Mike chuckled. “With my wife, Beth, at the helm, it’s more like a supersonic jet. Said it brightened her whole day.”
“Glad to hear it,” I said, trying to subtly shift my weight to a more comfortable position. “But what’s the real reason for the summons?”
I liked Mike; he was a good guy, but not my idea of lunchtime chat.
“Emily Holmes,” he said, his tone shifting.
My laughter died.
The smirk vanished.
My perfectly sculpted cheekbones felt decidedly less perfect.
“My ex-fiancée,” I growled, a low rumble in my chest.
“Good terms?” he asked, his eyes narrowed in observation.
“Not exactly. Let’s just say I caught her bent over my desk with my business partner. Sold my practice, moved here, haven’t seen her in a year. Why?”
“She was here ten minutes ago, looking for you. With a baby.”
My jaw dropped. “A what?!”
Mike’s eyebrow arched. “A baby. Said it’s yours.”
I closed my eyes, picturing a tiny version of me, inheriting my killer good looks and, unfortunately, my terrible sense of humor. “You have got to be kidding me!”
“She’s already been to the hospital,” Mike added casually, as if this was a daily occurrence.
“Did my granny see her?”
Granny, my slightly eccentric, but fiercely protective grandmother, who ran the hospital like a four-star general, had eyes that could spot a fib from a mile away.
Mike shrugged.
And then all decorum vanished.
I bolted from the office, a blur of frantic movement. My carefully constructed composure? Gone with the wind. I was a rocket propelled by pure, unadulterated terror and a sudden, overwhelming urge to acquire a large quantity of ice cream.
My life, it seemed, had just taken a very unexpected turn into a sitcom I didn’t audition for. And now, I had to face the music, or rather, Granny.
Too bad I didn’t make it past the front door before I ran smack dab into my brother Frank.
Frank, my brother, and the bane of my existence, stood before me, a smirk plastered across his face. “Well, well, well. Out for diapers?”
I narrowed my eyes, my temper flaring.
“Shut up, Frankie. It’s not my kid.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying, bro. You might want to stock up. Diapers are expensive.”
I gritted my teeth, fighting the urge to strangle him. “It’s not my kid! Now move, I need to talk to Granny.”
He stepped aside, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Good luck with that. And with Josephine when she finds out. You’re gonna need it.”
I brushed past him. My mind raced as I strode toward the hospital, my heart pounding with dread.
What would Granny say?
