A Pregnancy Scandal

“Okay,” she said, her voice low. “We can talk. But you’ll have to rethink the idea of marriage. I’m not a member of the cult of love and romance.”

She wasn’t? He stared at her as his argument for marriage shifted gears and fell into place.

Four

The results of the paternity test didn’t take long. With Phillip’s connections, he had paperwork in his hand before lunch proving the baby Alex carried was 100 percent his.

Like she’d told him. It stung a little to hear him question her, as if Alex might have tried to pass off another man’s baby as his. Who did something like that?

Okay, it stung a lot. But she tried not to fume about it as Phillip’s driver navigated the enormous limousine through Washington, DC, traffic. Her baby’s father sat next to her on the long bench seat, still clutching the results from the private physician’s office they’d visited to perform the test.

“Are you hungry?” Phillip asked, his tone polite but distant, as it had been since the moment she’d uttered the word pregnant.

She secretly called it his Senator Mask, and she’d noted he pulled it on when the circumstances dictated he be tolerant and friendly without inviting too much familiarity. He’d put on the mask in meetings and at the party a couple of times but always toward others. She’d never thought he’d direct it at her.

“I don’t think I could eat, no,” she murmured. Her stomach wasn’t in any condition to accept food and not just because of the morning sickness that should be renamed 24/7 sickness. “But if you want to find a quiet restaurant where we can talk, you’re welcome to eat. I wouldn’t mind a cup of hot tea.”

It was time to make some decisions. Unfortunately, she feared neither of them liked the choices all that well. And she had a feeling the subject of marriage was about to come up again.

Alex and Phillip were not getting married under any circumstances. Marriage was for other people, foolish people who believed love could last forever. Who believed in happily-ever-after. There was nothing he could say to convince her. Besides, marriage didn’t make any sense.

“Maybe we should drive around. This car is about as private as it gets.” Flashing her a distracted smile, Phillip hit the intercom to speak to the driver. “Randy, would you mind stopping at the next Starbucks and purchasing Ms. Meer a cup of hot tea?”

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