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As the elevator doors opened, Mitch courteously touched my shoulder, gesturing for me to exit first, and murmured, "It was wonderful catching up, but there's someone waiting for me in the lobby. Mind if I call you later?"
"Of course!" I replied, the warmth of his touch still lingering. "I'd love that."
As I made my way to the parking lot, curiosity gnawed at me, urging me to find out who Mitch was meeting. Could it be another woman? Disquiet seized me as I stole a covert glance back at the lobby. There, a deputy sheriff's piercing gaze focused on Mitch, his expression chillingly stern.
ChapterFour
Mitch
With hands tremblinglike an October wind, I tore into the oversized envelope the deputy handed me. His words tumbled around in my skull, seeking an exit from my predicament. "Son," he drawled, "you've been summoned to a custody hearing in Eagle County, Colorado. Happens at the end of the month."
As the words spilled from his mouth, I inhaled sharply and spat out, "Nicole?"
"Yup. One Nicole Barns, she's the plaintiff."
Chase's cautionary tale about my susceptibility to the fairer sex played on repeat as I made my way home. "Watch yourself. You're a good-looking, wealthy guy... prime target for a gold digger." I'd brushed him off then, cocksure and dismissive, certain I had everything in hand. But when Nicole had severed ties without warning after I told her I wasn't interested in anything long-term, a nagging suspicion she might be pregnant gnawed at me. I didn't have the nerve to ask, though — the truth scared me too much.
Entering my beachside sanctuary, the court order sat heavy in my grip. My stride grew sluggish as I ambled to the fridge and snagged a brew. Shoes kicked off, I lumbered to the couch and collapsed with a weary groan. Glancing at the document once more, reality crept in. "I'm a father? With Nicole, who can be sure," I muttered, disbelieving, as I shook my head. The child, previously a phantom haunting my guilt-ridden conscience, was now a fact of life, and Colorado demanded I take responsibility. What was Nicole playing at?
I drained the remainder of my beer, changed my clothes, and gazed at the sunset and the surf's relentless assault on the shore. Fingers flew through my contacts, found Nicole's number, and dialed. To my astonishment, she answered.
"Hello, Mitch. I wondered how long it would take for you to call," Nicole's voice was ice and miles away.
"What's going on? I got a court summons today. Says I'm the father of our kid, and... you're giving up custody! Why didn't you tell me you were pregnant? I would've helped... if you'd asked."
"Mitch, I tried asking. But after a couple of unanswered voicemails, I figured you were done with me."
"Nicole, you know me better than that..." I protested, backpedaling, unwilling to confess I'd deliberately ignored those messages.
"Exactly the point," she drawled, her voice dripping with smugness. "I know you well enough, and after the whole kidnapping fiasco and that woman turning up at your cabin, I reckoned she must be your latest fling. Honestly, I was too scared to keep hunting for you. So I'm letting the state take care of things."
My breath hitched in disbelief. "How did you find out about the chalet? The media never reported anything."
She scoffed, "God, I thought you had brains to match your fortune. Guess I was wrong! Everyone knows everybody in this backwater burg except you, it seems."
"I see," I spat, the words bitter on my tongue. "So you're telling me we have a three-month-old daughter together?"
"That's right. Ava's her name."
I softened my tone. "Nicole, why are you giving her up?"
"Met someone new. She's someone who actually gives a damn. But neither of us is ready for a kid yet. Maybe someday."
"Ah, I see."
"Yep, always been into both sides of the fence. I'm getting the hell out of this lousy town and away from all you spoiled rich snobs. Anyway, I gotta run."
"Where's Ava? Is she safe?"
"In foster care. And don't you ever call me again!" she snapped before hanging up.
Moments later, an image appeared on my phone: a baby with tufts of dark hair, huge blue eyes, and a pout that unmistakably matched mine. I quickly saved the photo and dialed Daniel, seeking the name of the lawyer he'd used to confirm Harper was his child.
"Daniel, I need your attorney's info... it's urgent," I blurted.
My friend hesitated before replying, "Mitch, is everything okay?"
"I'm not sure," I admitted, sighing. "I'll fill you in later."
