“Actually, my attorney did all of that. I just told him I wanted my child and that you were unwilling to come to an agreement.”
How dare he try to blame her for this? “So you decided to serve all this—” she tossed the envelope onto the desk “—on me? It won’t work. I’m not going to let you take custody of this baby. I’ll fight you.”
“But you won’t win.”
A red haze clouded her vision, and she curled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. “This is the twenty-first century. I have rights, and no judge in the universe would rule in your favor. I’m not incompetent.” She lifted her chin in defiance. That much she was sure of. She was the poster child of competency.
“Maybe not, but it’ll still cost you buckets of money to prove it.”
All the air left her lungs at his matter-of-fact pronouncement, but Chris just shrugged. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, but it doesn’t really matter if I can do half of what’s in that envelope. My lawyers will serve you with motion after motion, and you’ll be forced to respond to each one.”
The possibility of a long, legal battle sobered her. It wouldn’t matter if she was in the right; the repercussions would be horrific—not only on her, but on her family, on Molly, on the baby. Especially on the baby.
“Zillion-dollar endorsement deals will buy a lot of legal expertise, Ally.”
Dear God, he was right. She didn’t have the money to fight. She’d be bankrupt just responding to a fraction of the motions in that envelope. And if she couldn’t fight him, would he win simply by default? Her stomach dropped. She’d made a horrific mistake in angering him, and she’d walked straight into this mess with her pride and anger. But what could she do now?
Chris seemed to realize when that last thought crystallized for her. He indicated for her to sit again, and took the other chair. “Maybe now you’ll be more open to negotiation.”
Negotiation? Just the two of them? She looked carefully for the trap, but Chris’s face was the picture of friendliness and conciliation. Oh, she’d love to kill him. “You mean to tell me…You did this to…This was all just scare tactics?” Hesitant relief now mingled with her earlier anger, and the emotional toll left her drained as her head spun. As much as she’d like to turn on her heel and march out of there, she needed to sit.
“No, not just scare tactics. If we can’t come to a workable solution, I will do whatever it takes. Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”
She tried to sort her scrambled thoughts, but those blue eyes locked on hers didn’t help the process. She’d spent the past three days trying to figure out what to do, and she wasn’t any closer to a solution than she was when Chris had stormed off her front porch. Trying to balance what was right for the baby with what would be good for them both in the long run…Chris’s arrival had thrown all of her carefully made plans into the wind.
Then those papers had arrived and she hadn’t been able to think at all. Chris’s sudden willingness to be reasonable just brought back all of her earlier problems—this time coupled with the suspicion she wasn’t going to like these negotiations.
Anger had kept her not-just-in-the-morning sickness at bay so far today, but as it ebbed, nausea swept back in. She fumbled in her purse for the bag of saltine crackers stashed there. She nibbled slowly on one, grateful for the stalling tactic, as Chris frowned. Then he left, returning a minute later with a paper cup.
“Ginger ale. It should help.”
She nodded her thanks and sipped carefully. A few deep breaths later, her stomach settled some and the queasiness waned.
“I’m guessing discussing this over lunch is out of the question?”
Looking up, she saw a hint of laughter in those blue eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitched. He found her nausea amusing, did he? Next time, she’d just let fly on his shoes. See how funny he thought that was. “I’ll stick with the crackers.”
Of course, sitting in Chris’s office with those horrible papers still on his desk waiting for him to tell her what he wanted from her wasn’t helping her stomach much, either. Chris certainly had the upper hand in this “negotiation,” and she knew it. You have no one to blame but yourself, her conscience nagged. You fired the opening shot. She needed to forget about her stomach and focus on keeping Chris reasonable—
“How’s your brother?”
The change in topic jarred her, and she looked at him blankly.
“Your brother got hurt. That’s why you left Tortola so suddenly, right?”
How’d he know that? “He’s fine now. He flipped a dirt bike in a race and it landed on him. He was banged up a bit, but Mom just did her usual freak-out and I had to come sort everything…” Don’t give him more ammunition to use against you later. Her batty family was a liability now. Great. She tried to shrug off the statement. “You know how moms are.”
Chris didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs at the ankles, looking far more relaxed than was at all fair, considering the emotional mess she was at the moment. “And you’re in business with your best friend. That’s interesting. You’re a bookkeeper, correct?”
These questions she could answer properly. Nothing about AMI could possibly be used against her later. “Bookkeeping and general accounting, payroll, taxes—we do it all. My degrees are in accounting and finance, and Molly is also a CPA.” She couldn’t keep the pride out of her voice. “We’ve been in business for six years now and we operate totally in the black. Our clientele continues to grow, and we’ve won several small business awards…” At Chris’s amused smile, she stopped. “What’s so funny?”
“This isn’t an interview. You don’t need to read me your résumé.”
Confusion reigned. “Then why did you ask?”
Chris sighed. “I’m trying to get to know you a bit better. We’re about to have a baby together, and we hardly know each other.” His eyebrow quirked up suggestively. “We didn’t spend much time talking before.”
In a flash, the memories of how they did spend their time hit her, and the muscles in her thighs tightened as the images caused a physical response. She hadn’t allowed her thoughts to go there since Chris had shown up so unexpectedly and turned her life upside down. But now they were alone, he was within arm’s reach, and he was smiling at her knowingly.
Argh. She tamped the memories down and focused on the moment. Chris wanted to play get-to-know-you games, but she wanted to get this over with so she could figure out what her next move should be. The suspense was killing her.
Just don’t antagonize him again. Be calm. Be diplomatic. “Can we get back to the matter at hand? I apologize for the other day, and obviously you do have a right to be a part of your baby’s life. I want to work this out amicably, but you have to tell me specifically what you’re after.” Proud of herself, she sat back in the chair.
Chris steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful. “You’re sure you don’t want to get married?”
Oh, God. “Positive,” she managed to choke out.
“It’s a simple, obvious solution.”
“And one that’s guaranteed to put us right back in this situation in a few years—only then, we’d be fighting out the divorce as well as custody arrangements.” She wasn’t ready to think about marriage to anyone—not now. She’d already had one narrow escape—a lucky one—but it had taken its toll. Plus, she wouldn’t be