style="font-size:15px;"> His sarcasm made her grin. “Look at it this way. We only get hammered a few times a decade. Apparently, we’re overdue.”
“Well, in that case, shouldn’t you be getting out of here?”
“I’ll catch the six-thirty train. I’ll be fine.”
“What if they shut down the system?”
For the first time, a trickle of unease slid through her veins. That thought had never occurred to her. Her car was parked at a commuter lot four stops north. What was the likelihood she’d be able to drive home even if MARTA took her where she needed to go?
This time, riding the elevator up and back down was more about expediency than anything intimate. While Nathaniel grabbed what he needed from his office, Dani shrugged into her coat, tugged on her boots and adjusted the strap on her purse so she could use it as a cross-body bag. She wanted her hands free to hang on to stair rails if necessary.
Outside, the city was eerily quiet. The snow was heavier now, blanketing buildings and muffling sound. Nathaniel cursed quietly beneath his breath when he saw the conditions. “I’ll drive you to the train station,” he said, his tone brooking no opposition.
“Thanks,” Dani replied, not even bothering with a token protest. On a normal day, the half-mile walk was pleasant exercise. Under these conditions, she’d never make it in time, not to mention the fact that she’d be a frozen mess.
New Century Tech’s main parking facility was a three-level garage attached to the back of the building. For VIPs, a private side-street lot big enough for a dozen spaces provided easy access and the assurance that no clumsy drivers would back into a high-end vehicle.
Nathaniel drove a shiny black Mercedes with all the bells and whistles. Dani had been inside it only once, when she and the boss had gone together across town to present a proposal to a clothing firm seeking to update their online presence and ordering capabilities. Today, when they rounded the corner of the building and spotted Nathaniel’s car—the only one in the lot—she had a sinking feeling that Nathaniel’s offer of a ride had been premature.
The Mercedes was coated with snow, and there were no marks on the ground. Either the various vice presidents had parked in the garage today, or they had left long enough ago for the storm to cover their tracks. Something about the solitary car looked odd.
Nathaniel was the first to respond. “What the hell?”
He jogged the last few feet, Dani close on his heels. They stopped abruptly in tandem. Dani blinked. “Is that a car seat?” she asked, her voice rising an octave in disbelief.
Nathaniel lifted the wooly blanket covering the oddly shaped lump. “Good God. It’s a baby.” His head snapped around, his gaze scanning the immediate area. The blanket was peppered with tiny bits of snow, certainly not enough to indicate the child had been there more than a few minutes.
Dani, too, peeked under the blanket and gasped. An infant, maybe six months old, slept peacefully in a baby carrier. The child was covered from head to toe in a fleecy one-piece snowsuit, but even so, the temperatures were dangerously cold.
“Call 911,” Nathaniel said, his voice as icy as their surroundings. “I’m going to look around. Whoever did this must be close. My guess is they’re watching us to make sure we retrieve the kid.”
Dani was afraid to unfasten the straps and take the baby out. The heavy carrier was offering at least some protection from the elements. As long as the baby slept, he or she must not be terribly uncomfortable. The snowsuit was pink. Dani took a wild shot that the child was a girl. The baby’s cheeks were a healthy color. Her chest rose and fell at reassuring intervals.
Hoping she was doing the right thing, Dani removed her gloves and dialed the authorities.
Nathaniel was pissed. He’d received several texts in the last few days from a number he recognized all too well, offering veiled threats. Never in his wildest imagination had he imagined something like this happening to him. The escapade had his ex written all over it.
Ophelia wasn’t actually an “ex” anything. Nathaniel had met her at an in-town conference over a year ago and spent two nights in her hotel bed. That had been the end of it. Or so he thought.
He’d used protection. No way in hell was this baby his, despite what Ophelia’s rambling emails had insinuated. If she had ever come right out and accused him of fathering her child, Nathaniel would have secured a lawyer and taken the necessary steps to pinpoint the baby’s paternity.
He stood in the shadow of his own building, covered his eyes to keep the snow out of them and scanned windows near and far. Damn it. Ophelia could be anywhere. What was she trying to pull?
At last, he gave up his futile search. Dani stood where he had left her, one hand resting protectively on the edge of the car seat. “I found a note,” she said, holding it out to him. “I read it. I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have.”
Nathaniel unfolded the elegant card with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The contents were much as he had expected:
Dear Nathaniel:
I cannot care for our baby right now. You’re my only hope. When I get my life back together, we’ll talk.
Yours always,
Ophelia
He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying not to overreact. Women had tried to trap men with this ruse since the beginning of time. He’d done nothing wrong. He had nothing to fear.
Crushing the note in his fist, he shoved it in his pocket and opened his eyes to find Dani staring at him with a stricken expression.
“It’s not mine,” he insisted. “I went out with a crazy woman a time or two. She’s trying to blackmail me or something. I don’t know. What did the police say? How soon can they get here?”
Dani hunched her shoulders against the wind. “They weren’t very encouraging. The snow is causing pileups all over the city.”
His heart pounded in his chest. “What about the foster care system? Surely they can send someone.”
“Do you really want to entrust a baby to a stranger on the Friday afternoon of a long holiday weekend? Most foster families are wonderful, but you hear horror stories...” Dani trailed off, her expression indicating that she was upset. Maybe with the situation. Maybe with him.
“Fine.” He sighed. “What exactly do you think we should do?”
“We?” She stared at him as if he had grown two heads. “I’m walking to the MARTA station. If I’m lucky, my route will still be open.”
Atlanta’s transit system was only partially underground. Unlike other major cities, Atlanta did not have enough snow-removal equipment to deal with a weather event of this size. Blizzards were so rare the expenditure would be wildly extravagant.
Nathaniel’s palms started to sweat inside his gloves. “You can’t go yet,” he said. “I need help.” The words threatened to stick in his throat. He wasn’t a man accustomed to
