Working for Her Dad's Best Friend (Her Dad's Best Friend 1)

“I only know first names. Even if I wanted to find the other men, it’d be like finding a needle in a haystack.”

The other women are talking in low voices. It looks like they’re about to come over to our table and confront me for making her cry.

“How about this? If I’m not the father, I’ll hire a private investigator to track those men down. You need child support from somebody.”

She’s no longer crying. “You’d do that?” The other women, who had already gotten to their feet, sit right back down now.

“I’ll pay for the best private investigator money can buy. It’s the least I can do.” Yeah, she’s mooched off of Jack for twelve years, but Marcia still needs to take care of her kid. “So dry those tears. You’re going to be okay.”

“You’re a good man, Link.”

“Don’t tell anybody,” I say, winking. “You’d ruin my reputation.”

The conversation is easy and light then. We talk about her yoga practice, Ryan’s epilepsy, and her hunt for a new home until my phone rings.

Results

Lincoln

I see the name on the front of my cell. It’s Dr. Mike.

I accept the call. “Hey.”

“We have the results. Could you come back in?”

“We’ll be right there.” I end the call. “They have the results.”

“It’s been two hours?” Marcia’s blinking like someone who’s seeing sunlight for the first time in days. “That was fast.”

I shrug. “Good company.” I don’t feel anything for Marcia but respect for raising her kid solo, but I can still be polite.

“Ryan,” she says, her voice suddenly cracking like a whip. “Turn that thing off and walk across the street with us. And don’t get run over.”

He casually flips her the bird, but he does pause the game and put it in his pocket.

“I hope that this doesn’t take long. I’ve almost beat the boss. Just a few more minutes to finish this level.”

We walk back across the street. Marcia’s shoulders have slumped. I think she knows what we’re going to find out. Ryan i

s finally looking at something other than his game, but the tension in his shoulders says that he’s not happy about putting it away.

We go into the lobby. Dr. Mike is leaning against a wall. “Let’s duck into the same consultation room.”

We go back into the same room where we were swabbed.

“What are the results?”

He takes a deep breath and looks at the three of us. “You’re not the father.”

I feel like a weight has been lifted. I had a monkey sitting between my shoulder blades that just evaporates.

“You’ll keep your promise?” Marcia asks.

“Of course.” I’ll hunt down the poor bastard who has to pay child support.

“That’s everything we need to know, Dr. Mike.”

“Here are the results, in case you want to look back at them later on.”