AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I—Wow. Okay. She’s your… daughter.”
I blink rapidly, as if it’s going to make this whole situation make sense. The image of Reese Dalton, the playboy hockey star with five hundred women on a figurative Rolodex does not exist on the same plane as Reese, doting father who almost cracks his molars at the mere thought of someone so much as knowing his daughter’s pretty little name.
Well then. Looking at him like a father still isn’t really sinking in, but who in their right mind would know anything about Reese Dalton and say, Yeah, he’s daddy material?
I’m going to have my work cut out for me.
He nods and pops his knuckles one by one.
“Look,” I say, “I’m not one to judge. But what’s with all the secrecy? It’s not like it’s weird for athletes to have kids out of nowhere?—”
“It just is.”
His voice says, Do not go any farther. I take the hint and fall silent.
As I look over these past few pages of the NDA, my panic picks up speed. This feels like a lot can go south in a hurry. What if I slip up? Or what if he even thinks I slipped up? It could mean trouble for me, and after the Harrison nightmare, trouble is the last thing I want.
I sigh. Mom needs this. My savings can’t keep her afloat for long, and sooner or later, the loan collectors will come knocking for what they’re owed.
So in the end, it’s not really much of a choice.
I scrawl my signature over the last lines. It somehow feels like I’m signing something of my life away to this man and his secret daughter.
“Sweet.”
Reese stands and scoops up all the papers nonchalantly, like he didn’t just drop this big ass bombshell in my lap. “You’ll get plenty of time to get to know each other. I’m gone this week. Big preseason training going on in Canada. I’ll make sure Paula fills you in on the odds and ends. Oh, and a key.”
He saunters off, humming a tune to himself. This man is something else. I can’t get a read on him. Playboy, secret father, something deeper he’s hiding? And what about Violet’s mother? Surely she’s not out of the picture entirely?
You’re not getting paid to sleuth, Olivia. You’re getting paid to raise this guy’s baby.
That good angel voice in my head is right, but that doesn’t stop some more uncharitable thoughts from flitting through. She probably wasn’t even planned. If Reese gets around as much as the papers say he does, any one of those women might be Violet’s mother.
And just think, you were fingering yourself thinking about his tongue on your?—
“Ms. Carter?”
I jump. In the span of my full-blown conversation with myself, Reese has disappeared and Paula has arrived. She stands in the doorframe, eyeing me like she thinks I’m missing a few marbles.
Wonderful start to our working relationship.
“Yeah. Sorry. Is there anything else Reese needs?”
“Mr. Dalton told me to show you to the nursery.”
Despite the fact Reese was the one who told me to call him by his name, I get the feeling that Paula doesn’t like the fact that I do.
Rather than cop an attitude, I follow her up the stairs. It’s a monstrously huge mansion. He could sleep in a different bedroom every night of the week. But it’s so bare.
I notice pictures of Reese and his mom hanging on the walls of the hallway as Paula leads me down. No other women in sight.
When we get to the nursery, I can tell that Reese’s inability to decorate has spilled into this room. There are a few boxes with DALTON written sloppily on the side. Bundles of hockey sticks are stacked on top. No drapes on the windows, no rug to give some life to the bare wooden floor. The box that the massive crib in the middle of the room came in is still in the corner, spilling its Styrofoam guts like some kind of slain beast that was victim to Reese’s unpreparedness for fatherhood.
Yeah, I definitely have my work cut out for me.
But my judgment of the “nursery” stops short when I approach the crib. Because inside is a soft, sleeping baby.
My heart clenches. She’s so peaceful. Her cheeks are fat and her chubby fingers cling to a bright yellow baby blanket that still has the tag on it. I laugh. Okay, that’s kind of cute. I’ll have to make sure Reese knows that he has to clip all the tags on everything, unless he wants to add a hefty bill for a hospital trip to his baby tab.
