Who's Your Daddy? Read Free

client,” she said. “Can I give him a message?”
    I hesitated, but then said, “Yes, please. Would you have him call Carmen? He knows the number.” I considered adding that it was urgent, but that would only make him worry. Might as well save his blood pressure until I dropped the bomb.
    “I’ll give him the message,” Angela said.
    “Thank you,” I whispered.
    We hung up, and I stared at my phone, wondering if it was the anticipation of his call or these damned hormones that made my stomach twist and turn.
    Not that it mattered. I shoved the phone in my pocket and hurried down the hall.

Chapter Two
    Isaac
     
    My client shifted uncomfortably on the pastel sofa.
    “Have you discussed this with your husband?” I folded my hands on top of the file folder in my lap.
    She uncrossed her legs, then recrossed them and watched her fingers idly play with the seam on her skirt. “Not yet.”
    “Marie,” I said gently. “We’ve discussed this the last few times you and David have been here together. He can’t do anything about it if he doesn’t know.”
    “I know.” She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. “I know, and…”
    “Are you concerned he’ll be angry?” I carefully kept my voice gentle and inquisitive so I didn’t come across as interrogative or confrontational.
    “Not really,” she said, almost whispering. “I guess I…” Then she forced out a breath. “He just has so much on his mind. You know, with his job and everything. I don’t want to give him something else to worry about.”
    “I understand,” I said with a slow nod. “But you need to keep in mind, you’re both Aiden’s parents. You shouldn’t have to shoulder that entire burden on your own, and especially if you’re concerned about your son getting involved in any kind of alcohol use or anything like that; you need to be able to share this with your husband. And he needs to know about it. Maybe he can offer a solution or talk to Aiden.”
    Marie chewed her lip.
    “When’s your next appointment with David and me?” I flipped open the folder to see if I’d written it down in here.
    “Tomorrow afternoon,” she said. “Four o’clock.”
    Closing the folder again, I said, “Would you like me to bring it up then? Get the conversation rolling?”
    She exhaled, and her shoulders dropped a little, relaxing. “You don’t mind?”
    I smiled. “Of course not.” I glanced at the clock on the wall. “It looks like our time is up for now, though.”
    “Already?” She pulled back her sleeve and looked at her watch. “I suppose it is.” She rose, as did I, and, as she always did before she left, she hugged me.
    “Thank you, Isaac,” she whispered.
    “You’re welcome,” I said. “This is what I’m here for.”
    She let me go, smiled, then gathered her coat and purse and left. After she’d gone, I checked my schedule. No more appointments for another hour. Good a time as any to go out and grab something to eat.
    On my way out, Angela, my receptionist, stopped me. “Donovan called a little while ago. Also, someone named Carmen asked for you to give her a call.”
    I furrowed my brow. “Carmen?”
    Angela cocked her head. “She said you’d have the number—”
    “What? Oh, yes, I have it. Thanks.” I gestured at the waiting-area door. “I’ll call her on my cell while I’m at lunch. Thanks, Angie.”
    As I walked down the stairs from my third-floor office to the building’s lobby, a knot tightened beneath my rib cage. That was odd. Carmen had my work number, but she didn’t usually call me during the day. And neither Donovan nor I had heard from her much over the last few weeks. I’d tried to chalk up the silence to her ironing everything out after her divorce, but deep down, I had a feeling it had more to do with the last time we saw her.
    Why now? Why in the middle of the day?
    Only one way to find out.
    As soon as I was outside, I pulled out my cell phone and speed-dialed her.
    “Hey, Isaac,”