He’s really been softening up lately. I saw him about ten minutes ago and he seemed unusually interested in how I’m feeling. I didn’t even know he knew who I was.”
Matt remembered his conversation with Kane earlier. “He knows who you are. You’re hard to miss.”
She made a face. “I know. Thanks for the reminder.” She gestured helplessly at her belly. “Not too much longer.”
“I didn’t mean that,” Matt said, then laughed. “Although you have a point. But you’re a standout anyway.”
She screwed up her face. “In a good way or a bad way?”
“A good way, of course. If it was in a bad way, I wouldn’t have said anything.” He kept a straight face. “I would have just fired you.”
She cocked her head ever so slightly, but before she could respond, a round, bespectacled man neither recognized called out, “Miss Martin?” from down the hall in front of them.
Matt and Jen turned to see him trundling toward them, sweating, and holding a folder of some sort.
“Yes?”
“Jennifer Martin?” the man asked, mopping his brow with his forearm.
A cannonball of apprehension lodged in Matt’s stomach. Instinctively he stepped in front of Jen and started to ask who the man was, but before he could get a word out, she said, “Yes, I’m Jennifer Martin.”
The man shoved the folder roughly into her hand and said, “These are for you.”
“What?”
The man waddled back down the hall without another word.
“Hey!” she called after him. “Who are you?”
“He looks like a process server,” Matt said gently. “Just a messenger for someone else.”
“An evil, soulless messenger.” She frowned and tried to look at the folder. “But for who?” She lost her grip and dropped the folder rather than her doughnut, then laughed. “Wouldn’t want to drop this. Would you mind picking that up?”
“Not at all.” It went against his instincts to pick up someone else’s private papers, but he couldn’t very well stand there and make her bend over to get them. He lifted the folder and held it out to her.
She gestured that she was holding keys in one hand and her doughnut in the other. “Would you look?” she asked with a charming smile. “Who’s it from?”
He looked at the return address. “Sedgewick-Armour.”
She rolled her eyes. “Ack. I should have known. It’s Philip’s father. I wonder what he wants now. An old pair of socks that Philip left at the apartment, no doubt. Open it up.”
“Jen, I really don’t think I should.”
“Oh, come on.” She dropped her keys into her pocket and pulled a mitten off with her teeth. “It’s no big deal.” She stuffed the mitten into her pocket, transferred the doughnut to her free hand and did the same with her other mitten, watching Matt all along.
With a shrug, he opened the envelope and pulled out the papers. His heart sank. “Let’s go back in your office.”
“Why?”
He opened the door, put a hand on her small shoulder and guided her back into the office.
“Matt, jeez, what’s the matter? What do they want, the stereo? They can have it.”
“They don’t want the stereo, Jen.” She was eight months pregnant and single. That was hard enough without additional stresses. This was going to be devastating. And it was absolutely the last thing in the world she needed right now. “Have a seat.”
She obviously picked up on the seriousness of his tone because she took the folder, saying, “What is this? I can’t read all this legal mumbo jumbo.”
“Sit.” He helped her into her chair and knelt before her, taking her hands in his, resting them on top of the folder on her lap.
“What is it, Matt? What do they want?”
He gave her hands a squeeze and swallowed hard. “They want the baby, Jen.”
Chapter Two
“What do you mean they want the baby?” Jen asked, but she knew. She knew even without the sympathy she saw in Matt’s warm hazel eyes. The drumming in her chest, the tightening of her stomach, the burning in her throat all told her: Philip’s parents were trying to get custody of her unborn child.
Matt put a soothing hand on her shoulder. Her muscles, which had drawn as tight as a bow, relaxed slightly beneath his touch.
“The fact that they want custody doesn’t mean they’ll get it, you know,” he said. “You’re the child’s mother, that means everything.”
Jen tried to smile, but tears spilled down her cheeks instead. “It should. But we’ve all heard of custody cases that clearly go in the wrong direction.”
“It’s very rare, Jen. Very rare.”
She nodded unhappily. “Yeah, well, Dutch Sedgewick is one of the most powerful lawyers in Chicago, in fact, he’s probably the most powerful lawyer in Chicago. If anyone could win a case like this, it would be him.” Suddenly she felt as if she couldn’t breathe. She put a hand to her chest and swallowed a sob. She was vaguely aware of Matt moving to her desk and picking up the mug of water she always had there.
He brought it back, handed it to her, and pulled a chair up in front of hers. “Jen, they’re not going to take your baby away.” He sat and leaned toward her. “There’s no way they could get away with it.” There was such kindness and concern in his expression that, for a moment, Jen felt reassured.
But it was only for a moment. “There are probably two thousand ways they could get away with it, and Dutch knows each and every one, case by case.” A wave of anger rose in her but broke into fear.
“He’d have to prove that you were an unfit mother, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to do that.” He captured her gaze with his own, and held it. “Your character is so sterling it’s nearly blinding in sunlight.”
She closed her eyes. “I’ve done some things in my life that I’m not that proud of. Nothing huge, of course, but little things that might prevent a nomination to sainthood down the road.”
“Sounds interesting.” He smiled his even white smile. “You’ll have to tell me about them sometime. But whatever they are, I’m one hundred percent sure they’re not going to lose you custody of your child. The world just doesn’t work that way.”
She stood up and paced the floor in front of him. “I’d like to believe that, but unfair things happen all the time. Murderers go free because they confess before the police read them their rights, airplanes crash because a tiny wire over the baggage sparks, children get
