The Anchor (14 page)

I’m going to be a father.

“Turn the fucking car around,” I say, as calmly as I can muster, as I fold the letter and shove it in my pocket.

“What?” John asks.

“Turn the fucking car around and take me to Nikki’s,” I demand, louder this time.

“Dude, you’ll miss your flight.”

“Parker—”

“Turn around,” I interrupt Edie before turning to face her. “Did you know about this?” I ask, anger and shock evident in my hard tone.

Edie lets out a long breath. “Of course I did,” she admits. “I was there when she found out.”

“What are we talking about?” John asks.

“You didn’t know?” I throw my head back and laugh like a crazy person. This is all so surreal. I’m going to be a father. What the fuck, man?

“Nikki is pregnant, Suit,” Edie says.

John’s brows rise to his hairline as he whips his head in my direction. “Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck,” I agree, running a hand through my hair.

“Parker . . .” Edie begins. “This isn’t easy for her. Nikki’s family isn’t the best and this pregnancy hinders her ambitions. Just . . . when you see her . . . please keep that in mind.” Right. Because this only affects her.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” I ask no one in particular; I’m really asking myself. I’ve been chasing this girl for months, one who won’t give me the time of day and now she tells me she’s pregnant in a letter. Really?

“She doesn’t expect anything from you,” Edie snaps and John’s eyes narrow. Clearly my reaction is not what she hoped it would be. “You don’t have to do anything,” she adds.

“Edie,” John begins.

“He’s freaking out,” Edie points out. “He doesn’t have to storm over to her place. She has absolutely no expectations of you, Parker.”

“And how the fuck should that make me feel? Does she think I’m some kind of fucking deadbeat lowlife that wouldn’t want to be a part of my kid’s life?”

“No,” Edie’s voice rises. “She understands that this wasn’t a part of your plan.”

“Edie,” John begins again.

“Of course, it wasn’t!” I shout. Why the fuck am I shouting? This news hit me like a freight train and before I’ve even had a chance to digest it, Edie is up my ass.

“Well, if you’d found out and never spoke to her again it wouldn’t be a shock,” Edie yells back, her voice cracking with emotion. Seriously. She needs to get a grip. I’m sort of having a moment of panic here. “You wouldn’t be the first deadbeat dick-dad she’s come across!”

Suddenly the car swerves and comes to a screeching halt. “Get out. Both of you. Now,” John orders.

Edie and I glance at one another and John shouts, “Now!”

We both climb out and meet him on the driver’s side of the car. Edie’s arms are crossed over her chest as she leans against the car. I shove my hands in my pockets, fisting the letter in my right hand.

“Edie,” John begins calmly. “Baby, you are jumping to conclusions. Parker
literally
just found out less than five minutes ago that he’s going to be a father. And in a car on the way to the airport, no less.”

“I know, but—”

“You have to give him time to digest. If he’s appears freaked out, I think he’s entitled.”

Edie purses her lips and moves her gaze to the ground. After a beat she drops her arms. “You’re right.” Then she looks at me, with tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Parker. I’m a jerk.”

“It’s okay,” I say, and nod. She genuinely looks sorry, too. Edie James is someone you can’t stay mad at. She’s just too . . . nice.

“I’m just worried about her.” Her voice trembles with palpable emotion again. “I feel very . . . protective of her,” she explains.

“I don’t want to hurt her, Edie,” I say, sincerely. “I don’t know if she’s told you, but I’ve been trying to talk to her for the last two months. She keeps blowing me off.”

Edie sighs. “She doesn’t trust men, Parker. She didn’t have a very good example growing up.”

“Aw . . . it warms my heart when you kids play nice,” John jests. “Now hug and make up,” he orders.

Edie flies toward me and wraps me in a strong embrace. When she pulls away, she stares up at me. “Nikki won’t make this easy for you,” she warns.

I snort. “Not surprised by that.”

“I’ll help in any way I can,” she promises.

“Me too,” John adds, giving me a hard pat on the back.

“Just remember . . . her life has taken a drastic turn. She’s trying to cope, just like you. She’s just doing it with the extra side effect of pregnancy hormones.”

I nod once before we all climb back in the car. As we head to Nikki’s, I call the office and leave a message stating I’ve caught the stomach flu and may be out for a few days. My absence won’t go over well, but Nikki and I need to work a few things out. When I hang up, I lean my head back and close my eyes, trying to rein in my feelings. I’m scared shitless, if I’m being honest. Having a child was something I thought wouldn’t happen for a long time. I’m also mad as hell. No wonder she looked off last night. She was scared to tell me. She has no trust in me.

Taking a deep breath, I tell myself, “Man up, Parker.”

Pounding bangs at my front door, making me open my heavy eyes. I’ve only slept for a few hours and I’m exhausted. As soon as I walked in my door, I slipped my dress off, pulled on my fluffy terry cloth robe and fell into bed.

More pounding at the door.

I close my eyes, deciding to let whoever it is leave thinking I’m not home. But the pounding persists and then I hear the lock pop.

“Shit!” I pant as I whip the blankets back and jump out of bed. Someone is breaking in to my house. Running to my kitchen, I grab the large butcher’s knife from the block and fist the handle tightly as I hide behind the counter. When the door opens, I peek over the top and my stomach drops. I’d rather it have been a burglar. Parker is standing in my living room, looking around and Edie’s head is poked in, my spare key she keeps for emergencies in her hand.

“What the fuck, Parker?” I shriek as I stand. He whips around, his eyes wild, startled by me.

“He made me do it!” Edie defends herself when I cut my eyes to her.

“I’ll take it from here, Edie,” Parker growls before his arm flies out and slams the door shut as he strides toward me.

“Call me!” Edie shouts from outside.

I’m still holding the knife when Parker reaches me and grabs my wrist, pulling the knife from my hand and tossing it in the sink. Then he tugs me behind him into the living room.

“Sit,” he orders, pointing to my sofa chair. His eyes are narrowed, his mouth in a hard and flat line. He’s pissed. I guess he read my letter.

“Shouldn’t you be on your way back to New York right now?” I ask.

“Sit the fuck down, Nikki,” he demands.

“No!” I yell. “You can’t just come in my home and start ordering me around.”

“Nikki . . .” he manages through clenched teeth. “Please sit down.”

With a huff, I plop down. Parker moves to the coffee table and sits on the end so that he’s facing me. I want to tell him to get his ass off my coffee table, but I figure now’s not the time.

“I read your letter,” he begins, his gaze fixed on me.

Swallowing hard, I ask, “And?” I have no idea what to say. I wasn’t lying when I said I expected nothing from him.

He swallows. “Is everything . . . healthy? Are you okay?”

The tension in my shoulders releases a little with his thoughtful question. “Yes. We’re both healthy.”

He nods once and plants his elbows on his knees, dropping his head as if deep in thought. Knotting my fingers together in my lap, I fight the urge to fill the silence. When he’s ready, he’ll talk.

After a few moments, he raises his head and takes a deep breath before speaking. “Why’d you run out on me again this morning?”

Shaking my head, I answer, “I was afraid, Parker. And I felt bad that I . . . that we . . . did what we did last night and I hadn’t told you about the . . .” My eyes flick to his as I pause.

“The baby,” he finishes for me.

“Yeah,” I say, before swallowing nervously again. “I’m sorry I told you by letter.”

“So how do we do this?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“This.” He motions a hand between us.

“What? You and me?”

“Yeah, you and me,” he snorts. And my eyes widen.

“I don’t think . . . I mean . . . we can’t. There’s no you and me.”

He stands and runs a hand through his hair before staring down at me with a look that screams,
Bullshit.
“There
is
a you and me.”

“We hooked up twice, Parker. That hardly constitutes a you and me.”

“And the baby . . . that counts for nothing?”

I feel my blood begin to stir. “Of course it counts for something. But not a relationship between us.”

“Yeah, right.” He chuckles with a little disdain. “You fucked me last night
and
two months ago, obviously there’s something that draws you to me. And now, you’re carrying my child and that’s not enough to say we should give this a try?”

My throat begins to close up as nausea sweeps over me. I want to answer him, but I’m too busy trying to swallow back the urge to vomit. I lose. I fly out of my chair and hall ass to my bedroom and fling myself over the toilet in the master bath. This fucking morning sickness is a bitch. I hurl until my ribs ache and even after there’s nothing left, my body still tries to push out more.

“I see you had the crab bisque last night,” he says, in a lame attempt to joke. I whip my arm out and smack his leg.

“Go away,” I beg between heaves.

“Not a chance, babe.”

I can’t look at Parker as he moves around the bathroom, opening cabinets and pulling out things. After a minute or so, he’s holding a cool cloth to the back of my neck with one hand and rubbing my back with the other. Every morning for the last few weeks I’ve sat on this bathroom floor, purging, by myself. And I have to admit, it’s nice to have someone here to help me . . . or at least try to take care of me.

“You done?” Parker asks softly.

Sitting up, I take the washcloth and wipe at my mouth. “Yeah. I think so.”

“You want to clean up while I get you some water?”

“Yeah, but make it a ginger ale, please. There are a few cans in the fridge.”

“Coming right up.” He nods and exits the bathroom.

Standing up, I brush my teeth and head out to meet him in the kitchen.