“He’s going to demand I get an abortion,” Harlow said, finally turning her gaze up at me.
I couldn’t tell her that he wouldn’t. I had no doubt that he’d all but throw her into his limo in an attempt to get her to the best abortion clinic in L.A. I realized he wanted what I wanted, but the difference was that I refused to let him force her to do anything.
“Why don’t you rest? Let Grant hold you and try not to think about it. Just remember, the baby needs you to stay calm. And Grant needs you to be OK,” Blaire told her. “I’m going to get Nate from Bethy. It’ll be his nap time soon, and Bethy won’t be able to get him to sleep.”
Harlow nodded and stepped away from me to hug Blaire. “Thank you for everything. I’m sorry our day got messed up.”
“I’m sorry, too, but we’ll make it up. You worry about taking care of you and the baby right now. Let Grant take care of you.” Blaire’s words were gentle but firm. She seemed to know how to talk to Harlow.
“Thanks,” I told her.
She smiled and patted my arm. “You got this. It’s going to be OK,” she said softly before leaving.
When the door closed behind Blaire, Harlow turned to me and let out a weary sigh. “I think I want a nap, too.”
Good. She needed to rest. “Come on, sweet girl. We’ll get you into bed, and I’ll even let you use me as your pillow.”
A small smile tugged on her sad face. “That’s a deal any girl would have a hard time turning down.”
I slipped my arm around her shoulder. “Yeah, but you’re the only girl I’d offer my chest as a pillow to.”
“Lucky me,” she said in a teasing voice.
“No, lucky me,” I replied.
My ringing phone woke me up hours later. I eased out from under Harlow and silenced it until I could get out of the room. Glancing down, I saw my dad’s name. He was pissed. I hadn’t seen the work problem through today, and he was probably just now hearing how I’d run out of there with no explanation.
“Hello,” I said, preparing to hear him yell at me.
“Is it true?” he asked, and I glanced back down at my phone to make sure I had read the caller’s name correctly. I had. This was my father.
“What are you talking about?” I asked, confused.
“Did you get Kiro Manning’s daughter knocked up? The one with the heart condition?”
Shit. When did my dad start listening to celebrity gossip news?
“Don’t call her knocked up. I’m in love with her. This wasn’t some cheap fling. We were in a committed relationship when this happened.”
He was silent a moment, then let out a groan of frustration. “Son, if the news is right, she has a congenital heart defect. Having a baby isn’t recommended. It could be fatal.”
Did he think we didn’t know that? I wasn’t an idiot. “I know that,” I replied through clenched teeth.
“And Kiro Manning’s daughter? Really? Have you learned nothing from watching that crowd and hanging out with Rush?” My dad was once married to Rush’s mother, Georgianna. I was a little kid when they were married, and it was a short marriage. He wasn’t a fan of anyone connected to them.
“She’s nothing like them. She’s . . . wonderful, Dad. She’s too damn good for me, but she loves me.”
“Her heart—”
“I know about her heart! Dammit, I understand what could happen. I don’t want her to have this baby. I want to save her, but she’s determined. She loves this baby so much already, and she refuses to listen to anyone tell her she can’t bring it into this world. And I love her too much to walk away just to save my heart from being destroyed. I can’t leave her, so if this is what she wants, I will take this chance and ride this ride and pray like hell I don’t lose her.”
Dad didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “I’ve never loved a woman like that. But I’m glad you found it. Just be careful. Call me if you need me. And get your ass back to Sandestin tomorrow and straighten out that order.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied.
“’Bye,” he said, then he was gone. Call ended.
He never said he loved me, and he never got very deep with me. Our relationship was based on business. I often wondered if he’d even call me at all if I didn’t work for him, so I was stunned by our conversation. This was the first time he’d admitted to not loving my mom. I always thought he had. I thought she’d ruined him. She was a beautiful, selfish, ambitious woman who traded up for husbands with more money on a regular basis. Sometimes she settled for sugar daddies to keep her in luxurious surroundings. The last time I had spoken to my mom, she’d been . . . hell, I wasn’t even sure where she lived now. It had been that long.
I set my phone down and headed back to the bedroom. I wondered if my dad would ever ask about Harlow and the baby again.
To my precious baby,
You came into this world with something special that many kids aren’t blessed with: a wonderful father. I know that by the time you read this letter, you will know just how amazing your dad is. To be loved by him is to live. And I lived because he loved me.
You have his love now, too. We may be sharing it together. If we are, then we’re the two luckiest people on earth.
My experience with my own daddy was more complicated. He was just a different kind of daddy. He loved me, which I never doubted, but he’s unique, as I’m sure you already know. Being Kiro Manning’s grandchild would be interesting, I imagine. I hope you won’t be the only one for long. Uncle Mase will have kids one day, and I know you’ll have a close relationship with them.