Page 110 of Charm

There’s another much more important question to be asked, but I can’t form the words. I can’t ask him if he’s going to take her away from me.

I glance down at my hands, willing logic to step into this so I can think clearly.

“I know you’ll want me to take a paternity test, “ he whispers. “We can arrange for that as soon as possible.”

He’s being logical. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s the one who knew that my Olive might be his biological daughter.

“When did you realize?” I ask quietly. “How long have you known that she could be yours?”

He tilts his chin up, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to correct me and say he is Olive’s father, not that hecouldbe.

“When I saw the pendant around her neck the other night.” He taps his shoe on the floor. “The picture she showed me of you and Celia confirmed it.”

“It was a one-night stand,” I point out. “That doesn’t mean…”

“Olive has my eyes,” he says calmly. “She resembles my grandmother.”

“You’re imagining that.”

He nods ever so slightly. “I know this is a shock, Greer. I get that it’s incredibly overwhelming for you.”

That’s an understatement.

The man I thought I was falling in love with is suddenly claiming to be the guy who knocked up my friend during a one-night stand forever ago.

I push to my feet again because I will never find clarity here with him.

I want to talk to Bruce and Martha. I need to speak to a lawyer. I have to hug my daughter.

“I have to go.”

He’s on his feet, too. He reaches for me but stops short of touching me. “Greer, please. We should talk more.”

“I need to talk to other… there are other people I need to talk to right now.”

Nodding, he steps back. “I understand.”

I walk to the table to grab my tote bag. My gaze lingers on the bottle of champagne I brought with me.

I foolishly thought he wanted me here to tell me he was falling in love with me. I would have confessed the same to him before we toasted with champagne and made love.

The excitement I felt about finding a potential new business partner paled in comparison to what I’m feeling for Holden.

Or what I thought I was feeling.

“Can I call you tomorrow?” he asks from behind me. “Would that be okay?”

I glance over my shoulder as I reach the door to his apartment. “Maybe not. I need time.”

“I’ll give you some time,” he says in a gentle tone.

It’s only a promise of a brief reprieve, but I’ll take it.

Martha handsme a mug of tea. I didn’t ask for it, but she made it because she can tell that I’m spiraling.

I was in tears when I got home.

She appeared in the hallway as soon as she heard my first sob. I fell into her arms. I didn’t say a word, but she offered many. All of them were comforting and focused on how she’d do anything to help me. She said we’re a family and she’ll help me through whatever it is.