Page 92 of Mistletoe Mistake
When I arrived at work on December 23rd, there was an extra spring in my step. My plane was scheduled to leave New York late that evening, arriving in London mid-morning on the 24th. Gemma said she would work until noon, so I hoped to meet her at her office, take her out for a nice lunch, then head back to her flat for some time alone, preferably with both of us naked for a good part of it, before we went back out for the midnight service at Westminster Abbey.
However, my best-laid plans were upended when my assistant called me at noon. “Mr Stamer, you said to let you know when Samantha Weston called? She's on line three now.”
That strange feeling that had been surfacing every time I thought of my potential daughter came up again, a mixture of excitement and dread. I hated the uncertainty of it, so I could only hope that Samantha was calling to settle things one way or the other.
“Thanks Hayley, I'll take it myself.” She put the call through to me and I answered in a professional monotone. “Samantha, it's Cole.”
She sounded surprised that I had answered, no doubt expecting to speak to one of my staff instead. “Oh. Hi. I was just calling like you said, about the paternity test.”
That seemed to settle one thing: there must actually be a child if she would go this far with it. It also confirmed she must be desperate for the money too. All that remained was to determine if the child was mine.
“When can you come into the city?” I had no idea where she lived, but I would arrange for them to fly in if necessary.
“Actually, we're here now. Me and Madison.”
Madison.My chest tightened at the sound of the name. Samantha and I had talked about using it for our baby if we had a girl. It had actually been my suggestion, and I couldn't believe she'd gone ahead and used it. She truly had no shame, but I tried to focus on the other part of what she’d said, that they were there in the city.
“Are you free today? Can you go to the clinic now?”
“Yes, we're free for a while. We're going to see Santa at Macy's later this afternoon, but we have a few hours before then.”
Once again, my heart constricted at the thought of my little girl, if she really was mine, visiting Santa without me.
“I'll put you back through to Hayley and she'll arrange a car for you. I'll meet you at the clinic.”
I wanted to watch the whole process: the blood draws and the analysis. I wanted to be completely certain that there could be no mistake, no chance that anything had gone wrong or been tampered with.
After transferring her back, I sent a quick text to Gemma to let her know what was happening and that I'd be out of the office for a while. She came back quickly with a message of support.
It will be good to know for sure. Call me if you need to talk, doesn't matter how late. G
Shoving my phone back in my suit pocket, I grabbed my coat and headed downstairs. The private medical clinic was only a couple of blocks away and, thanks to Hayley, they were already expecting me when I got there.
“How long will it take to get the results?” I asked the doctor who ran me through the whole process.
“It's usually about 12 hours for the computer to complete the analysis,” he explained. “We can prioritize it for you so we'll have the results first thing tomorrow morning.”
He drew my blood and showed me how the sample was processed. With that finished, I went back to the waiting room to wait for Samantha to arrive.
Only a few minutes later, she walked in carrying a little girl, bundled up in a winter coat and hat. The doctor took us all directly into the examining room where Samantha removed all the girl's outer layers, revealing a beautiful, miniature version of herself. She had the same dark hair and the same oval-shaped face as her mother; only her eyes were different. Instead of Samantha's blue eyes, the girl's were dark. Like mine? Maybe. It was impossible to say.
Even so, I couldn't take my eyes off her.
Samantha noticed me staring so she walked over to me as the nurses played with the girl, distracting her with bubbles and toys while they drew blood from her hand. “She has a lot of you in her,” Samantha said, trying to sound casual, as if she weren’t trying to sway my opinion.
“What happened to the guy you were with?” I asked, refusing to engage on the topic of Madison until we had the results for certain. “Where is he?”
A storm flashed in her eyes, bitter and deep. “He left and took the rest of the money with him.”
I let out a small huff of disbelief. That explained why she needed more money, and why she had decided to come back to me for it. I couldn't help thinking it served her right, but the girl didn’t deserve it.
“He was always a little resentful that Maddie wasn't his daughter,” Samantha continued, clearly looking for sympathy.
Once again, I didn't respond to that, but my heart hurt even more for the little girl in front of me. Had the other man taken that resentment out on her? Not given her the love that she should have had? I didn't even want to think about it.
When the blood had been taken, I followed the techs back to the lab to watch them input that sample for processing too. The doctor assured me that once that had been done, the results couldn’t be manipulated. We just had to wait for the computer to run the tests, but whatever news he had for me the next day would be the truth.
Samantha was still in the waiting room when I returned, wrapping Madison back up in her winter clothes. She called over one of the nurses to play with Madison again while she walked over to me. “You know, Cole, you could come with us to Macy's if you want to.”
