her eyes, she leaned back in the seat of the SUV and tried to picture herself as Cristiano’s wife. She imagined Cristiano in a tuxedo, striding through his luxury skyscraper while she trailed after him in a dumpy maid’s uniform.
How could the two of them ever marry? What did they even have in common?
Just one thing. Her gaze fell upon the baby in the car seat beside her.
What would it be like for Jack to be raised as a tycoon’s son, wealthy beyond belief? To go to all the best schools, with the best tutors? To be proficient at all the sports of the wealthy, like skiing, tennis, lacrosse? Every door in the world would be open to Jack.
A lump rose in her throat. But would her son be happy? Would he grow up to be a good, honorable man?
“Would you like me to take you home?” Cristiano said in a low voice.
Hallie looked at him over the baby seat in the back seat of the SUV. He’d taken off his tuxedo jacket and loosened his tie. His dark good looks and smoldering gaze burned through her.
“Home?” she whispered.
Cristiano lifted an eyebrow. “Whatever you might think of me, I’m not a total bastard. Now that I have proof of paternity I want you to be comfortable.”
He was willing to take Hallie home? He’d given up his ridiculous plan of forcing her to marry him?
A rush of relief flooded through Hallie; it was so great she almost cried.
“Thank you,” she choked out.
“Give Matthews your address.”
Her address. Remembering what had happened with her landlord that morning, she gulped. She didn’t want to face that horrible man again. Plus, if Cristiano saw where she’d been living, he might change his mind and refuse to let the baby live there. Hallie barely wanted to go back herself.
“Um...in the East Village,” she said vaguely.
Cristiano looked at her expectantly, dark eyebrows raised. Reluctantly she gave Matthews the address.
I just won’t let Cristiano go in, she told herself. The apartment building looked respectable enough on the outside. Plus, maybe her landlord was very sorry for what he’d done. Maybe.
She looked down at her baby, who’d been fed and changed at the clinic and was now happily babbling. She stroked his downy dark hair, looking into the eyes that were exactly like his father’s.
Then she suddenly remembered. Reaching into her diaper bag, she grabbed her phone. Just as she’d expected, she saw multiple messages from her friends.
Are you all right? Is he being nice?
From Tess.
Did he agree to pay child support? How much?
From Lola.
Why aren’t you answering?
Are you being held hostage?
Should we call the police?
Quickly Hallie typed out a response to them both.
All well. Just got a paternity test. He says he wants to be a father to Jack. More later.
She tucked her phone away. Rolling down her car window, Hallie took a deep breath, looking out into the warm, humid July night as their SUV drove into the Lower East Side. She felt sick at the thought of seeing her landlord, who wasn’t a proper landlord at all, just a guy who’d been willing to rent her a room in his apartment at a cut-rate price.
But the man had made it clear to her that morning that he expected her to pay in other, less tangible ways. She gulped. She never would have wanted to come back here, except she’d left behind all her most precious possessions. Her old family photos from West Virginia. Her grandmother’s homemade quilt. Her father’s watch. It was everything she had left of her family now.
Hallie took a deep breath. She’d just pay the landlord off, take all her stuff and then she and the baby could check into a hotel.
“Um...” Hallie bit her lip. “Do you think we could stop somewhere so I could cash my check?”
“You waste no time.” The corners of Cristiano’s lips twitched. “You think some check-cashing store is going to count you out a hundred thousand dollars in twenty-dollar bills?”
“Maybe a bank...”
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