Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79898 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 320(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” I said. “And thank you again, you know, for understanding.”
Nell nodded – her attention was already back on her computer screen – and I slipped out of her office and made my way down the hall to my desk.
29
Nico – Thursday
I woke up the next morning with a pounding headache. Whoever said that drinking expensive liquor means no hangover was a total fucking liar, I thought as I dragged myself out of bed.
Standing was a bad idea – the blood rushed to my head and I groaned and plopped back down with my face in my hands. I felt like something that had been scraped off the pavement and then reconstituted into a man.
Fuck, I felt even worse than that. I felt sticky – I’d clearly been sweating in my sleep – and as I sat back down on the bed, a gust of my own scent came rushing up to greet me.
Fucking gross, I thought, clenching my jaw and willing myself to get to my feet once again. You really fucking overdid it, Ulrich.
I forced myself to walk into the bathroom, where I turned on the shower as hot as it would go. I left the lights off in a pathetic attempt to stave off my headache, then got beneath the spray of hot water and let it soak me completely before I reached for the soap. A shower would help – it had to help, or at least that’s what I told myself.
It didn’t.
By the time the water had gone cold, I was clean but I felt shaky and nauseous and pathetic. I wanted to climb back into bed, but I knew my splitting headache would prevent me from getting any sleep. No, the thing to do was grab this fucker by the horns and shake it off, like a real man.
I got dressed, went to Starbucks for a double espresso, and then went into the office. The entire time, the conversation I’d had with Clint the night before kept replaying in my mind.
“That’s fucking wild, man,” Clint said, shaking his head.
“I know,” I muttered as I reached for my tumbler of whiskey and knocked back the entire thing in one gulp. “But it’s good news.”
Clint narrowed his eyes at me. “How do you even know the kid is yours?”
“She looks just like my mother did when she was young,” I said.
“You’re just projecting, man,” Clint said. “You want it to be true, so you’re gonna believe it. This is insane – it’s been four years. She could’ve been out fucking every Tom, Dick, and Harry.”
I glared at him. “Hey, you’re the one who’s married with kids,” I said.
“Yeah, and before Stacia got pregnant, I was literally this close to asking her if she’d be open to a paternity test,” Clint said. He swigged back the rest of his drink and I stared at him in disbelief.
“What?” Clint asked.
“That’s fucking cold, man,” I said, shaking my head. “She’s your wife!”
“Yeah, well, you can’t be too sure if you’re thinking about eighteen plus years of child support,” Clint said.
I frowned. I could already see that he wasn’t going to understand the way I felt – the intense love that had come over me the moment I’d first seen Ada, sleeping peacefully in Harper’s bed.
She had to be mine. Harper wouldn’t pull a bait and switch ... not to mention the extreme resemblance to my mother as a young girl.
Maybe Clint was right – at least, partially. I was absolutely certain that Ada was my daughter and I would never dream of asking Harper for a paternity test.
But I also wanted to believe that she was mine. I’d never realized it before now, but I’d actually wanted kids this whole time, just on my own terms and not those of my parents.
This was my life now, and I needed to man up and accept it. Harper and I were going to have to figure out how to be together, how to meld our two lives in one, so that we would be together for the rest of our lives.
And not just for Ada, either.
For me. I didn’t just want this – I needed it.
By the time I got into the office, Janice from HR was waiting outside of my door.
“This is your new assistant, Amber,” she said.
Amber, a young-ish woman with dark skin and flashing eyes, nodded and smiled at me.
“Good morning, Mr. Ulrich,” she said. “Nice to meet you.”
We shook hands – she had a firm grip that I liked -- and Janice cleared her throat.
“Amber recently graduated cum laude from the University of Pennsylvania,” she said.
I raised an eyebrow. “And you want to be an assistant?”
Amber grinned. She was feisty, and I could already tell that she was sharp. I hoped that we’d get along and that she’d prove to be a good assistant.