A Stroke Of Magic Part 16

"What is it?"

"I really think you should sit down." Letting go of her necklace, her hands went to her desk, palms flat on its surface.

"I'm not going to keel over. What's the message?" I asked again.

"Look. This is awkward for me. If I weren't Terri's friend, I wouldn't be doing this." She shuddered. "I hate that I'm doing this. I hate that I'm even involved. But here we are, so I'm just going to say it, even though it's not very nice."

I backed up against the wall for support. "That's fine. Go for it." I could handle it if it came at me fast. At least, I thought I could. Sort of like ripping off a Band-Aid. The faster you did it, the quicker the pain left.

"I'd feel better if you'd sit down." When I didn't move or respond, she sighed. "Okay, then. Here goes." She whisked a strand of toffee-hued hair off of her forehead. I braced myself. "Troy has no desire to be involved with you or the baby. In any way."

Something strange happened then. I'm not sure how to explain it, but it was as if everything around me, everything inside of me, stopped, and then drained away. I felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. "That's it?"

"No. Troy, the a.s.shole that he is, would like you to sign a legal doc.u.ment that removes his rights as a parent. He doesn't want to pay child support; he doesn't want his name even connected to the baby." Her eyes didn't meet mine as she spoke. "And if you refuse to sign the doc.u.ment, then he's going to insist on DNA testing."

The entire situation seemed unreal. As if I were watching a play or a really bad movie, none of it affected me. I knew I should be feeling something, but weirdly, everything was numb. "DNA testing doesn't bother me, because Troy's the father. That being said, I prefer for him to stay away, so you can tell him I agree to his...demands."

"I know this is a c.r.a.ppy thing. I'm sorry to be the one to deliver the news."

"It's fine." For some reason, I found myself staring at the back of the picture on Missy's desk. The one with her, her husband, Troy, and Terri. Maybe I felt something, after all? Because I definitely wished I could walk over, pick that photo up, and slam it down on the desk. Productive? Not at all. So I tucked the urge away.

"There's more," she said softly.

"More? What more could there be?"

"While Troy isn't interested in knowing the child, his mother is. She would like to set up a meeting."

Finally, I really felt something: stunned disbelief. "Doesn't the very fact that Troy is excising himself from his child's life pretty much wipe out any familial connections?" Besides, I knew nothing about Beatrice Bellamy other than that she'd raised a jerk. Oh, and that she might be a witch. Neither of those things endeared her to me.

"It's completely up to you. I know Beatrice fairly well. She won't push. Or, I don't think she will. But she wanted me to ask." Missy spoke calmly, but it sounded forced. I'm sure she wanted this discussion over with. Which made two of us.

"Why did Troy even tell his mother?"

"I don't think he did. Terri has always been close to Beatrice. It probably came from her."

"Oh." Not that it mattered. Making a decision about Beatrice wasn't going to happen. Not right now.

Missy walked over to me. "I was so angry at you. Now I'm just angry at him."

A choked laugh spilled out, but I didn't speak.

"You're white as a ghost. Do you need to lie down or something?" The concern, so evident in her voice, pushed me forward.

Lifting my chin, I plastered a smile on my face. "I'm okay, Missy. Tell Troy to send his papers here and I'll have an attorney go through them. a.s.suming there are no issues, I'll be happy to sign. As for Beatrice..." Suddenly, I lost steam. "I'll need to think more about her request."

She reached out, as if to touch me, but then stopped. "Okay. I'll let him know."

A tight, uncomfortable haze surrounded me. All at once, the only thing I wanted was to get out of that room. I walked to the door. "My break is about over. I should go."

"I need to say one more thing."

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry. For everything. I don't really know what happened between you and Troy, but I do know what kind of man he is. I should have been nicer to you."

"I appreciate that." Still numb, I twisted the doork.n.o.b, but before I could make my escape, something crashed behind me. Turning around, my gaze landed on Missy's desk. The framed photo was facedown.

Setting it upright and looking surprised, Missy held her other hand up as if testing the air. "There must be a breeze in the room."

"Yeah. Must be."

This particular wish coming true probably should have put me in a better mood, but it didn't. Other than shock, I still felt nothing. Because there was nothing else to say, I marched from Missy's office, keeping my head up and my back straight. Then, rounding the corner out of the hallway, I concentrated on getting to the restroom, where I could lock myself in a stall and let myself feel whatever I was going to feel. Because surely, when the shock wore off, I'd feel something.

You'd think I'd be happy. Wasn't this what I'd wanted?

So focused on moving forward, I didn't see Ethan until a millisecond before colliding with him. The impact sent me staggering backward a few steps, and the file he held flew through the air before dropping to the ground, all of its contents spilling out in a messy fan shape.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled. Kneeling down, I grabbed one loose paper after another, stacking them up in front of me.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he teased in his Irish accent. Balancing himself on the soles of his feet, he helped me gather the pages. He was so close. Too close. The scent of his cologne, which normally had me in a near-drooling state, almost unhinged me. I wanted to turn to him, lean on him, gain comfort from him, and that was utterly stupid. Because as nice of a guy as Ethan was, he didn't need to deal with this mess. h.e.l.l, I had no choice, and I still didn't want to deal with it.

I tipped my face away from him. "Nowhere. I wasn't paying any attention. That's all." My voice shook, and I hated that it did. I finished picking up the last few pages strewn around. Grabbing the entire stack, I slid it into the file and then handed it to him. "Here. They're all out of order now. I'm sorry," I repeated.

"It's okay." He stood and then helped me to my feet. I averted my gaze.

A shudder rippled through me. The numbness had begun to wear off, and I wanted it to come back. "I'll talk to you later," I mumbled, and went to walk around him.

"Alice?"

Funneling every bit of strength I had, I smiled as brightly as I could and faced him. "Yes, Ethan?"

He looked down at me, his smoky eyes searing. Once again, it was as if he could see everything about me, everything inside of me. I blinked to break the moment, but as soon as I did, a tear dripped down my cheek. And then another. h.e.l.l. I hadn't even realized I was that close to crying. I swiped them away. "Not here," I managed to say.

That was all he needed to hear. With one hand on my elbow, he guided me forward. I let him, because as much as I'd wanted privacy before, now I craved his presence.

We maneuvered toward his office in quick, short steps. Luckily, Grandma Verda wasn't at her desk. I didn't know if she'd already gone home, or if she was off somewhere else, but it didn't really matter. What mattered was that she wouldn't see me in this condition. Not only would it break her heart, but she'd likely go find Troy and break his legs. Seriously, she could do it too. Of that I had no doubt.

Ethan closed his office door and then led me to his couch. "Sit down," he ordered. Good timing, because at that minute my legs trembled, and I didn't think I would have been able to stand much longer, anyway. I sort of collapsed on the couch. He joined me and angled his body toward me but kept silent.

A weight sat on my chest, heavy and unrelenting. All of a sudden, anger whipped in, followed by a blast of pain so strong that I gasped. Not physical pain. Emotional pain. And it p.i.s.sed me off even more. Because how could Troy hurt me? When had I given him that power?

"Do you want to talk?" Ethan's deep baritone sifted through the haze, offering me support, comfort.

I shook my head. I didn't cry, and that surprised me. Not only because I'd just about burst into tears a mere few minutes earlier, but because now that the shock had worn off, the hurt inside of me was so huge, you'd have thought the tears would come pouring out. But they didn't. So I sat there while all these emotions tore into me.

My chest tightened even more. I forced myself to breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Slowly, too slowly, the sharpest edge of the pain-of the anger-began to subside. And the entire time I went through this, Ethan watched, remaining calm, waiting to be or do whatever I needed.

That knowledge also surprised me. But it was there. I saw it in his eyes, in the way he looked at me, by the way he held himself. It reminded me of Grant and the way he was with Shelby, and the power of that nearly took my breath away. I mean, I knew it wasn't the same. Not exactly, anyway, but it was the closest I'd ever gotten. And even in the fallout of Troy's latest betrayal, I recognized it as important.

With that realization, I was finally able to talk. "Missy delivered a message from Troy." My voice shook. "It hit me in a way I didn't expect."

Ethan reached over, stroked the line of my jaw with one finger. "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware Missy and Troy knew each other."

Oh, yeah. I never had gotten around to sharing that connection with him. "She's a friend of Troy's wife. That's where all the pent-up friction came from." In halting speech, I told him the rest. When I finally finished, I sighed and waited for his response.

White-hot anger blazed over his expression. "He's a spineless coward. People who don't take responsibility for their children deserve..." His eyes snapped shut. When he opened them again, the fury was either gone or well hidden; I wasn't sure which. "Troy should have had the decency to talk to you himself, rather than sending a message through his wife's girlfriend."

"I'm actually okay he didn't. I don't want him involved, anyway. That's why my feelings confused me so much. The anger makes sense. I'm not sure why it hurts."

Lifting my chin, he stared into my eyes. "It's not about you. It's about your child."

That was when it hit. I'd already hardened myself to Troy's betrayals. Old stuff, in the past, done and over with. But this betrayal wasn't really about me. It was about my daughter, and she'd done nothing wrong. So it made sense. The pain I experienced was the pain of a mother. "My first lesson in motherhood. I wonder if the rest will hurt this much," I whispered, mostly to myself.

Ethan pulled me into his arms. My cheek rested on his chest. His arms tightened around me, and the rest of my tension evaporated. Being held by Ethan? It felt right. It felt real. And that made absolutely no sense. "Some will. Some won't. I wish I could give you more advice, but what do I know? I haven't faced the joys of parenthood yet."

He kissed the top of my head, and we disengaged from each other. "Thank you for listening. It seems you're always seeing me at my worst."

"You do seem to have the most curious group of people you surround yourself with. But it adds to your charm." Then, as if getting back to business, the take-charge Ethan appeared. "I'd like to help you when you get the papers from Troy. I'll have my attorney go through them for you, if you'd like."

"That would be great." I watched him curiously. I could almost see him checking off a list in his head.

"He should, at the very least, be financially responsible. Are you sure you want to give up your right to monetary support?"

"I am. I really don't want any connection to Troy." Beatrice flickered into my mind, and I groaned. "His mother wants to meet me, though. She'd like to be a part of the child's life. I don't know what to do about that."

"Is she going to go for legal visitation?"

"Oh. I don't know. Can she?"

"If she wants to try, she can. It doesn't mean a judge will give it to her." I must have looked panicked, because he squeezed my hand. "Don't stress over it. You might want to consider meeting her, even if just to rule out that possibility."

Ugh. "Yeah. I guess. But the thought of meeting the woman who raised Troy doesn't exactly fill me with happy feelings."

"She might be a perfectly nice person who happened to end up with a not-so-nice son. It happens, Alice."

Another point I couldn't argue. "I'll have Missy set up a meeting."

"If you want company, I'd be pleased to go with you."

"Yeah. I might. I'll let you know."

"Good." He must have decided business was taken care of, for now, because the other Ethan returned. His voice softened. "You scared me, when I first saw you out there. You were so white, and your eyes were filled with so much pain." He paused. "You look more like your normal, beautiful self now."

And then, out of nowhere, that thing pa.s.sed between us. "I really like you," I blurted.

"I really like you too. I wasn't lying when I said I find you in my thoughts constantly."

"No. I mean I really, really like you. And it startles me." Why had I said that? I so needed to learn to keep most of my thoughts to myself.

Desire, strong and deep, darkened his eyes. But he didn't reach for me. "There's nothing wrong with being startled. It reminds us we're alive. It makes us think. We have plenty of time to get to know each other. Plenty of time to see where this goes. There's no rush."

"Right." But did we? Maybe. Maybe not. D-Day was approaching faster than I'd antic.i.p.ated, and I definitely heard the clock ticking away.

"Hey. What's with those worry lines?" He rubbed at the skin around my eyes with his thumb. His touch sent a zillion little trembles zipping over me.

How to say what I couldn't explain? "Lots of things are changing for me soon. I'll understand if it's too crazy for you."

"If you take it one day at a time, then changes come really slowly. Let's just see where this takes us. I'm not going anywhere."

I thought about what he'd said, and I nodded. "Fair enough."

"I had a thought. Are you busy on Sat.u.r.day?"

He'd changed the subject so fast, I didn't get-at first-what he was leading to. "Nope. No chaos is planned for this weekend. For once."

When he grinned, my heart tumbled. It was just that simple. "Are you still up for that date? I'd like to spend the day with you. I'm fairly certain I can guarantee a chaos-free day. I might even get a laugh or two out of you."

And I did, more than anything, want to spend Sat.u.r.day with him, so I said, "Yes." Suddenly, everything brightened, and my good mood fully returned.

Just like magic.

Chapter Eleven.

The next three days pa.s.sed excruciatingly slowly. Not only because I couldn't wait for my date with Ethan, but also because I missed Chloe. And that situation didn't appear to be changing anytime soon. Here it was Thursday afternoon, and I still hadn't connected with Kyle. But it wasn't like I hadn't tried, because I had. After getting his number from Shelby, I'd called three times and left three different messages. He just hadn't returned them.

I'd try again tonight. But geez, you'd think if he were my ever after, he'd have shown a little bit of interest by now. And that raised my hopes for Ethan. Because there was a man who'd definitely shown some interest.

On arriving home after work, my entire plan for the evening was to eat dinner, try to contact Kyle, and then maybe talk Chloe into coming over. I wanted to see how she was doing. I also wanted to tell her about Troy and the upcoming meeting with Beatrice. Of course, this plan went down the drain the second I unlocked my front door, because what greeted my eyes wasn't merely the unexpected; it was the craziest of the crazy. Five men-complete strangers, by the way-sat at my dining room table. Each of them seemed to be filling out some type of paperwork. Not only that, but they were all shirtless. Seriously.

I might not have known what was going on, but I certainly knew who was behind it. My eyes narrowed. Speaking to the entire room, I asked, "Where is she?"

One of the guys-the very blond, artificially tanned one-looked up from his form. "Are you the artist?"

"Where is she?" I asked again. Weirdly, I wasn't even angry. Just a little perturbed. When no one answered, I raised my voice. "Grandma Verda? Where are you?"

The response came from my bedroom. "In here! Come see, Alice!"

Lordy. Why wasn't I surprised to come home and find half-naked men in my home, with my elderly grandmother shouting at me to get to my bedroom? Well, actually, that was sort of a question that answered itself. After all, we were talking about my grandmother.

Before I went to see what she was doing in my bedroom, I stopped next to the man who'd just spoken. "What is this about?"