Dr. Stud

“Perhaps another time? Perhaps you could ask Royce?”

“No. I’m asking you. I know you’ll tell me everything you can, Spencer.”

Sophia finishes her bottle and slumps, instantly dropping off to sleep. She doesn’t just fade into sleep, she plunges into it, as though off a cliff.

Bunny slides from her chair and reaches for the baby, gathering her up and putting her back in her stroller, which doubles as a bassinet.

“Um. Well. We found Nina in Chicago. She was there acting on a soap opera. A lot of celebrities come to the hotel, as you know,” I begin. “After Brock and Trey had a few… unsavory relationships… Royce got the idea that our dynasty was at risk. He could just see Brock or Trey with a few out-of-wedlock children, creating hard feelings everywhere they went. Which I don’t mean to be judgmental about in any way. You know what I mean?”

“I understand what you mean,” Bunny assures me, nodding sagely. “People be cray.”

“Cray. Exactly. So Royce floated the idea of us finding someone who could satisfy all of us, to protect all of us and more importantly, to protect our child. Or our children. It seemed like a great idea. Well… it seemed like a tolerable idea.”

“Tolerable. Yes.”

I cringe slightly. “I don’t mean that as an insult. Not that you personally are being tolerated… I mean, ideally we want to adore you. We do adore you, Bunny. Actually… There’s something about you that makes you—”

“Can we just talk about Nina? And then maybe get back to how fabulous I am?”

“Certainly. Ahem. So, where was I… right. Nina caught our eye. Royce was completely up front with her. She was perfectly amenable. Enthusiastic, even. And she was particularly intrigued by our lifestyle, by the celebrity that it brought her, by the travel.

“So we began with the idea that there might be an heir, at some point, but she was pregnant within a very short period of time. She lost her job with the soap opera and often complained that pregnancy interfered with her ability to find a replacement. That was the real issue, I think. She enjoyed our company, and she enjoyed our lifestyle, but she did not appreciate that it would… take over.”

“So she lost her dream,” Bunny adds.

“I suppose that’s basically it. It became a battle between her acting career and the family that we thought we had already agreed to.”

“I guess if that’s her priority… she was probably very sad.”

I shrug. I want to dredge up a respectable amount of sympathy for her, but I still feel betrayed. It’s hard for me to say it out loud, but I still feel like she abandoned us before she tried.

Bunny reads my features and reaches out to touch my hand. She slips her warm, nimble fingers between mine and squeezes. A feeling of relief rushes through me.

“Well, in our disappointment, we were probably too insistent. I mean, it was all settled in our minds. And she dropped us… and Sophia… a week after Sophia was born. A week. Without even saying anything, lawyers appeared. Lawyers. Good ones.”

“Plus, she broke your hearts,” Bunny whispers.

Bowing my head, I just look at our intertwined hands. She did break our hearts, but somehow that feeling seems more remote today. Like it’s receding in the rearview mirror, finally.

“She did.”

Tipping her head to the side, Bunny considers the large stack of papers.

“So what’s in here? What’s new?”

Again, I snap into lawyer mode. “The nanny sections are unchanged, as we discussed. The relationship sections outline international travel, support for maternity if that should occur, postnatal support, if needed, and of course a schedule which will have to be ad hoc because —”

“A schedule?” she interrupts.

I flip through the papers to the blank grid.

“This is just a starting point, you understand. We can arrange this how you like, even arrange days off. This way every brother—”

“Not all at once? Like yesterday?”

I check her face to see if she is serious, and she does not seem to be laughing. She blinks those big brown eyes at me as innocently as she can, considering she had five dicks inside her yesterday.

“Certainly, if you want to. Otherwise will we take turns? To be fair?”