Well Suited (Red Lipstick Coalition #4)(5)

My mind briefly ran over my financials, concluding quickly that my job as a page at the New York Public Library would not suffice to support myself and the embryo. I’d have to move into research, which I had been avoiding—I loved the solitude of shelving books, and trading that for a full day researching any and everything for strangers sounded exhausting. A nanny would be necessary, of course, but who didn’t have a nanny in Manhattan?

With a deep breath and a curt nod at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I decided.

This was the perfect opportunity to achieve a goal, and it seemed silly not to take it simply because it wasn’t in my plan. It had landed in my lap. Or, more accurately, my uterus.

With that resolved, I stood, set the pregnancy test on the counter, and got down on my knees to empty my stomach.

I swiped at involuntary tears from my cheeks as I stood and turned to brush my teeth. A rush of irrational sadness arrested me. Because all I truly wanted was to tell my friends. Not for validation, but because they were the people I shared everything with. And the comfort of sharing this with them was something I thought I might need, judging by the unfamiliar twist in my chest.

But they were all gone, living their own lives with their boyfriends and husbands and fiancés. And I was here, alone. I didn’t even have Claudius the cat anymore. Amelia had taken him with her when she got married.

I’d text them later and ask them to come over, which I knew they would honor without question. And maybe I’d swing by the shelter and get a cat of my own.

But first, I needed to find Theodore Bane and tell him I was having his baby.





2





Transaction Malfunction





Theo

“Hello, Theodore.”

My shock at finding Katherine Lawson on my stoop, clutching her bag with her chin tilted up to eye me with clinical coolness, happened behind a flat mask of indifference. Primarily because I hadn’t seen her in four weeks, five days, and a handful of hours.

Though not for lack of trying. The elusive creature had avoided me with the stealth and skill of a spy on the run.

“Hello, Katherine.”

“May I come in? I’d like to discuss our transaction last month.”

She used the word transaction—which made her sound like either an ATM or a hooker—with the detached objectivity that had amused and intrigued me when we met. That night. I felt the tug of my lips on one side, a climbing smile I couldn’t have stopped if I wanted to.

Which I didn’t.

I shifted out of the way, taking the door with me. “I’ve been interested in discussing our…transaction for a while.”

“Yes, I know,” she said as she passed.

I caught the scent of clean, crisp soap, nothing more. No perfume, no makeup, her face as fresh and pretty as I remembered. More so. My memory paled in comparison to the real thing. Chestnut hair, straight and neat, with bangs manicured to a strict line. Her eyes were hazel, an amalgamation of browns and mossy greens, flecked with bursts of blue. Bright eyes, sharp with intelligence and curiosity, dark with the shroud she kept between herself and everyone else.

There was an entire world behind those eyes, locked up and kept from everyone.

But I wasn’t everyone.

Her back was straight as an arrow, her shoulders proud and shoulder blades together. But once, I’d seen her soft. Once, I’d heard her sigh. Once, she’d been supple and giving beneath me.

Goddamn it, I hated that she’d blown me off. But as I closed the door and followed her into the entryway, I smirked with smug certainty that I was back in the game.

I stepped into her, reaching to help her out of her coat. “Here, let me.”

My breath stirred her hair, and she froze for a nanosecond before relaxing. I even thought I saw a flicker of a smile on her level lips.

Once her coat hung on a hook, we headed into the living room.

“Can I get you something to drink? Scotch on the rocks, right?”

“No, thank you,” she said, taking a breath to say something else. But she caught herself, lips closing. She moved to the couch and sat.

I took a seat opposite her, leaning back as I hooked an ankle on my knee and an elbow on the back of the couch. I was the picture of casual impassivity. Inside, I was rubbing my hands together as I mapped out every path to convince her to see me again.

“I’m glad to see you, Kate,” I said, still smiling sidelong at her.

“Katherine,” she said stiffly. “I don’t like nicknames.”

“I know, but I do.”

Her eyes flicked to the ceiling. But her cheeks belied her annoyance with a rosy flush. “I have something very important to discuss with you, Theodore.”

“You’re sorry for not calling?”

“No. I didn’t call you on purpose,” she said as if I didn’t know. “Such was our arrangement.”

A chuckle hummed in my throat. “Arrangements can be renegotiated.”

“That’s not why I’m here. During our transaction, there was a malfunction, if you remember.”

All levity was gone with a cold, heavy thunk. My heart and stomach do-si-do’d. I swallowed a lump the size of Delaware, and it bobbed back up and to the back of my throat. “I remember.”

“Well, I’ve just confirmed that I’m pregnant.”