Chapter 3

Vincent gave his wrist a little flourish, showing off the watch, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

Taking over some rich family's business? What heiress would let herself get pregnant before the wedding and hand the in-laws a scandal like that to laugh about?

And he'd called her my girlfriend. God, I was single. Where was this girlfriend supposed to have come from?

I frowned and dug through every memory I had, going all the way back to childhood, and came up with nothing resembling a girlfriend.

Carefully, I asked, "Which girlfriend of mine are you talking about, exactly?"

Dirk couldn't hold back a snort of laughter.

Vincent's brow furrowed. He'd clearly taken my question at face value, and now he was practically defending my nonexistent girlfriend's honor.

"Wow, playing the field with multiple women at once. Guys like you don't even deserve to compete with me. Once she has my kid, her whole family's fortune belongs to me and my son."

He kept going, bragging without pause. "Remember that trip to the Laurelwood two months ago? I guess I really was born to marry into money. Nailed it on the first try."

The Laurelwood?

I suddenly remembered that college friend's birthday party. But my "girlfriend" was a man. And we hadn't even gone to the Laurelwood that night.

So whose baby was it?

He'd been secretly watching me and peeking at my phone for a while before this. Had he walked into the wrong room and mistaken someone else for me?

A pregnancy wasn't something to brush off, especially not a mix-up like this. I couldn't ruin some girl's whole life over a joke I'd made once, so I opened my mouth. "This kid definitely isn't—"

He cut me off before I could finish. "Don't you dare whine at me. I'm not about to tell my girlfriend to get rid of the baby. You'd better cut things off with Liza right now, or I'll tell her all about you playing the field."

I let out a short laugh, my eyes going back to his watch and necklace. If that woman had already given him gifts like that, it meant they'd been in contact for a while. And if she was willing to carry his child, it meant she didn't care who he really was.

I'd been about to play the good guy and step in, which, in hindsight, was pretty foolish of me.

So I played along. "Since she doesn't care, don't blame me for not caring either. I'm blocking her right now. Congratulations, hope she gives you eight sons in one go."

He gave a smug little laugh. "Now you're getting it."

Then he swaggered back to his desk like he'd just won something. Dirk and Jimmy traded a look and, by unspoken agreement, kept their heads down and their mouths shut.

Ever since his girlfriend's pregnancy, Vincent had started acting like the most precious young master in the whole company. He was constantly ordering the rest of us around, even dumping parts of his own workload onto other people.

"Dirk, go get me some water, would you? The break room's too crowded, and I don't want to get my clothes dirty."

"Jimmy, print this file out for me. It's too far to walk, and my legs are killing me."

He carried his girlfriend's pregnancy test result around on purpose, strutting around the office all day putting on a show, sighing dramatically every so often.

"No wonder everyone says pregnancy is hard on both sides. I'm not even a dad yet, and I'm already a nervous wreck. All this stress makes a guy hungry.

"Mickey, I'm not a petty guy. I know you and my girlfriend had something once, but that's ancient history now.

"I've got a craving for a burrito from that food cart on Fifth Street. Go grab me one, would you?

"Get two eggs on it. Might help with the stress."