Chapter 3

"Actually," I said, voice sweet as honey, "I found most wealthy men pretty easy to read. They want to feel important, so you let them. They want to feel clever, so you laugh at their jokes. They want to feel desired, so you..." I shrugged. "Simple psychology."

Don shifted uncomfortably.

"Fascinating," Lottie said, but her voice was tighter now. "And did this... psychology... work well for you? Financially, I mean?"

"Well enough." I stood up, done with this game. "Though I always knew it was temporary. That kind of work... it's not sustainable long-term. Smart girls know when to get out."

Let her chew on that. She wants to play games about who belongs where? Fine. But I'm not the same scared girl I was two years ago.

"Before you go," Lottie said suddenly, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but... when are you due exactly?"

"February 14th. Valentine's Day."

"How romantic!" But she was doing math in her head, I could see it. "So you conceived around... May?"

Why does she care when I conceived? That's weird, even for someone being bitchy.

"Something like that," I said vaguely.

"Lottie," Don stood up, "we should go too. Dinner reservations, remember?"

But Lottie wasn't finished. "It's just so funny how these things work out. Timing, I mean. Life has such interesting... coincidences."

She looked directly at Don when she said this, and something passed between them. Something that made my stomach twist.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing specific. Just... when you think about when things happen, you know? When relationships end, when new ones begin, when... other things happen."

She knows something. About the timing, about Don, about... what? Don and I broke up two years ago in March. If my baby was conceived in May, that's two months after we split. But why would that matter to her?

"Anyway," I said, "have a lovely Christmas, you two."

"You too." Don said quietly. "Give my regards to your husband."

When I walked away, I could feel them watching me. Through the window, I saw them having what looked like an intense conversation, Lottie gesturing with her hands, Don looking frustrated.

Whatever that was about, it wasn't just random bitchiness. Lottie suspects something, but what? And why does it matter now? I'm married, pregnant, completely out of Don's life.

Standing outside in the cold Christmas air, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. That running into them today wasn't a coincidence.

Lottie had asked too many questions about timing. And Don... Don looked guilty about something.

I rubbed my belly, thinking of Bennett probably worrying about where I was. Home was waiting for me, warm and safe, with a man who truly loved me.

But as I walked to my car, a thought crossed my mind that I immediately tried to push away:

What if they think this baby is Don's?

I'd barely stepped out of Starbucks when I heard footsteps behind me.

"Red, wait."

I turned to see Don jogging toward me without his coat. Behind him, I could see Lottie at the coffee shop window, clearly watching our interaction.

Great. Whatever this is about, she's orchestrating it.

"What is it, Don? I really need to get home."

"I know, I just..." He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture I remembered too well. "Look, what Lottie said back there about timing... she has a point."

"A point about what?"

"About coincidences." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Red, when exactly did you conceive?"

And there it is. The real reason for this conversation.

"I told you, around May. Why?"

"May." He was doing math again. "We broke up in March."

"So?"

"So that's only two months, Red. Two months to meet someone, fall in love, get married, have a baby..." He paused. "It's fast."

"I explained this already. When you know, you know."

"Do you?" His eyes were intense now, searching my face. "Or is there something you're not telling me?"

This is dangerous territory. Not because the baby is his - it's not. But because I can see where this is going, and it's nowhere good.

"What are you suggesting, Don?"

"I'm not suggesting anything. I'm asking." He glanced back toward the coffee shop where Lottie was still watching. "Look, I know this sounds crazy, but... what if we just did a test? Just to be sure."

"A test?"

"DNA test. Prenatal paternity test. They can do it now, even before birth."

I stared at him. "You want me to take a paternity test?"

"It would put everyone's mind at ease. Yours, mine... Lottie's."

Lottie's mind? Why would she care unless she's been filling his head with doubts. Making him think there's some possibility this baby could be his.

"Don, the baby isn't yours."

"Then the test will prove that, won't it?"

"Why do I need to prove anything to you? You're engaged to someone else. I'm married to someone else. This has nothing to do with you."

"Doesn't it?" He stepped closer. "Red, if there's even a chance—"

"There's no chance."

"Then take the test."

This is insane. But if I refuse, it looks like I have something to hide. And honestly? Part of me wants to take the damn test just to shut them both up.

"Fine." The word came out before I could stop it. "Fine, we'll do your test. But after this, I never want to see either of you again."

Relief flooded his face. "Thank you."

"Where?"

"I know a place. Discreet, professional. We can go right now."

Right now? He has this all planned out. This wasn't a spontaneous question - this was orchestrated.