“That may not happen,” he says. “Claire is determined to get your mind off all this. There’s no way I’ll see you this afternoon at the apartment. Enjoy it. I need to visit my lawyer anyway.”
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, uh… It’s just some procedural stuff related to what happened with Cecelia.”
I whip around and stare at him. “What do you mean? Cecelia Lancaster?”
He nods. “Everyone who was in Vegas for poker when it happened is a suspect. Even Nate.”
“No way. The way he’s had to mourn in public is terrible.”
“It wasn’t any of us, but your video incident has just introduced you to the ugly side of having money. People go out of their way to embarrass you and try to take advantage.”
“I’m sorry.” I hate that all I have is an empty platitude.
He shakes his head and smiles. “It’s going to be fine. Enjoy your afternoon. Tell Caroline I said cowboy boots are a requirement at the Magnolia Homestead ranch.”
“Okay. Who’s Caroline?”
“You’ll see. She’s one of Claire’s good friends. You’ll have fun at lunch today.”
“Why do I think you’re setting me up?”
Landon smiles again and walks away.
Chapter 11
Landon
“Mr. Walsh, please follow me.” The law firm’s receptionist sashays down the hall.
Usually, I might flirt and gauge her interest—get her number and meet her later for drinks and maybe a quick romp. But not today. Not interested.
“Would you care for coffee? Tea?” She smiles, probably waiting for me to offer “Or me?”
Yeah, she’s flirting. I see bottled waters on the table. “Water’s fine.”
Her face drops for a half-second. “Ms. McPhee will be with you momentarily.”
“Thank you.” I sit down and stare out the window. The view is striking, but what I see from my apartment is the most spectacular. I watch cars cross the Bay Bridge and start to count red ones. I get bored once I reach twenty-five.
My mind wanders. I wonder if Tinsley is free for dinner? Maybe we can hit Quince. They have three Michelin stars. Or there’s a great place up in North Beach for pizza or something more relaxed. I hated lying to Tinsley about why I was meeting with my lawyer. I don’t know what’s worse, saying you’re a murder suspect or that you’re being accused of having fathered a child. I will tell her, but once I know more about what’s going on.
The pressure in the room changes as the glass door opens. “Landon, great to see you. Thank you for waiting.”
I turn away from the window. Fiona McPhee, a fine Irish lass, has been my attorney and our personal fixer for years. She helped Claire and me with our immigration papers when our permanent resident cards were expiring and there was a rumor they weren’t going to be renewed. She’s never met a challenge she wasn’t up for. I’m sure today will be no exception.
Fiona puts a folder down in front of her and clasps her hands together. “I sat down with Heather McCoy. She’s taken a blood test that shows some of the father’s DNA and would like you to complete a prenatal paternity test.”
It’s just like Fiona to come right to the point. No greetings, no formalities. Get down to why we’re here. “How is it possible that I got this woman pregnant? Do you have a picture of her?”
Fiona opens the file and shows me a picture of a woman with platinum blond hair and over-tanned skin.
I don’t recognize her. “I’ve never seen her before.”
“She claims she met you at Tate’s last October, and you talked for a short time before going across the street to the SOMA Hotel, room six twenty-four. There you had vigorous sex twice and wore a condom, but she insists it must have broken because she became pregnant.”
“Fiona, look…” I’m trying to not scream that this didn’t happen, because it didn’t. I’ve been reckless in my personal life, but I know who I’ve slept with. Okay, I know the names they gave me, but Jesus, she isn’t one of them. “I didn’t sleep with Heather McCoy.”
“This test will prove it.” I can tell Fiona believes me. She’s gotten plenty of people out of jams similar to this.
She motions, and a woman comes in with gloved hands and a swab. She stands before me. “Please open your mouth. I’m going to rub this on the inside of your cheek.”
She practically chokes me as she shoves the thing in my mouth.
“We’ll have an answer tomorrow,” Fiona assures me.
That’s great, because I want this crazy woman to go away.
The nurse covers the swab with a fancy plastic cap and places it in an evidence bag. She nods at Fiona before she leaves.
I fucking hate this. I’m positive I haven’t even met this woman. “Can I countersue her for harassment? What’s to stop anyone else from doing this?”
Fiona eyes me carefully. “There will be others. But next time you’re accused, we’ll be able to use this DNA swab. The other option is to become celibate.” She gives me a plastic smile.
I don’t like Fiona today.
“I’ve met someone,” I tell her.
“Really? Do I need to do a background check on her?”
“No. Jim did that when we bought her company.”
Fiona introduced me to Jim Adelson and Clear Security back when Claire and I first started having problems.
“Oh, so you’re going to pee in your own sandbox.” Fiona cocks her head to the side. “Landon, we’ve been down this road before. You should know better.”
I take a big breath. If I wanted to be lectured, I’d have come clean with Claire. “There’s something here. We’ve talked about it, and we’ve decided we’ll be friends for six months. After that, once we get Claire’s buy-in,
