“Well, do you like her? Laurel didn’t strike me as a manipulative person; I don’t think she would lie about that.”
The corners of my mouth tug upward. “Of course you don’t. You always think the best of everyone.”
“That’s not true. I didn’t think the best of Jessica. Or Ben. See? Right off the top of my head, two people I definitely did not think the best of. Laurel seemed pretty nice, though. And you did spend several days with her. Carly said she’s not really all about casual hook-ups and you were an exception to that rule, so if you’re not the father, who would be?”
“That’s what I want to find out,” I tell her.
“She can get a paternity test. Probably right now, if you got her pregnant during Easter weekend. You only have to be like 8 weeks along, and it’s a safe test. They just draws a little blood and test it, no big deal. If she says you’re the daddy, I bet you are, though. I think it’s going to be great. Let’s be honest, it’s probably time for you to start making mini Morellis anyway. Our babies can have play dates. It’ll be adorable.”
“I’d rather have play dates with you,” I tell her.
“I’ll have to run it by my nanny,” she quips.
I can’
t help smiling. Mia always puts me in a better mood. “I miss you, little one.”
“Then come visit,” she says easily. “Come for Sunday night dinner.”
“Will you serve me?” I tease.
“No. But you can bring Laurel and I’ll show her the ropes.”
I smile, tipping back my glass and downing what’s left. “Nice redirect. Very smooth.”
Instead of telling me she’s a married woman, which I obviously already know, she lightly admonishes me with, “Hey, you have a baby on the way, mister.”
“I don’t know whether I do or not. I need your husband to get me some information.”
“You don’t have your own info guy?”
I sigh heavily. “I do. But it’s complicated.”
“Everything is,” she says. “Don’t sound so glum. This is good news. Babies are wonderful; you’ll see. I’m going to throw you a baby shower. Oh! Carly can come. Or she might want to throw it herself since they’re sisters. I don’t know, we have a little time to figure it out.”
“All right,” Mateo says, apparently hearing enough and snatching the phone back from her. “It’s the middle of the night, asshole. You couldn’t wait until tomorrow for this?”
Since I’m out, I grab my decanter and dump a little more liquid into my glass. “Why don’t you put Mia back on? I’d rather talk to her.”
“Why don’t you go to bed and call me when the sun is up like a civilized person,” Mateo responds.
“I need dirt on Laurel,” I tell him instead. “I could get it myself, but it would be a lot easier for you. You’re already in Chicago; I’d have to send someone. Could you have Adrian poke around a little bit and get some information for me? I need to know who fucked Laurel from, say, mid-February to now.”
“I’ll get Ethan on it tomorrow.”
“I don’t know who that is.”
“I don’t care,” he replies, ending the call without another word.
I pull back the phone and look at the lit up screen. Bastard. Didn’t even let me say good night to Mia. My mind strays to Chicago, where he’s putting his phone down and curling up with her in his arms. She’s so full of love, she even has enough for his rotten soul. Then my mind drifts across town to Sin’s house. I’ve slept with Laurel a few nights, so I remember the way she curls close and clutches you near, sighing and nuzzling her face against your chest. Laurel is a nuzzler. That’s how she earned the nickname kitten. She is open-hearted and rubs her affection all over you—but apparently only until you’re an asshole, then she shuts that shit off like a faucet.
It’s a bad idea, but I open up a brand new text message and find Cassandra’s name. I take another sip of alcohol and type out a message with one hand.
“What are you doing tonight?”
This is a bad idea. One of the worst I’ve had since… well, since last time I got involved with her. I didn’t know any better then, even though I should have, but I don’t have the same excuse this time.
She sends back, “His name is Rachid.”