Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(68)

Nathan acknowledged her with nothing more than a passing stare; his eyes found Wyatt and a tiny smirk lifted from his lips. Then he finally looked at his daughter. His face softened, and for one brief moment Melanie thought maybe, just maybe, Nathan truly gave a crap about his little girl. “Oh, darling . . . look what she let happen to you.”

“Mr. Stone.” Pamela’s warning voice brought his attention to the social worker.

“It hurts me to see her like this.” Knowing Nathan the way she did, she saw through his insincerity and hoped the social worker did too.

“You’re my father?” Hope asked.

“Yes . . . I’m your daddy.”

Hope shook her head. “Daddies don’t leave. You left.”

Nathan forced a smile. “I know that’s what you’ve been told. I’m here now, and I’m not going to leave.”

Hope peered closer and narrowed her eyes. “I’ve seen you before.”

Melanie held her breath.

“When I was in the emergency place.” Hope looked beyond Nathan and at her. “You were yelling at my mommy.”

Nathan glanced at the man he’d arrived with. “I was upset, honey.”

Hope started to frown. “I’m not your honey.”

She shook her head. “And you were yelling at Auntie Jo.”

The seconds ticked by as Nathan tried to back his way out of his actions, which clearly Hope remembered. “When parents hear their children are hurt, it makes them upset, Hope. I’m sorry I yelled.”

Melanie was sure part of Nathan died with the strangled apology. He was sorry for nothing, never had been.

“Why do you care if I got hurt? You don’t even know me.” Hope’s questions were incredibly thought out and well articulated. Both took Melanie by surprise.

Clearly she wasn’t the only one.

“Of course I care, honey.”

Hope narrowed her eyes.

“Hope,” Nathan corrected. “Now that I’ve found you, I’m going to take care of you.”

Hope pushed back into the bed and Melanie reached for her daughter’s hand.

“Mommy takes care of me. Mommy and Uncle Wyatt and Miss Gina.”

Nathan’s voice turned cool. “Yeah, I see how well they’re doing that.”

“That’s quite enough, Mr. Stone.”

Nathan offered half a nod and stood. “I’ll be back tomorrow, Hope.”

Hope just stared and didn’t bother saying good-bye when he started from the room.

“Melanie? Can I have a word outside?”

She considered telling him to screw off but decided it was best to keep Hope away from the hatred boiling in her veins.

“Wyatt and I will be right back, sweetie.”

Pamela lingered behind. “I’ll be here.”

Melanie grasped Wyatt’s hand, squeezed, and pulled him alongside her.

Once they moved away from Hope’s door and hopefully her ears, Nathan turned. “You have her quite brainwashed, Mel.”

The man at Nathan’s side placed a warning hand on his shoulder. “Keep it cool, Nathan.”

“You’re not going to wiggle away from me again,” Nathan kept talking. “I will be back tomorrow, and the next day, and as often as I can until we have this settled.”

“Have what settled, Nathan?”

The elevator doors behind them dinged.

His anger snapped shut with her question and his hand fished into the inside pocket of his jacket. With a sleazy smile he took her free hand, which she nearly snatched away, and shoved the envelope between her fingers. “Divorce and child custody! Consider yourself served.”

“What the—?” She glanced at the envelope and started to tremble. “You have to be married in order to file for a divorce.” She wasn’t a lawyer, but she understood that.

Nathan looked at the man to his side. “See what I mean? Complete denial.”

Melanie clenched the papers in her fist and stepped closer with the full intent of shoving them down his throat.

Wyatt wrapped an arm around her waist, and a new voice to the mix interrupted the scene. “Hold up there, young lady.”

Nathan twisted his attention behind him and paused.

“What do we have here?” The man had to be in his late fifties, with dirty blond hair that shone with a little silver-gray on the sides. Other than that, all Melanie caught at first glance was his height, his suit that looked like a million bucks, and his easy smile.

An easy smile she’d seen before.

Wyatt pried the papers from Melanie’s fist and handed them to the stranger.

“Who the hell are you?” Nathan asked.

The man lifted a finger in the air as he ripped open the seal on the envelope and read the first few lines.

“Tsk, tsk, bad form, Counselor.”

Nathan thumbed in the stranger’s direction. “Who is this guy?”

“This is about as unethical as it gets, serving papers while one is in the hospital. Proves you’re very wet behind the ears.”

“Oh, crap.” The man behind Nathan finally spoke.

“William Gibson,” the stranger introduced himself to Nathan, took a card from his pocket, and handed it to the man at Nathan’s side. “Miss Bartlett’s counsel.”