Underfoot

SINCE WALKER HADN’T STOPPED since five that morning, he could only squeeze in a cell call to Trina’s voice mail with the message that he would drop by to talk with her after a lunch meeting.

Finding the PR receptionist reading a celebrity gossip magazine at her desk, he cleared his throat. No response. “Is Trina Roberts around?”

Dora glanced up at him blankly, then pulled an earpiece out of her ear and smiled. “Sorry. The local radio is running a contest for a cruise and I thought I’d give it a try. Sounds sweet, doesn’t it?” she asked and gave him a wanna-come-with-me look.

“Yeah, sweet. I was looking for Trina.”

The assistant’s face fell. “Oh, she took a late lunch. I think she said something about visiting her baby.”

Walker blinked. “Baby?” he echoed, surprised. No, shock was a more accurate description.

The assistant nodded. “Yeah. You didn’t know? I’m surprised because you know she’s still carrying a little baby weight and she’s got terrible circles under her eyes. Hello? A little concealer goes a long way.” She sighed and shrugged. “But I guess she’s overwhelmed being a single mom. Lord knows I’d never do that.”

Baby? Single mother? Walker tried to digest the information. He just didn’t see Trina as the motherly type. He remembered her as a mix of warm but sophisticated, sharp and together. “When did, uh—”

“Oh, Maddie’s six months old. And she is cute as a button. For a baby. But, you know, she’s still a baby and they cry and poop and are really demanding.” The assistant turned around in her chair and glanced out the window. “Oh, look, Trina’s taking her for a stroll. I guess you could catch up to her if you really want. Or I could get you a cappuccino and keep you company.”

“Thanks for the offer,” he said. “But I’m running short on time. I’ll head outside.”

The assistant pouted. “Okay, but make time for a little break next time you come around.”

“Have a good day,” he said and walked toward the elevator. The assistant was clearly making an offer. If she weren’t working for Bellagio, then he might take her up on it. Walker was unopposed to hot, uncomplicated sex, but after his relationship with Brooke had muddied the waters with Bellagio, he figured he’d better stay away from the Bellagio honeys at least until he was on firmer ground.

He took the elevator down to ground level and walked to the side of the building where he saw Trina pushing a stroller. With the sun shining brightly, the temperature in the midseventies and a slight breeze rustling through the trees, he supposed it was a good day to take a baby for a stroll. Not that he would ever have to do that kind of thing.

“Hey, Trina,” he called as he caught up to her. “Trina,” he said again when she didn’t respond.

She came to a dead stop and turned to look at him. Her face drained of color. “Walker?”

He stared at her. “Hey, I didn’t mean to startle you. The assistant told me you were out here.”

Her eyes wide with fear, she gave a little nod. “Dora.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, Dora. She told me you had a baby. How come you didn’t tell me?” he asked, looking curiously at the stroller. His gaze landed on an infant with a blue barrette holding a wisp of carrot-colored hair in a topknot that stood straight up. She made singsong noises and moved her head from side to side. He smiled. “She’s cute.”

“Um, thanks,” Trina said and bit her lip.

She was giving off a very weird vibe, he thought and frowned. “Are you okay?”

She took a deep breath and seemed to be trying to collect herself. “I had hoped to do this differently,” she said. Meeting his gaze, she gave a choky kind of laugh. “Actually, I had hoped to never have to tell you.”

“Tell me what? That you had a baby? I’m surprised, but other people do it all the time.”

She took another breath, looked away and then met his gaze again. “Maddie is yours,” she said.

Walker stared at Trina. The distant sounds of car horns blowing and engines humming along with the baby’s babbles through the periphery of his brain. He couldn’t have heard Trina correctly. “Excuse me?”

“I said Maddie is yours. You are her father.” She looked at him silently. “Do the math. She was born nine months after that night you and I…”

He swore. “You think I got you pregnant that one night we had sex?”

“I know you did. I have the evidence.”

Walker shook his head, wondering why she was trying to pin the pregnancy on him. Did she need money or something? “I’m sorry if you think it’s me. But it can’t be,” he told her.

“Yes, it can and it is,” Trina said, exasperation creeping into her tone. “But don’t worry. I don’t expect anything from you. That’s why I didn’t tell you when you were in Paris.”

His circuits scrambled like eggs, he shook his head. “Listen, I’m sorry, Trina, but it can’t be me. I’ll tell you why. I had a vasectomy.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

I HAD A VASECTOMY.

Trina had a mental car crash. “Vasectomy,” she repeated. “When? How?”

He nodded. “A couple of months before the wedding. Brooke and I had agreed that we didn’t want children. How?” He gave a wry grin. “The usual way. Snip. Snip.”

He jammed his hands into his pockets while she tried to digest the news.

“So you see it couldn’t be me,” he said.

Exactly, she agreed. Except it couldn’t be anyone else unless she’d gotten pregnant by immaculate conception, and Trina had heard of only one woman who’d done that.

The problem was that she hadn’t had sex with anyone in months because she’d been working double time on the reality show project for Bellagio.

“I don’t know who else you were involved with at the time,” he ventured.

No one. She glanced at Walker and felt an odd surge of feelings. Loss. She felt a sense of loss. Crazy. Even though she’d known he wouldn’t want a child, she’d hoped that just seeing Maddie would make him at least give it a second’s consideration.

She saw the flat-out determination on his face that Maddie wasn’t his. Trina had envisioned a variety of responses from Walker, but never this.

“I—uh—I don’t know what to say,” Walker said.