“Dave,” he said the moment he heard the man’s voice on the end of the phone. “I want you to get a court order to request the baby’s DNA, now.”
“Good morning to you, too, Sam,” David Fox’s amused voice echoed in his ear. “I thought we decided on a softer approach first time around, to gauge if the other party would enter discussions and testing willingly. You know, avoid potentially antagonizing the woman who might just be your baby’s mother? The woman you probably don’t really want to alienate?”
“I know,” Sam said, huffing out a breath of frustration. “But I don’t want to wait any longer. I want the tests done and I want those answers now.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” the lawyer replied, his voice now all solemnity. Maybe he finally understood how serious Sam was.
“Good, call me when you have news.”
Sam disconnected the call and shoved the phone back in his pocket. So, Erin Connell thought she could fight him. Well, she was in for a fight all right.
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