He walked into the office and whatever he was expecting from Emma Grimes, this wasn’t it. The walls were all a dark, heavy blue, the furniture antique and cherry. The baseboards had been refinished to match. The tin tiles that had once been on the ceiling in this building had been replaced by a painted fresco, in the same dark colors. A night scene by the river and a woman in a ball gown. The ball gown seemed to meld into the river.
“Lovely, isn’t it?” Emma asked. “My assistant, Missy, painted it for me. If you’ll come this way.”
He noticed that while Emma was as pretty as she’d ever been, there was something delicate about her now. Something breakable. Maybe it was the way her short, pixie blond hair framed her face, or maybe it was the clothes she wore. Reed would bet it was all an act to lull her prey into submission.
He knew Emma would be a fierce opponent and from the way Gray watched her, it was obvious he knew it, too.
His gaze was drawn to Gina as soon as the door opened. She sat at a long table, her fingers clasped together, her knuckles white. She was as nervous as he was.
There was part of him that wanted to go to her, to embrace her and tell her that they’d figure this all out. That he didn’t want to hurt her and most of all, that she could trust him.
But he didn’t know if she could because he didn’t know if he could trust himself.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi.”
Christ, it was as if they were in middle school and he was trying to hold her hand or something. But he guessed neither of them knew what to say.
Gray stepped in. “Thank you for agreeing to meet with us on such short notice. My client and I felt it would be best for everyone involved if we moved quickly.”
Reed sat down across from Gina and he was filled with so many questions, waves of different emotions.
“We did, as well.” Emma nodded. “We’ve considered your requests and we have some caveats of our own.”
“Being?” Gray raised a brow.
“My client is willing to marry, granted that she and the child each have their own room and—”
He didn’t hear the rest of what she said. Only that Gina was willing to marry him. It was a bittersweet feeling, until he heard “separate quarters and separate lives.” And then it was all pain. A sharp reminder that he’d never be anything more to her.
“There’s no way my client will or should have to agree to that. He’s an upstanding member of the business community and has a certain reputation to maintain.”
“Reputation? Everyone knows his backstory. It was in Finance Today. You can’t hide that now.”
“Hide it? We’re not trying to hide it. But it’s where he came from, not who he is now. That’s a hard no. We won’t negotiate on that.”
Emma smiled. “That’s fine. We’ve shown that we were willing to cooperate and now it’s you who won’t compromise. I expect a judge would hand down a ruling in our favor on this particular point.”
Gina had gone pale and her eyes were heavy and hooded. As if she knew this was going to be the sticking point.
“It’s fine,” he blurted.
“What?” Gray snapped.
“It’s fine. I’ll do it.”
“There is no way—”
“I said I’d do it, Gray. Move along.” He didn’t want to quantify his decision in front of everyone; it would be the same as admitting everything to them that he’d just admitted to himself.
“It seems my client is in a giving mood. What else do you want?”
“If you want Gina to quit her jobs, she needs a stipend that will cover her school and living expenses.”
“We already—”
“An account in only her name. Reed doesn’t get to control the purse strings.” Emma lifted her chin, daring him to argue that one.
Argue he did. “Why not? It’s his money.” Gray squared his jaw.
“And this is my client’s life,” Emma reminded them all.
“Fine. Whatever she wants,” Reed said, even though he hadn’t looked away from Gina and she had yet to look at him again.
“Reed!” Gray sounded like a scandalized maiden aunt. “I really have to advise against—” Gray sighed. “You do know you just wasted my retainer, right?”
“I don’t care. Give her whatever she wants.” His eyes raked over her as intense as any touch, though his fingers itched for a physical connection.
“Good. I have a revised version of the paperwork right here.” Emma rustled some papers.
“But I want you to look at me, Gina.” Reed had to see her eyes. She could never hide her feelings. They were always so obvious in her expression.
Gina swallowed hard and raised her head as if all the weight of the world bore down on her.
He could see her fear, her hesitation, the almost cruel hope that lurked there, so he knew she was feeling much the same as he was.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Whatever she needs to feel safe, for both her and Amanda Jane.” Reed knew it was a weakness, but he’d do anything to get that look off her face. To know that he didn’t cause the fear in her heart.
“Me?” A small face peered around the corner of the door. “Is it my turn to come in, Gina-bee?”
Reed almost choked on the strange knot in his throat. “You brought her?”
“What else was I going to do with her?” Gina said quietly. “I thought you’d be anxious to meet her.”
It was his turn to look away, to be unable to meet Gina’s eyes, or Amanda Jane’s. He’d seen his daughter from a distance at the Bullhorn, but the prospect hadn’t been expressly real.
Nothing had ever made him feel as unworthy as he did in that very moment—and that was really saying something. Reed was reminded every day with a certain clarity that he didn’t deserve all the things he had, and that he didn’t belong.
But there was such a purity in a child’s eyes...specifically her eyes, that he couldn’t stand to be the one to break it.
Gina took pity on him. “No, Amanda Jane. It’s not your turn.”
“But I’ll be good.” Her little voice was full of hope.
“Yes, you’re always very good. So you can stay up very late tonight and then it will be your turn.”
The door clicked shut softly.
“Even if you’re not ready to meet her, she’s ready to meet you. You can meet us at the house tonight. Seven Sisters Road off Highway 5. Only house on the block.”
The part of him that was still a child himself wanted to run. He could just write her a check and he’d never have to face the scorching hope in that child’s face again. That was all she wanted from him, anyway.
For one horrible moment, he wondered what it would be like to have one moment of relief from this pain. Numbing this terror. He knew just what would do that for him, but he pushed it out of his head. He was afraid, but he didn’t want the numbness, not really. He just didn’t want to feel unworthy and he wouldn’t give those feelings validation by making them true, by making himself unworthy.
He wasn’t a boy. He wasn’t a child. He was a