Coffee. Cookies. Damn, she was an idiot.
It was the middle of the afternoon, but who wanted cookies? What was she, like, a ninety-year-old offering the kiddies snacks? This wasn’t a cookie meeting. She picked up the plate and scarfed one down on the walk to the kitchen. They wouldn’t fit back in the packet, they—
A knock at the door raised her head. Shit. This was it. He was here.
Drawing in a deep breath, she faced the inevitable and opened the front door. “J—” Except it wasn’t the man she expected it to be. The two suits on the apartment’s threshold were strangers. “Are you lost?”
“Rylee Hampton?”
“Yeah,” she said, unsure if that was the right answer.
When the two barreled in, she regretted her agreement. Passing by her kitchen, they planted themselves on her armchair and couch. The latter opened a briefcase on his lap and produced a stack of documents.
If they were so set up, why was she still standing with the door open? Other than just being dumbfounded by their entitlement, one thing was missing.
She glanced out into the hallway. “Where’s JD?”
“Mr. Dawes won’t be joining us.”
Okay, then there was no need for her to be still clutching the door handle. She swung the wood back into the frame and rested a hand on her stomach.
Armchair guy typed into his phone while the paperwork guy noted something in his briefcase and closed it to put it aside.
“I got an email from his account setting this up.”
“He’s a busy man, Ms. Hampton. This is just a formality.”
“A formality?” She drifted toward the couch. Starched, flat affect, but for a glimmer of suspicion, she had this guy pegged. “You’re a lawyer.”
“Yes, I am.”
“And that,” she said, nodding at the document in his hand. “Is what?”
“A thorough contract.”
“Stating…? That I waive my right to child support?” Sitting down, she smoothed her skirt. Apparently, armchair guy didn’t have a purpose other than to just sit there. “I’m not interested in money.”
“You will receive child support. Generous. More than generous child support.” At least he wasn’t going to fight her on— “Pending confirmation of a paternity test.”
She smiled. “I figured that one was coming.”
Not like she could be offended. They’d met and gone to bed with each other the same night. For all JD and his cronies knew, she did the same thing every day of the week. With him being rich and all, he’d be the best guy to peg parentage on if she was a gold digger.
“It’s inescapable and sensible.”
“I agree.” When her hand stopped on her stomach again, his gaze flicked down and back to the motion. “In my email,” which he’d no doubt read, “I said I don’t want anything from JD. If he doesn’t want to be a part of his children’s lives, that’s his call.”
“Mr. Dawes believes in family. He’s a man of integrity.”
“His children shouldn’t be an obligation. We had one night, it was fun. I didn’t expect this either. Following through with this pregnancy is my choice. I have no problem doing this myself and leaving him off the birth certificate.”
“Good, then there won’t be any reason not to sign this.”
He slid up the couch to hand her the outstretched document.
“Wow, weighty.”
It was maybe only ten pages, but when it came to her kids’ lives, even without meeting them in the flesh, their well-being was all that mattered.
“There’s nothing in there meant to trick you. No clause that says you have to repay child support in the event of… It’s a simple transaction. Mr. Dawes will pay monthly support toward the upbringing of these children. In exchange, he’s entitled to one weekend a month visitation.”
“And where will that visitation take place?” she asked, flicking through the papers. “I don’t want them bundled on a jet to God knows where without knowing he’ll bring them back.”
“Again, that’s written into the contract. All duties are covered. He will not take them out of the lower forty-eight without written permission from you.” Wow, really? The guy she’d met in that bar was not a reasonable “written permission” kind of person. “Likewise, you cannot take them from the lower forty-eight without Mr. Dawes’ explicit written permission.”
Ah, gotcha. Yeah. That made more sense. So it was erasing any hint of a double standard, she could appreciate that. Obviously, Mr. Dawes didn’t want her disappearing with the twins and probably had no intention of taking them anywhere himself. Why vacation with two hungry, demanding children when the alternative was loading up a yacht with supermodels and disappearing for a month? What a way to unwind.
“If he can’t show up for this meeting, how do I know he’ll show up for the kids? Does he have experience caring for children?”
She didn’t exactly have bags of it herself, but she’d be Mom from the minute they were born. Not only would she have on-the-job training, she’d also gone to classes and read every book and scoured websites touting tips and tricks. If JD couldn’t show up to discuss visitation, it wasn’t likely he’d be pulling all-nighters to bone up on how to change a diaper.
“Mr. Dawes’ mother will take responsibility for the children when he is unable to fulfill the commitment.”
Polite as this lawyer was trying to be, did he know that using words like “commitment” and “duties” in relation to her children pissed her off?
“So he wants visitation he doesn’t plan to show up for? Our children are…”
With that, she inhaled and closed her mouth. Whatever kind of mother she hoped to be, it wasn’t her place to tell JD what kind of father he should be. That was up to him. All she could do was her best and focus on her own relationship with the twins. The one thing she wouldn’t do was let JD’s picture of parenting influence hers, or her bond with the babies.
“Ms. Hampton?”
“Child support,” she said, turning to the appropriate page. “That’s too much. Two children, yes, defray costs, yes. They do not need sports cars and prize ponies from the minute they’re born. Half it, at least.”
“Okay,” the lawyer said, producing a pen from an inside pocket. “I’ll take that to him. Anything else?”
“I haven’t read the whole thing. It would be smart to have my lawyer look over it.”
“You have a lawyer?”
No. Not yet. But she’d figure it out. “I can get a lawyer.”
“Okay. Do you believe Mr. Dawes is trying to trick you?”
“No,” she said. “But this is a big deal, it’s my children’s lives. I don’t know what I’m looking for in a contract like this.”
“Pick one.”
“Pick—what?”
“Go online, find a lawyer, pick whoever you want.”
“I don’t understand what—”
“This has to be done today. Pick someone you feel comfortable with and Mr. Dawes will cover all costs. Do you have a computer?”
Yes, she had a computer. “What’s the rush?”
“We’re only in town today.”
Okay, yeah, they wouldn’t want to hang around indefinitely waiting for this to be done. Some might say there was no hurry, but, at seven months, these babies could come any time. Wasn’t her fault it took six months to track down a way to get hold of the guy. Men like Dawes got things done. His lawyer would need the same mentality.
She went to the bedroom to retrieve her laptop and put it on the kitchen counter to boot it up. Her feet hurt. Damn, but there was no way she could sit with it on her lap, the kids would get in the way.
“I don’t think that just anyone will be available at a moment’s notice. Are we going to their office? They’ll need time to review—”
“Whoever you want will come immediately,” the lawyer said, leaving the couch to come join her.
“Because you say so?”
“Because money talks,” he said. “I can negotiate on your behalf, if you would like. But I’d imagine offering a fifty K retainer would get even the laziest lawyer off his or her ass.”
For that amount of money, most anyone would jump to action. “Fifty K?”
“Like I said, we have to get this done.”
Just like that. He tossed cash around like it was water. “This is JD’s money?”
“We have a fund specifically for this kind of thing.”
How many secret kids did he have dotted around the country, the world?
“Does he think money fixes everything?”
“He pays me to do the thinking.” Producing a card from his inside pocket, he slid it across the counter. “Write your bank details down. I’ll transfer the money immediately.”
“You’ll transfer it to me?”
“Yes. There’s no reason your lawyer should know where the funds are coming from. We want impartiality. Prevents you suggesting impropriety down the line.”
What did this guy think of her? What had JD told his lawyer about her? She drew the card across the counter to read his name. “Mr. Andrews, don’t forget you came to me. I told JD that he could ignore the email and I wouldn’t create trouble. Why would that be different now?”
“Now isn’t the concern,” he said. “This contract protects all of us in perpetuity.”
Who knows what the future might bring? If they were covering their bases, she needed to do the same.