ask for a complete genealogical workup going as far back as possible.” Michael rubbed more salt into his wound.
After all, Susan was a lawyer. A damn good one. She wanted all the answers.
“Of course, all that extra effort, getting to know someone that well, tracking down someone’s heritage—it might be a little off-putting, might make her reconsider....” Seth was obviously trying his best to help.
“Not Susan.” Michael voiced what both men knew. Turning, he picked up the pencil and added some finishing touches to the cartoon. “Because she’d underestimate the work involved, the difficulties. Just like she always does.” Just like she had that night she’d tried to talk him out of the divorce. She’d made it all sound so simple. Him living in one state, her in another. But he’d known a marriage could never survive under those circumstances. Marriage meant commitment, expectations. Sharing one life. Not two.
“So, you going to do it?” Seth asked painfully, as though he were suffering right along with Michael. And, in a sense, he probably was. Seth obviously felt pretty strongly that Susan was making a big mistake.
Michael tossed the pencil. “The last thing in the world I want is to be a father.”
“I don’t think Susan’s looking for a father,” Seth said. “I had the impression she just wants the...you know. The genes.” He could tell Seth didn’t approve of that, either.
“Yeah,” Michael said. “That’s the way I took it.” She wanted his sperm. Not him.
And that rankled, too.
THE OFFER FROM Coppel Industries came through on Friday morning. Coppel stockholders wanted to make Michael a vice president of finance. If he accepted, he’d be on the road, traveling around the country, analyzing current holdings, but mostly seeking out new ones. Diversification was the key to success. And Coppel felt that Michael could pick winners.
He’d have an office, too, a posh one, at Coppel headquarters in Atlanta.
The offer exceeded his expectations; it was a culmination of everything he’d worked for his entire life. More than a dream come true, it was a mountain successfully scaled, a goal reached, years of endless toil rewarded. Of course, it also came with Coppel’s words of warning still ringing in Michael’s ear. No entanglements. No dependents.
Michael took the job.
“OKAY.”
“Okay?” Susan sat down. She’d been waiting for his call all week.
“I can’t pretend I’m happy about this.”
Sitting on the floor of her bedroom, wearing nothing but the slip and panty hose she’d been in the process of taking off, Susan couldn’t stop grinning. “I know.” She couldn’t believe it! He was really going to do it.
“You don’t have a child on a whim, Susan.”
“I don’t do anything on a whim, Michael.”
“Single-parenting is tough.”
Susan glanced at her watch. Seven o’clock on Friday night. She wondered if he was still at the office.
“I can handle it.”
“And you think it’s fair to the kid, bringing him into the world without a father?”
“I have five brothers, Michael, all of whom live within twenty miles of my home. I don’t think he—or she—will be lacking male attention.”
“This is nuts.”
“I don’t think so.” It felt right. To be having a baby. To be having Michael’s baby. Of course she’d prefer to be doing it the traditional way. To be sharing more than just the conception with Michael. But she’d be happy.
A baby!
“What about your job?”
“What about it?”
“You’re still planning to work?”
Susan frowned. “Of course.” And then, “Who do you think’s going to support this child?”
“And you honestly think you can work fourteen hours a day and still be a good parent?”
Her arms about her empty stomach, Susan leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. “The only reason I still work fourteen-hour days is because I have nothing to come home for.” It was the first time she’d admitted the truth, even to herself. “I’m not climbing up anymore, Michael. I’m at the top.”
“There are always higher mountains to climb.”
“I like the one I’m on.” She used to, anyway. And she would again. In spite of Tricia Halliday.
“I can’t be a father, Susan.”
“I’m not asking you to be.”
Ice clinked in a glass and she heard him swallow. “Hell,” he swore softly. “I don’t even live in the same state.”
“Which has nothing to do with anything.” She wished he’d just relax about it. “Michael, we’re divorced. All I want from you is biology.”
He swallowed again. “You make it sound so simple.”
“Because it doesn’t have to be complicated.” Opening her eyes, Susan stood, finished undressing. “I’m a single woman who’s made the decision to have a baby,” she told him. “It’s happening more and more. Single women are even adopting babies. But I really want the full experience, carrying the child, giving birth. All I’m asking from you is the missing ingredient I need to get started.”
Susan stopped, pulled on a pair of sweatpants. The line was silent. “I could ask a total stranger to provide the sperm,” she said, exasperated. “Would you rather I do that?”
“Hell, no!”
“You’re my friend, Michael.” Throwing herself down on the bed she’d once shared with him, Susan gazed, still topless, at the picture of Michael laughing up at her from the bedside table. “My best friend.” She had to stop for a second. Catch her breath. Swallow the tears that had suddenly appeared. “Who else would I go to when I need a favor?” she finished.
“No one.” He sighed. “You were right to come to me.”
She couldn’t believe how good it felt to hear him say so.
“So when do you want to do it?” His voice dropped, low and gravelly, sexy.
Covering her naked breasts with her arms, Susan wanted to tell him that this weekend was perfect timing, as far as her cycle was concerned. “Whenever it’s...convenient...for you,” she said instead. It felt odd to be discussing it. She and Michael just kind of fell into sex—mostly because they couldn’t help themselves.
They’d certainly never planned it before. It was slightly embarrassing. And she was freezing. Scrambling
