In the instant she'd taken off down the street, he'd been forced to acknowledge that she was so much more than a friend who was holding his hand through a crisis. He didn't know how much more and at this moment he couldn't see the point in delving too deeply. He also didn't think she'd appreciate hearing he was coming to care for her deeply-not when another woman and her baby stood between them, as did his fucked-up life and the career he was still trying desperately to hang on to.
He dragged his chair closer, moving so he sat directly beside her. His thigh brushed her bare leg and he savored the warmth of her body heat. "I'm sorry this has been so hard for you."
"Professionally it's the right way to handle things."
"But like you said, this morning's appointment wasn't at all a professional request."
She shook her head. "Never mind that Friends stand by friends."
His gut churned uncomfortably at her casual use of the word.
"So what exactly did the doctor say?" she asked.
Her question forced him to focus. "Are you sure you want to hear about it?"
She nodded slowly. "I didn't want to be there for the discussion. I can handle hearing the news from you."
"Basically he said there're three types of testing." He reached into his pocket for the brochure the doctor had given him and scanned the paper again so he could accurately explain. "Two are invasive and could be dangerous to the fetus. The last one is a simple blood test involving just the mother and potential father's blood samples. The lab extracts fetal blood cells from the mother's sample and compares the DNA to the potential father's. That would be me." He pressed his lips together, anger at himself welling up again,
"When can it be done safely?"
He glanced at Micki, whose normally flushed skin had grown pale during this awkward conversation. "Any time after twelve weeks." Damian had already done the math. Assuming Carole had gotten pregnant their last time together in April, they were just approaching twelve weeks. "Which means we're pretty close to being able to do the test," he said, sparing Micki the details.
"I see. And how is Carole handling all this?" she asked, her voice tight as she unsuccessfully tried to withhold any emotion.
"I don't know," he said, gripping his coffee cup tighter in his hand. "I haven't been in touch with her."
"That's awful!"
He winced. "It's not as cold and callous as it seems." He glanced down, embarrassed about what Micki must think of him. "At first I needed time to digest the news. I needed time to arrange things like this test. And I needed to deal with the idea of possibly being a father"
"And have you?" she asked.
He shrugged, uncertainty still rioting through him.
"I don't know. I can accept it if the test is positive. It's hard to deal with it when it's not even a reality yet."
"I understand that."
"But thanks to you I'm taking steps in the right direction and beginning to wrap my brain around it. On the way over this morning I called my lawyer to set up an appointment to put a trust fund together if the baby is mine." He looked into her blue eyes. "I needed to do all these things before I could go to Carole and discuss things coherently."
Micki exhaled slowly. "I can't imagine what this has been like for you. I know that you're in limbo with Carole and that you're worried about your career, and I know that you're taking a beating in the press-"
"The hell with the press. This mess has taught me that the only opinions I care about are the ones held by the people I-" He'd been about to say love.
A word he never used or even thought about Sitting across from Micki, knowing his feelings for her were growing beyond simple desire or gratitude, it unnerved him to do so now.
"Are you okay?" Micki placed her hand over his.
To Damian it was like touching a match to a wick. His candle was on fire, he thought, holding back a laugh. Who'd have thought his feelings for this woman could lighten his mood and make him happy at a time when he felt like his life was strangling him?
Looking at her, her soft skin and moist lips, listening to her reassure him and tell him she believed he could handle things, he started to believe.
"Actually, I'm fine." Suddenly, his beeper went off, interrupting them.
"Excuse me." He checked the number and muttered a curse. "I was supposed to be at the stadium for an early workout." He'd completely blanked on his priorities-not a good sign.
"Someone's screwed," Micki said helpfully.
"Gee, thanks." Despite himself, Damian laughed. He was on his feet and tossing money onto the table in seconds.
They headed for the street together but when he tried to give her the first cab, she waved him away.
"I'm not going to take this one now and have you hand my head to me on a platter later. You take the first one." She swept her hand in a gallant gesture that had him laughing once again.
Before he got in the car, he turned to Micki. "One question. What made you stick around this morning and not just walk away?" He needed to know what held them together on her side of things.
She shifted from foot to foot before meeting his gaze. "You need me," she said simply, then pivoted to walk away.
It wasn't a declaration of love or even lust.But it was an acknowledgment of a bond and the genuineness of those words meant more than he cared to think about.
Anyway, he had no time to linger, no time to waste. Acting on pure instinct, he pulled her close arid kissed her hard on the lips before sliding into the cab and slamming the door shut behind him.
The taxi sped away, leaving him alone with thoughts he didn't want to have. Panic over being late. Panic over Carole. Panic over losing Micki when this was all over.
Instead of thinking, he pulled out his cell phone and searched for Carole's number in Florida. Surely she was home or at least on her way by now. Thanks to Micki’s reaction, he'd had a revelation, a feeling of what it might be like to be the one in Carole's shoes, uncertain of what life had in store. He certainly couldn't live with himself if he left Carole thinking she was in this alone.
Her answering machine picked up on the second ring and after waiting through her recorded message, he said, "Hey, Carole, it's Damian. I know things can't be easy right now…umm… I’ll be away on a seven-day road trip and then let's plan on getting together to talk when I get home. If you need anything in the meantime, you can reach me on my cell." He reiterated the number, though he was sure she knew it by heart, and hung up, feeling better for having checked on her.
He leaned back in the cab and shut his eyes. Just like at night, his thoughts overwhelmed him. In the deepest recesses of-his soul, Damian couldn't imagine fathering a child with Carole. He couldn't imagine the careful planning of his career exploding in his face now, when it was almost over. He still had a chance to go out on top and he didn't want to blow it.
He knew he was possibly the baby's father. But when he tried to do as Micki suggested and face the reality, to view this kid as his, the only child he could envision had blue eyes not brown and naturally blond curly hair, not the kind that came from a bottle.
Unwilling to follow that train of thought, he glanced at his watch. Dammit, he was so late.
To his, never-ending shock, he started to laugh. He'd never been late for a practice, let alone a game. He'd spent his entire career ensuring he remained focused on his goals. And now, when he was preoccupied and completely screwed up, when he ought to be pissed as hell at himself for every wrong move recently made, he felt lighter than he had in years.
MICKI LOCKED HER OFFICE DOOR and drew the shades on the glass windows that made her office visible from the hallway. She'd already freshened her makeup. She had about half an hour to change and make it to her uncle's annual birthday party at his favorite restaurant.
Annabelle was doing better and she'd gotten her doctor's permission to attend the party as long as she stayed off her feet while there and didn't overdo. They'd kept the invitations to a minimum this year, mostly family and a few friends…including Lola and Spencer Atkins.