The Sarantos Baby Bargain

Naomi stared at him, feeling as if she were plummeting into an alternate universe. She’d never heard Andreas talk so much. That was a week’s worth of words in his book.

But it was the words themselves that bewildered her. And that there was an actual expression on his face, in his voice, as he’d said them. As if he was concerned, was trying to ameliorate her shock. Which was the most improbable thing in this whole situation.

“Is there more?” she finally whispered. “I’d rather you hit me over the head with it all at once and get it done with, rather than prolong the ordeal.”

His shrug said he had nothing more to relate. She didn’t believe that. There was more, and he knew it all, but would tell her only what suited him.

But even in what he’d deemed to tell her, there were too many question marks. “So Petros believed he might not live long enough to be Dora’s father, but there was no reason he’d fear for Nadine’s life, too. How could he think of willing you to be Dora’s father when her mother was around?”

“He wanted Dorothea to have more than just her mother. He wanted her to have a family.”

“He didn’t consider me family?”

“He thought it would be too much for you, being all the family Nadine and Dorothea had.”

“I was always all the family Nadine had. And she was all my family, too, as Dora is now. How could he have thought I’d find it too much? What the hell did he think he was doing, deciding what I’m capable of, and making decisions for me?”

Andreas’s gaze grew more serene, as if to counteract her rising agitation, and she wanted to hit him over the head with something. That file, preferably.

“Petros knew his wife, knew how dependent she was on you all your lives, the dependence she only partially transferred to him when they got married. He feared if he died, Nadine would be too destroyed to care for Dorothea properly. He believed she couldn’t bring up a baby alone and would lean on you completely. He also knew you would have let her, would have supported her and Dorothea fully, at the expense of your own life. He didn’t think it fair to you.”

“Did he tell you all that?”

“Yes.”

Naomi pressed trembling hands to her eyes as her voice quavered. “And he considered you the one qualified to carry Nadine’s and Dora’s burden? He thought you were equipped to deal with a bereaved woman and a fatherless baby? That you can become the first’s pillar of strength and the second’s stand-in father? Are you sure it was his heart that had something wrong with it and not his brain?”

“I didn’t argue with him about my eligibility for the role he wanted me to play in the event of his death. I always did, and will always do, whatever he wanted, no questions asked.”

“Are you out of your mind then, thinking you can do what he asked you to do? You’re not equipped to feel anything for anyone, let alone a baby, and a girl at that. And wait a minute! He wanted you to be her father, so she would have a family? How are you supposed to provide her with that?”

“As you pointed out earlier, I wasn’t grown in a lab. I do have a family. A big one.”

“A family you have nothing to do with, and have never been a part of. A family in name, but never in reality. A family you didn’t even inform that you got married and divorced.”

“For Petros’s sake, for his daughter’s, I’m willing to change that.”

Feeling his calm, ready answers singeing her insides with oppression and frustration, she raised both hands, needing to abort this conversation and its possible catastrophic outcomes. “You don’t have to go to the trouble of establishing a relationship with your family to give Dora one. Dora already has a family. Me, Hannah, Hannah’s family, my friends and colleagues. She will grow up surrounded by people who love her, and she certainly doesn’t need someone like you in her life, someone who knows nothing about emotions, nor cares anything about other people, let alone children.”

As her last words rang in the room, he exhaled. “Are you done? I can stand here and listen to you enumerating my fatal flaws as long as you wish.”

“How kind of you. Your every word is just another display of the depth of your insensitivity. But I’m done. And you’re gone. Take that will with you and forget that Petros ever wrote it. Forget all about us.”

“I can’t. And I won’t. Petros was my only friend, and his wishes are sacred to me. I will carry out his last will and testament, Naomi. There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

“Don’t be too sure about that. I don’t care if that will is authentic. I will contest it. I will contest Petros’s mental state at the time he made it. He thought he would die, and the validity of his decisions while under that conviction is questionable. And you can bet I will contest you. Any court would take one look at you and realize you’re not father material. No judge would give you custody of Dora over me.”

“Then you have no idea how family courts work. I am far richer and more powerful than you, than almost anyone. There’s no contest. Any court would give me custody.”

“We’ll just have to see if they’ll consider money and status over the proof of existing emotional bonds and stability and previous healthy relationships.”

“If it comes down to comparing pros and cons, I have what would tip the scale in my favor. Dorothea’s father’s direct endorsement. Do you have any such thing from your sister?”

That had Naomi’s heart stopping for a terrible beat, before it detonated with a gush of dread. They’d never even thought of any provisions for a situation like this.

Even after Nadine was gone in the blink of an eye, Naomi had never thought her claim to Dora would ever be contested, let alone in jeopardy. And for the rival claim to be Andreas’s! It was so preposterous she could almost believe this whole visit was a vivid nightmare.

But she would fight him to her last breath. Not because he would be snatching away the one thing she had to live for, but for Dora herself.

She told him so. “You might be able to trump my claim to Dora, but did you think what you’ll do once she’s yours? You, the ultimate example of emotional dysfunction? Dora would be better off in an orphanage than with you.”

In answer, he bent, swept the file off the table, and calmly put it back into the briefcase. “Again, Naomi, your opinion of me is irrelevant. As far as I am concerned, Dorothea is a Sarantos already. The rest is just formalities. Ones we can conclude with minimum conflict, for Dorothea’s sake. Though she’s very young, I’m sure she’d sense the discord if you turn this into a needless struggle.”

Pivoting, he walked away now that it suited him, leaving destruction in his wake, as he always did.

Before he disappeared from the room that now felt like a battlefield, he drove icicles into her heart. “If you choose to do it the hard way, I’m ready for as long and as costly a battle as it would take. One you’ll end up losing, anyway.”

Four

“There’s no doubt, Ms. Sinclair.”

Naomi stared at the immaculate man, the regret on his face and in his voice making her heart give another painful thud against her ribs, before spiraling into her gut.

“Are you absolutely certain, Mr. Davidson?”

“Positive. Mr. Sarantos’s claim is far stronger. He has a bona fide will from Dorothea’s father, and you have nothing of equal strength in your favor. With his being who he is, no matter what you cite as your superior qualification as a parent or that you are her surrogate mother, his claim will have precedence. The one thing we could do is petition for you to remain a regular presence in the child’s life, but that would also be at Mr. Sarantos’s and the judge’s discretion. Though I have no doubt we would get you generous visitation rights, as I don’t see why Mr. Sarantos would contest them, since there’s no dispute as there would be in a custody case after a divorce.”

A scoff almost escaped Naomi. If only Mr. Davidson knew that with Andreas, anything was a dispute. He shredded his opponents on principle, even if he had nothing to gain by it. She had their divorce as solid proof of how vicious he could be, just because he could.

But her attorney had no idea, because he hadn’t handled her divorce battle with Andreas. His daughter, Amara, had. Amara had been a good friend before becoming an attorney, and Naomi had trusted her to keep the divorce proceedings a total secret. As Andreas’s own attorney had, since there hadn’t been a word about their marriage or its dissolution in any media outlet. Not that she was about to enlighten Mr. Davidson now. At this point she felt any more information might be fuel that would burn any bridges to having Dora in her life at all.

She let out a shaky exhalation. “So in a fight, I don’t stand a chance of keeping Dora?”

“As only her aunt, and with the will you describe, and with Mr. Sarantos’s enormous influence, regretfully, no.”

She’d already more than half known that, was here hoping against hope. Hearing the words still felt like a burning coal sliding down her throat.

Feeling she was pushing the lump of agony back out, she whispered, “Any advice?”

“Just this. Keep this out of court if you possibly can. Your best hope is not to antagonize Mr. Sarantos, but to appeal to him. His goodwill is all you can count on.”

* * *

In an hour’s time, she was staring in the mirror in her building’s elevator.

Her reflection looked worse than what had looked back at her after she’d left Andreas four years ago. Or even after Nadine’s death. Her complexion was mottled, the blue of her eyes was muddy, even the luster in her blond hair was gone. Two people who’d met her on the way from her attorney had been so alarmed they’d both thought she was ill. One had tried to convince her to let him take her to the emergency room.

The ping announcing her floor lurched through her, had her stumbling out of the elevator. At her apartment door, she stopped, her hand clenching the keys until it ached.