The sound of Lincoln’s babbling comes through the monitor and a look at the screen tells me he’s awake and playing with his feet. It’s so adorable I can almost feel my heart growing inside my chest as I sit here. That’s not possible though, is it? I’m pretty sure that would qualify as more of a medical emergency than being covered in poop would be.
“Sounds like the big man’s waking up. If you’re afraid of poop, I’d advise you to stay away until I get him cleaned up. He has a penchant for filling his entire sleeper with the stuff when he’s had an excellent nap.”
He leans back in his chair and throws his hands up in a hands off motion. “Noted. I’ll stay out of your way. You got anything to eat in the kitchen? I skipped lunch to call my mother for you.”
“Yeah. Eat whatever you want.”
I leave Eric to his own devices and go to Lincoln’s bedroom. My son’s bedroom in my apartment. God, I love that. I grin to myself as I open the door.
“Hey, Link. How’d you sleep, buddy?” I look over the side of the crib and am greeted with a huge gummy grin. “Oh, yeah? You must feel well rested. Got any surprises for me?” I pick him up and bring him to the change table. I make quick work of changing him, and bring him out to the kitchen to make him a bottle.
“Hey, dude.” Eric takes a break from eating a sandwich to fist bump Lincoln. “I would have made you one, but I figured the lack of teeth would hold you back.”
Lincoln giggles and buries his face in my neck.
“He’s on bottles only right now, but I’m sure he’ll take you up on that sandwich in a couple of years.”
I busy myself making Lincoln’s bottle while Eric finishes up his sandwich. We head to the living so I can sit while I feed Lincoln.
“So, are you going to talk to your dad? Tell him you know the contract is fake?”
“I probably should. That would be the responsible thing to do, but I think I’ll let Miranda take care of it. I don’t want him to think there’s any way he’s getting the company back from me, and if I give him any leeway in this matter, I’m sure he’ll start scheming up a new way to get what he wants. It’s best to let the professionals take care of it.”
“And you don’t think he’ll try to force the Annabelle issue?”
“I don’t see how he can. I know he can’t take the company from me, and that was the only thing that he was holding over my head. He has nothing to scare me with now.”
Eric’s mouth opens to say something, but instead of words, all I hear is the crash of my door banging open.
“You dirty son of a bitch. I can’t believe I admired your adonis lines that day I saw you in your boxers. I feel so dirty.” Gavin storms into the room, followed closely by Charlie, but Phoebe is nowhere in sight.
“Hey, Gav. Hey, Charlie. How was the textile arts festival? Did Phoebe love it? Where is she, anyway?” I stand up and pass Lincoln into Gavin’s waiting arms, looking to the entranceway for Phoebe. “Did she find some inspiration?” I hope she did, because I plan to take her to the craft store to load up on supplies as soon as possible. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with after seeing the other artists at the festival.
At Charlie’s cruel laugh, I snap my head in her direction. “Oh, she found some inspiration all right. Some inspiration to cry herself to sleep, you sadistic son of a bitch.”
My stomach drops. Phoebe is crying? I can’t stand the thought of her crying and not being there for her. My body surges with the need to go comfort her.
“What do you mean? Where is she? I need to see her.”
“You should have thought of that before you lied to her about your little girlfriend. Oh, excuse me. I mean, your littlefiancée.” She spit the last word, like it tasted bitter on her tongue.
“My what?” I splutter, the words still tumbling from my mouth as I look to Gavin for an explanation. “What is she talking about, Gavin?”
He shrugs, taking the empty bottle from Lincoln’s mouth and dropping it onto the couch. “I don’t know for sure, man. I wasn’t there. It sounds to me like they met your fiancée, though.”
Eric’s eyes are wide as he looks between the three of us. Charlie’s mouth is set in a severe line, her grasp on her temper tenuous. Gavin looks calmer, but I’m not sure I’m imagining the heat from the rage bubbling under his skin. They’re both pissed the fuck off.
And here I stand, with my mouth hanging open, confused as shit.Girlfriend?I don’t have a girlfriend, though I was hoping after all that had happened between us, Phoebe would fill that position, and I certainly don’t have a fiancée.
Unless…
I look at Eric as he comes to the same conclusion.
“Annabelle,” I growl through gritted teeth to his answering nod. “Looks like I don’t have the luxury of letting my lawyer deal with my father, after all.”
Chapter 39
Give Santa A Chance
