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CHAPTER FIVE

Sean

I CAN’T BELIEVE it. Tara’s just like the rest of them. An opportunistic, gold digging, bitch. I can’t believe I fell for it. The whole shy act she had at the club must have been an act. And I fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.

I’m not sure how long I stand staring out at the empty dance floor before I sense someone walking up behind me. Turning, I see it’s just Callum. He must have gotten Tara to sign the NDA. Wonder how much she finally conned him into giving her?

Why does that thought not sit right? It’s not like I care if she fooled me. It’s not like I planned to pursue anything with her, so why does it matter if she turned out to be no better than the rest of the manipulative bitches that try to baby trap me?

“Did she give you any issues before signing?” I don’t have to question if she did, in fact, sign it, Callum wouldn’t have let her walk without doing so.

I wasn’t expecting for Callum to laugh, but he does. Then hands me the signed papers. Her signature is clear as day. As is the drawing of the middle finger next to it. When I raise my eyebrow at it, he laughs again. “So how much did she want?” I hate to ask. Deep in my gut I need to know. I feel it’s important.

Callum hands me the massive stacks of bills. “What?” I can’t take my eyes off the pile.

He pushes the money into my hands. “She didn't take a cent.”

“Why not?” What the fuck game is she playing?

Callum shrugs at first. Then pauses for a moment. “I thinks she’s telling the truth.” He must see the look of shock on my face, because he rushes to continue. “I think she’s really pregnant, and that it’s really yours.”

No.

I refuse to believe it.

There is no way.

Callum pats me on the shoulder. “Doesn't matter now man. She's gone and she signed the papers. She won't be back.”

I give a nod as Callum walks away. I’m not sure why I nod. Was it in agreement with the kid being mine, or agreement that she won’t be back?

I glance back down at the big fuck you she drew and laugh. Genuinely laugh.

Before Callum gets too far away, I have to ask, “Did she say anything else?”

“Yeah, she said to have a nice life. And that she’d take care of your kid.”

Fuck. Maybe she wasn’t lying.

Could she really be pregnant with my kid? I didn’t sense she was a liar when we were together. Not that we did a lot of talking. At least not with words.

She said condoms aren’t one hundred percent effective, so there is some possibility. Should I go after her?

No. She already left. That ship has sailed.

It does me no good to dwell on the what-ifs.

I’m a mafia man. I need to stick to my decisions.

Tara is gone. Pregnant or not, she’s no longer my concern.

I hear another chuckle from Callum. I thought he left. Apparently not. “Got to say, she’s not like your usual ones.”

My brow furrows. “What do you mean by that?”

“She’s feisty.”

“I’ve fucked feisty before.” I quip.

“Yeah.” He agrees. “But once you walk out the door, you forget about them. Not this one. You recognized her. You remembered her name.”

“So.” Why is that important?

He smirks and I want to punch it off his face. “What was the name of the brunette on your lap earlier, when Tara came in?”

“How the fuck should I know? I just met her.” I didn’t know the woman, I needed a prop, and she was there, so I took her. Told her to play along.

“Dude.”

Dude? Since when does he call me dude?

“It was Ashley. The new bartender you hired three days ago. You fucking interviewed her, at that table.” He retorts, while pointing to the table two over from where I stand.

“I thought the new hire was blonde?” I snap back.

He laughs. Fucker.

“She is a blonde. I only said brunette to see if you would remember.” Then he gives me a look. The look. The one that says ‘do you get it now’?

Fucker.

I turn my back to him, and go back to looking down at the club. “Point made.” I push my fingers through my hair. As much as I wish I could wring the stress out of my body that way, it doesn’t work. I do it anyway. “Come on.” I say as I push off the railing and shove my shoulder into Callum’s. “We’ve got work to do.”