Getting Lucky. Avril Tremayne

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      “Protection from what?”

      “From me. Think of it as the prenup you have when you’re not getting married.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding me!”

      “I’m not going to have people say I baby-trapped America’s favorite dot-com billionaire.”

      He stared at her for one long, fraught moment. And then, “Okay,” he said, and read the document. “Right.” Looking up. “Got it.”

      “Read it again.”

      “I don’t need to read it again, Romy.”

      “Yes, Matt, you do. You make decisions too quickly. And this is important. Important enough that you might want to have your lawyer read it. In fact, you should get your lawyer to read it.”

      “I don’t need my lawyer to read it, because I’m not signing it.”

      “Well, of course I’m not expecting you to sign it right this minute.”

      “I’m not signing it, period.”

      “What?”

      “Will this make it easier to understand?” he asked—and ripped the page in half, dropping the two pieces back onto the desk.

      “Why did you do that?”

      “Because if you think I’m going to sit here on a fortune while my kid lives on a budget on the other side of the world, you’ve got rocks in your head. I may know fuck-all about being a father, and we both know I’d be a shitty role model for a kid—”

      “You would not!”

      “—but one thing I can do, and do easily, is money.”

      “I don’t want your money, Matt.”

      “The money’s not for you, so get over it. You’re getting just about everything you want out of this deal, Romy, and that’s fine. That’s great. I’m cool with it. But for the love of God, stop rubbing in the whole I-don’t-need-you-Matt thing.”

      “Rubbing—? Need—? I don’t—!” She peered at him as though trying to dive into his brain. “I don’t understand. All I’m trying to do is protect you!”

      “I don’t want to be protected. I just...” He stopped, dragged in a slow breath. “I just...want to do this.”

      “You are doing this. You’re providing half the chromosomes.”

      “Yeah, anyone with a dick can do that.”

      “But I want your dick,” she said.

      They looked at each other in shock—and then they both burst out laughing. And God it felt good. Back to normal. Almost.

      “Is that a Freudian slip?” he asked. “Because hey, come on over to my side of the desk.”

      “Oh, shut up.”

      “Look,” he said, “seriously, what difference is it going to make if I fling you a few dollars? I could support a hundred kids and not notice the outlay.”

      “It’s not supposed to be about buying a baby.”

      “I’m not selling one.”

      “It’s not fair to you. Not when you’ll have a real family one day.”

      “You are my real family. You, Rafael, Veronica, Teague, crazy Artie.”

      “You know what I mean. What happens when you get married?”

      “I’m not getting married. No other kids. This is it for me. My one chance. So don’t take it away from me over something stupid like money.”

      “Are you blackmailing me?”

      “I’m appealing to your kind heart.”

      “You are so full of it!”

      “Okay, I’ll switch to blackmail if you’re going to be mean about it. I’m making it a nonnegotiable condition of my participation. No money, no kid.” He picked up the pieces of paper. “Now, are we starting negotiations on the same torn page, or not?”

      “Blackmail isn’t a negotiation.”

      “Ticktock, time’s a-marchin’.”

      “Yes, but it’s my clock that’s ticking, not yours. You have all the time in the world to have other kids.”

      “Don’t want others. I’m good with clocks. Might as well synchronize my alarm with yours. Are we on? Decide.”

      “I don’t—I can’t—I’m not...not like that. I don’t make decisions on the fly.”

      “But I do, Romy. And things work out just fine for me. So decide. Now.”

      Long, long moment. And then, “Okay,” she said, the word sounding as though it had been dragged out against its will. “I’ll take the money, but I want it tied up in a trust. I mean it, Matt. No sneaky stuff. No saving me from imaginary destitution on the sly. I’m getting my lawyer involved—I’m warning you.”

      He dropped the paper pieces. “Just so you know, I’ve already got my lawyer on the case, and I’ll bet she’s scarier than yours. If I want to sneak money to you on the sly, it’ll be done before you know it’s happening and there’ll be nothing you can do about it.”

      “Now you see, that’s your inner superhero waving his flag. You think you’re saving a damsel in distress, but I promise you, I’m not in distress.”

      “Have you thought that maybe this isn’t about you, it’s about me? How do you know I’m not the one buying a baby?”

      “What? No!”

      “And if I told you straight out that I am?”

      “I guess I’d ask why you chose me.”

      Their eyes met. Held. Something flashed inside him. Hot. Vivid. “And I’d answer...because it’s you,” he said. And the instant the words were out, he knew they were true. He was doing this not only for her, but because it was her. Because she was the one pure thing in his life and he needed her and if they shared a child he’d always have her. And his child...? Well, of course he had more to offer his child than money: he had her. Her light, to cancel out his darkness.

      “Oh!” she said, blinking furiously.

      Shit! “Don’t go troll on me,” he warned.

      “I won’t. I promise. It’s just...nice. To hear that.”

      “Yeah, well, don’t get sentimental about it. It’s to my benefit to give my kid a good mother. Less chance

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