up without much money.”
“So perhaps she wants the security of having yours.”
“I offered to marry her, and she said no. Hell, I tried to pay for dinner last night, and after a ten-minute argument, I gave up and let her pay.”
“I thought you two weren’t together?”
“We’re dating now.”
“When you proposed to her, did you mean it?”
“Of course! Why else would I have done it? What do you take me for?”
But perhaps I shouldn’t blame him. I’ve always been the not-so-serious, troublesome youngest child. Even when I was working 24/7, I acted that way with my family.
He frowns. “You love her?”
“I’m not answering that question.”
