Which would happen as soon as she could spare a brain cell to focus on it.

“I signed the paper for my baby’s protection,” she said now, holding back the frustration she felt toward her sister for something that wasn’t at all Angie’s fault. Her sister had expected her to hear the voicemail. And had known that Amelia would be all panicky and struggling to get the number from a fuzzy audio message, so she’d also sent the text.

She’d chosen the Parent Portal specifically because of the private facility’s policy about openness of communication between biological components if the need ever arose. The biggest concern she’d had with an insemination was the black hole where paternal genetic history was concerned. Things that went beyond basic medical testing. Like a tendency toward obesity, or a history of obsessive compulsive disorder. The Parent Portal’s personal database for each donor was much more extensive than a lot of clinics’. Not that she’d been seeking that kind of information, but if there was a problem, she could know that she could have all information to help make the best decisions...

“I never, in a million years, expected the donor to call me,” she said, still standing. She needed to sit. Which was why she didn’t. Giving in to weakness wasn’t permitted in this kind of moment. She looked at the glass-faced shadow boxes lining the walls of her office, holding various fine laces and original versions of many of their designs.

Her gaze landed on the very first purse she’d embellished. She’d been fourteen. Had wanted a new purse for starting high school. Something cool. To give her confidence as she left Angeline behind in middle school. Duane, their stepfather, had overheard her talking to her mother about it and had gone off on an ugly rant about the purse he’d bought her for Christmas the previous year, how nothing he provided was ever good enough for her. He’d been drunk off his ass at the time, of course.

She’d taken that plain denim bag he’d bought her and, using lace made by his family’s company, made herself a purse everyone loved. Including her stepfather. She’d had girls she didn’t know coming up to her in the school halls, upperclassmen even, asking where she’d gotten her bag. Just like that, a business—now known as Feel Good—had started. Embellishments, a brand, distribution: all of it. They bought plain items in bulk from manufacturers and made them their own.

She’d shown up a drunk angry man and started a minor empire at fourteen. She could handle a guy who left a deposit in a cup.

“I never should have talked to Christine.” Angie’s face got “that” look and Amelia cringed inside. She’d promised herself she’d never, ever be the cause of that expression again. The one where Angeline feared she’d somehow compromised their relationship.

Angeline hadn’t been the one to do that. Amelia had. And it was up to her to spend the rest of her life, if that was what it took, rebuilding her little sister’s trust in “them.”

“Of course you should have,” she said, stronger now as she tended to her sister instead of to herself. “I want you completely involved in this, just like we said, and what if the call had been to tell us that there was something with the baby that needed immediate attention? A mistake on some test or something? You did the right thing, Angie. I’m just...”

“Scared?”

Yeah. “Why do you think he’s calling?”

“I have no idea.” Angie sat on the couch along the back wall of the smallish room, patting the seat beside her as she reached over to a small refrigerator and pulled out an organic fruit juice mixture. “But what I do know,” she continued once Amelia took a couple of sips, “is that he has no legal rights to that baby. He or she is yours and everything you signed absolutely guarantees that.”

With a head tilt to the side, Amelia studied her sister. “You sound sure about that.”

“I already called Tanya and confirmed. The second I got off the phone with Christine.”

Tanya Cypress was their attorney for matters both personal and business. Amelia had only been in the air a couple of hours when Christine Elliott, managing director of the clinic, had called her. While she’d been unreachable, Amelia had her calls forwarded to Angeline. Angeline had called Christine, and then left a voicemail for Amelia. If Angeline had bothered to listen to her own message, she’d have known it was garbled. She hadn’t. She’d already beaten herself up over that one, apologizing several times, and Amelia hated that her sister was still so insecure where she was concerned.

Hated herself for it. Growing up with a stepfather who was mean when he drank, and a mother who placated him because she loved him and couldn’t bring herself to leave him, a mother who’d believed his promises that he’d stop drinking, had taken a toll on both girls. It had made them closer than many siblings, to be sure. More dependent on each other.

Which was why when, for a short time, Amelia had fallen under the control of a man she’d loved and ditched her sister at his behest, Angeline had suffered so deeply.

Her sister loved her. But Angie no longer completely trusted Amelia to have her back. Not completely.

And so she was always trying to prove to Amelia that she was good enough to deserve her loyalty. When it clearly should have been the other way around. Angie didn’t need to try harder. To go above and beyond.

Amelia did.

“You have to call him, Mel.”

She nodded, a surge of panic striking again as the moment bore down on her.

The father of your child.

“It’s just odd that he introduced himself as ‘father’ rather than ‘sperm donor.’”

“Just remember, he has no rights to that child. None. It’s up to you to stay strong and establish that,” Angie said, glancing toward Amelia’s belly.

Stay strong, rather than giving in to the male influence.

She nodded again. And pulled her phone out of her pocket.

Chapter Two

Craig was riding his bike along a cliff face just outside of town that afternoon when his smart watch vibrated a call at his wrist. One glance showed him who was calling. Feet on the ground instantly, he balanced the bike between his legs and grabbed his phone out of the zipped pocket of his shorts.

Tags: Tara Taylor Quinn Parent Portal Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net