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play or conversation and he didn’t hover. He just stayed in the background, silently observing. Paige knew it was ridiculous, but she couldn’t help feeling that her every word and her every action were being monitored by the man who claimed to be the little girl’s father.
When it was time for Emma’s lunch, she felt compelled to offer to feed him, too. And he responded with such genuine appreciation, she felt guilty for making the offer so begrudgingly.
They munched on sandwiches while Emma tackled cooked noodles and vegetables with her six teeth.
“She’ll go down for a nap after lunch,” Paige told him, as she cleared their plates away.
Hint, hint.
“I guess that’s my cue to head out,” he said.
“I try to use the time when she’s asleep to catch up on e-mail and other business matters.”
“I thought you were on vacation.”
She shook her head. “I’m actually on a leave of absence right now.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t realize the firm frowned upon an attorney giving closing arguments in a trial with a baby strapped to her chest in a Snugli.” Not so long ago, she would have been horrified by the thought of putting a baby carrier on over one of her favorite Armani jackets, but almost six months with Emma had changed her perspective—and her priorities.
His lips curved. “Did you really?”
“I didn’t have a choice,” she explained. “The day before, when I picked Emma up from Annabelle’s—that’s her sitter—she warned me that one of the other kids she looks after had been throwing up. So I kept an eye on Emma for any signs of lethargy or fever, but she was fine. Unfortunately, though, Annabelle caught the bug and she called at six o’clock the next morning to tell me that she wouldn’t be able to take Emma that day.”
“This is six o’clock the same morning that you’re due in court?”
Paige nodded. “And I didn’t have a backup plan. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And because no one was available to watch Emma while I went to court, I took her with me.”
“What did the judge think of that?”
“Both the judge and opposing counsel were understanding, and Emma slept through the whole process. Which, by the way, ended with my client maintaining custody of her four kids and her degenerate ex-husband’s access being restricted and subject to supervision.”
“So what was the problem?” Zach wondered.
“The problem came when Emma let it be known that she wasn’t quite so happy at the office,” Paige told him. “And it wasn’t as if I intended to move her playpen beside my desk—I just went in to ask Rebecca to reschedule my appointments and to pick up some files so that I could work at home. But Carson Wainwright was meeting with the CEO of one of our biggest clients, who happens to be the doting grandfather of seven grandkids and who couldn’t help but be drawn away from their meeting in the conference room by the sound of Emma’s crying.”
“And that didn’t go over well with Mr. Wainwright,” he guessed.
“Right again,” Paige agreed. “Of course, he didn’t say anything at the time, but while the CEO was busy cooing over the baby, he was shooting daggers at me across the room. And when Emma was back at Annabelle’s the next morning and I returned to my office, I was summoned into a meeting with all three of the senior partners, who suggested that I needed to rethink my priorities if I expected to have a future at Wainwright, Witmer & Wynne.”
“They threatened to fire you?” Zach sounded as stunned as she had been.
“I don’t think it will come to that,” Paige admitted. “Owen Wynne immediately jumped up, urging everyone not to be too hasty, and suggested that I should take some time to think things through.
“So that’s where I am—trying to figure out whether I can successfully juggle my professional obligations and personal responsibilities—or if I want to.”
“You mean you might leave Wainwright, Winter and … Whatever?”
Her lips curved, just a little. “Wainwright, Witmer and Wynne. And I haven’t made any final decisions yet.”
She lifted a sleepy Emma out of her high chair. He stood up.
“Speaking of decisions, you never said when or where we should have the paternity testing done.”
Emma rubbed her face against Paige’s shoulder.
“I’ve used PDA Labs before,” she told him.
At the lift of his brows, she felt her cheeks flush. “I’m an attorney,” she reminded him. “I’ve had to deal with this issue for several of my clients.”
“So how does it work?”
“We find a doctor to conduct the test, then contact the lab to have them courier a kit to the doctor. Then it’s just a swab of the inside of Emma’s cheek and yours and waiting for the results.”
“Do you know any doctors in town?”
“Cameron Turcotte, my cousin Ashley’s husband, is a doctor.”
He nodded. “How soon can we get it done?”
“I’ll call him and the lab this afternoon.”
He must have sensed her reluctance, because he said, “I would think you’d be as anxious as I am to have the matter of Emma’s paternity settled once and for all.”
Anxious didn’t begin to describe what she was feeling. Her emotions were too intense and conflicted to be so simply categorized.
She felt helpless and scared, but she was also determined. Even if Zach was Emma’s father, Paige didn’t intend to quietly slip out of the little girl’s life. No, she would make sure that any decisions made about the future were made not on the basis of DNA but considering what was best for Emma.
“Except that establishing paternity may only be the beginning,” she warned.
Chapter Four
Zach thought about Paige’s words as he drove back to his room at Hadfield House.
She was right, of course. Confirming Emma’s paternity was only a first step, but neither one of them could really move forward with their plans until that first step had been taken.
Of course, at this point, he really didn’t know what his plans would be, how he could fit a child into his life, but he knew that he would find a way. Because, while Paige insisted that a paternity test was needed to prove that he was Emma’s father, he’d agreed solely to appease her. He didn’t need a cheek swab to confirm what he already knew—Olivia’s little girl was his daughter. And he had no intention of walking away from the child or the responsibilities that being a father entailed.
Maybe he and Olivia hadn’t known everything about one another, but she had to have known that. Although they’d only been dating for a few weeks, they’d spent a lot of time together during that period.
When he’d first read her letter, and her claim that he’d fathered a child, his first instinct had been to deny the possibility. He had never been careless about birth control and he certainly hadn’t been with Olivia. But even as he’d recalled that fact to reassure himself, he’d heard the echo of his father’s voice in the back of his mind: the only birth control that is one-hundred-percent effective is abstinence. If you’re going to play, be prepared to pay.
He’d heard that same warning too many times to count during his teenage years and, although he hadn’t always abstained, he’d always been careful.
Obviously not careful enough.
Okay, so finding