Page 50 of Enchant Me

The words are typed in boldface, and Evelyn has texted an image of the paper.

Another text follows, this one with the familiar handwritten note:

That’s what the tabloids will be saying, and it will be true. Because he’s an irresponsible, self-centered liar. He kept the truth hidden from the world. Hidden from his wife. What will his children think when they learn? The children who know they belong to him, anyway. How long did he think he could keep this up? This pretense that his life with his wife and his picture perfect family is so good and perfect. There’s another child out there. I have proof. And I will reveal it tomorrow.

I read the words with a frown, but they don’t scare me in the same way that the note calling me a whore did. That note was in our house. This one is just delusional.

And it’s not as if Damien and I haven’t faced something like this before. Not that long ago, a woman he once dated insisted that her son was Damien’s child. Ultimately, records showed that Damien was not related to the little boy, but she’d spent plenty of time harassing us and trying to get the media’s attention.

I’m sure this is the same thing, and I tell Evelyn as much.

“I imagine you’re right,” Evelyn says. “But you need to keep two things in mind. The first is that we both know Damien had many years with many women before you came along. I’m sure he was careful, but you never know the truth. And you should be prepared.”

“Of course, I am. But this isn’t about finding someone’s birth father. This is about harassment, maybe even revenge. But for what?”

“Isn’t that the question of the hour?” Evelyn says. “And I agree. But I also wanted to give you a heads-up about this. I figured you’re weren’t with Damien tonight—I know Jamie, after all. But I need to let him know about this, and I called you first because I knew you’d want to scoot on home to our boy.”

“No, let me tell him,” I say, though the thought of actually showing him Evelyn’s text makes me ill. “We’ll call you after, but I think it should be me.”

“Are you sure, Texas?”

“Yes. What do you think the proof is?”

“I don’t know. There might be none and it’s a complete bluff. There might be a paternity test. There might be a birth certificate. Who knows? I guess we’ll find out tomorrow. Charles took this to Judge Kaplan an hour ago. I’m afraid the court refused to issue an injunction to prevent the various papers and sites from publishing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t speak legalese, but what I gather from Charles is that the bottom line is that we don’t yet know who to enjoin. There are hundreds of places that could publish this, but we don’t know whose actually sending the texts. Plus, there’s the First Amendment coupled with the whole thing being speculative. We don’t even know what this person’s going to say or if it’s true. Plus, it’s no secret that Damien’s weathered a lot of scandal. So the court doesn’t want to stifle something that might be true, when a falsehood won’t actually impact Damien’s reputation.”

I drag my hands through my hair, thinking that this is absurd, but there’s nothing I can do or say that will stop it. “All right. He’s over at Jackson’s house with the guys. I’m going to head there now. Thanks for calling. I’m so sorry that this had to happen during your honeymoon.”

“Don’t you worry about that, Texas. Your father and I just want what’s best for the two of you. And we have plenty of honeymoon still to come. We’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll be there by ten,” she tells me. “So plenty of time to see those kids before the ceremony starts at noon.”

“All right. Give Frank a hug for me.”

“I will.”

We end the call and I turn to Jamie. “I need to go.”

“I gathered. But why? What is going on?”

“Evelyn got another text. They’re going to publish in some news rag tomorrow that Damien has a child running around out there. Other than the ones we have together, obviously.”

“Oh, no. Nicholas, I’m so sorry.”

I shake my head. “At this point, I think I’m numb. It feels like just one more thing. But it’s not going to sit well with Damien. I want him to hear it from me.”

“Okay. No problem. I totally get it.”

We’d come in one of the Stark limos, but I don’t want to take the time for it to come back, so I’m on my phone looking for an Uber when a text comes in from a number I don’t recognize.

Baby, it’s me. I broke my damn phone—this is one of those burners Ryan always keeps around. Did you get a text about me? Something that’s going to be published tomorrow? I need to see you. We need to talk about this.

I’m going to head your direction. Meet me here. We need to talk. And there are things I need to show you.

The message ends with a link to a map. I start to tap it, but don’t. My hands, I realize, are shaking and my whole body feels cold.

“What?” Jamie says.