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CHAPTER ONE
WILL YOU have my baby?
No. Susan Kennedy shook her head, her layered shoulder-length hair tickling her neck and cheeks. That wasn’t quite the line she wanted.
Can I have your baby?
Nope. She dusted the buttons on the telephone with one long slim finger. Misleading. Her ability to have a baby wasn’t in question.
So how about May I have your baby?
She toyed with that one, actually dialed Chicago’s area code before disconnecting this time. Her goal wasn’t to ask his permission but to request his participation in the most monumental event of her life. At the same time she had to make it clear—abundantly, in-your-face clear—that she was asking nothing from him.
Other than the initial ten-minute participation. Grinning, Susan amended that last thought. There was no way any physical shenanigans between her and Michael would take less than an hour. They did sex very well.
Which probably meant she was asking for more like two hours of his time. Michael always claimed Susan had a way of making everything seem easier than it really was. Shorter than it was. Less expensive than it was. When she’d budgeted one thousand dollars for their trip to the Poconos, he’d counted on two.
Damn thing was, she’d somehow managed to run through every dime of the two-thousand dollars, just as he’d predicted. And Michael, being Michael, had never said a word.
Stupid, smug man.
Stupid enough to father her child? In spite of the fact that they’d been divorced almost as long as they’d been married?
He had to. Period. No other option was acceptable.
So how did she convince him of that?
How about Would you lend me a sperm? That didn’t sound like too much to ask. And “lend” seemed so harmless, so...not-permanent.
But she wasn’t planning on giving it back.
All the more reason to call him today. Because “lend” wasn’t what she wanted at all. She wanted him to give it to her, willingly and for keeps, and as Michael always gave her wonderful gifts for her birthday...
January 21. Her birthday. She glanced at the office around her, the plaques on her walls, the windows overlooking the icy Ohio River, Cincinnati, Ohio and Louisville, Kentucky all at once. Sinking into the soft leather of the high-backed maroon chair, she sighed and hung up the phone. Gloomy suddenly, she reached down to pet the red setter snoring on the floor at her feet. She couldn’t believe she was actually thirty-nine years old. For a person who’d always loved birthdays, she was doing a damn good imitation of hating this one.
Someone dropped a coffee cup in the hall. Hearing it break, Susan hoped it had been empty. Annie, the setter who made her way to Susan’s office every morning, didn’t even budge at the noise. The dog was getting old, too, nearly thirteen. Susan’s soul mate.
She didn’t kid herself, though. In spite of the fact that Susan had known Annie since puppyhood, the dog didn’t come to her every morning out of some incredible bonding experience they’d shared. No, Annie just preferred Susan’s soft carpet to the cold but beautiful ceramic tile that covered the other floors of Halliday’s. It was one of the largest, privately owned sporting goods supply companies in the world.
Susan jumped as the phone rang, echoing in her bright, luxurious, tomblike office.
“Hello?” She grabbed it after the first ring, eager for distraction, praying it wasn’t Michael calling to wish her a happy birthday. She wasn’t ready to speak with her ex-husband. Not yet.
“Hey, old woman, how about lunch?”
“Seth?” Holding the phone away from her ear, Susan grinned. “You in town?”
“Haven’t missed a birthday yet, have I?”
“Well...” Susan used her best corporate attorney’s voice to disguise how thrilled she was that he’d made it back. “I seem to recall there were those first two...”
Seth snorted. “Before I was born doesn’t count.”
