them, too.”
Graham rolled his chair back and got up. He started to pace and seemed to be losing his cool, so I attempted to calm him down. “They said before noon, right? Well, there’s still a little time.”
He took out his phone. “I’m calling the lab.” He put it on speaker.
A woman answered, “Culver Laboratories?”
“Yes. This is Graham Morgan. I was supposed to be getting a call before noon today with the results of a paternity test your lab conducted for me this week. We’re three minutes away from the deadline. I’d like my results now, please. Arnold Schwartz indicated that he would oversee everything personally to ensure those results would be in by this morning. I have a special reference number he gave me if you need it.”
“Yes, sir. That would be helpful.”
As Graham gave her the information, I said a silent prayer that by some miracle, it turned out he wasn’t the father. I wasn’t sure if that made me a bad person or what. Until those results came in, there was still hope as far as I was concerned. What if there was a third man we didn’t know about…one who was darker like Graham, maybe resembled him? Anything was possible, right?
The clicking of a keyboard could be heard in the background as the woman retrieved the information. “I’m going to put you on hold, Mr. Morgan. It seems that the results are in, but when they indicated that someone would call you to read them, they were apparently basing it on Pacific Time. But I do show here in the system that the test has been completed. I just need to see if we have authorized personnel available to give you those results.”
He whispered under his breath, “Jesus Christ.”
These people on the West Coast had no idea how much was riding on this. If they did, they’d surely hurry the hell up.
Genevieve exhaled and looked over at me. “This is very nerve-wracking.”
I didn’t know why she was making an attempt to talk to me. In any case, I was too worked up to respond. I turned my attention toward Graham. The relaxed demeanor from earlier was like a distant memory. He looked so worried. I think a part of him wanted Chloe to be his while another part was terrified for the opposite scenario, one where a little girl he had imagined as his own was left fatherless.
My insides felt like they were twisting, and I wondered if this was what happened when you truly loved someone, that you could physically feel that person’s fear. His fear was mine. His pain was mine. His life had now merged with my own. I hadn’t told him I loved him, but as I sat there feeling like my entire future depended on the next few minutes, I came to the conclusion that this had to be the real thing.
I loved Graham J. Morgan. Mr. Big Prick. Stuck-up Suit. Celibate in Manhattan. Fifty Shades of Morgan. I loved them all. I loved that he appreciated all of my idiosyncrasies. I loved that he protected me. I loved that he made me feel for the first time in my life like I was the most important person to someone—to him. The thing was, depending on these results, I would no longer be the most important thing. His daughter would and should always come first. That was the way it was supposed to be. That was what Frank Venedetta never understood.
A man’s voice came on the speaker. “Mr. Morgan? Thank you for holding, This is Brad. I’m one of the lab managers. I apologize for the delay. I have your results.”
Graham swallowed hard. “Alright…”
“There is, at least, a 99.9 percent probability that you are a match. These results are conclusive to prove paternity.”
He took his palm to his mouth and let out a long, slow breath into his hand.
The man continued, “We’ll be FedExing your hard copy lab results today. You should receive them tomorrow. Again, I apologize for the delay.”
Genevieve covered her face and started to cry.
“Thank you,” Graham simply said. He hung up the phone and looked straight into my eyes.
Trying to stay composed, I just kept nodding my head over and over in an attempt to convince him and myself that things were going to be alright.
“It’s okay,” I silently mouthed.
Deep down, I was far from sure of that. I knew I loved him. That was all I knew anymore. I just hoped that would be enough.
CHAPTER 20
GRAHAM
GENEVIEVE’S