“She looks just like you,” Sara adds.
I look at her with a frown. “What? She does not.”
Sara laughs lightly and reaches up to trace the frown line between Evelyn’s eyebrows. “She has your frown.”
Andrea laughs as well. “And your eyes.”
“Shut up,” I mutter.
Evelyn looks over at me then. For the first time.
We make eye contact and all of a sudden, the little girl smiles brightly.
My eyes widen. The grumpy baby is smiling at me?
“Oh my God,” Andrea says. “She literally hasn’t done anything but frown since they walked in here.”
“Who walked in here with her?” I ask, still watching Evelyn.
“She was twenty-something. Pretty. Blonde. She didn’t give us her name.” Andrea holds her hand up as if to stop me before I can say a word. “She said she was Evelyn’s aunt. She said that you had a one-night stand with her sister and you probably won’t remember her.” Andrea looks at the piece of paper in my hand. “Now read the damn letter.”
Fuck. A baby. There is a baby in my office that everyone thinks belongs to me.
I do the only thing I can. I open the damn letter.
Grayson,
Hi. It’s Lacey. We spent a very fun night together in New York City last April. We met at a cocktail party at the art museum. I was wearing a short red skirt you really liked.
Yes, we used protection. No, I didn’t mean to get pregnant. Yes, I remember us talking about not seeing each other again or getting in contact. No, I don’t want your money.
Evelyn was a huge surprise to me, too. And she’s kind of messed everything up, to be honest. I mean, I love her. A lot. She’s actually great. And it’s not her fault. I really tried to make it work. But I’m broke. I can’t do the single mom thing. I wish I could.
The best thing I can do for her is give her to her dad. You’re rich, successful, and have your shit together. You’re going to be a lot better for her than I ever could be.
You’re named on her birth certificate. You have a bunch of lawyers, so you should have no trouble with the legal stuff.
Please take care of our baby girl.
Maybe someday tell her that she was named after my grandmother, that I love the Beatles and peach pie, and I hope someday she gets to see Zion National Park. I took a trip there when I was eight and still think about it.
And tell her I love her.
Lacey
I take a deep breath and blow it out. I remember the red skirt. I even remember the girl. Lacey was beautiful and fun, and we laughed. And had great sex.
We did have a really good time that night.
We also both stuck by our promise not to contact each other afterward.
I guess until now.
I look up at the baby.
Evelyn.
This is hardly proof that she’s mine, of course. The fact that her birth certificate lists me is also not proof.
