her shoulder. A playful gesture, nothing too serious. “Let’s go raid the fridge and find out.”
After all, the relationship layover guy and Victoria Slade didn’t do serious.
And they especially didn’t do it together.
Twenty-five
ON MONDAY, VICTORIA waited until mid-morning to make the call.
Peter Sutter’s stay of execution was officially over.
“Mr. Sutter, hello. This is Victoria Slade from Victoria Slade and Associates, a law firm here in Chicago,” she led in when he answered. “I’d like to speak to you about a matter regarding one of my clients. Do you have a few minutes?”
His tone was upbeat. “Well, that depends. On the off chance this is one of those calls you see in the movies, when you tell me some rich relative I never knew died and left me millions of dollars, then sure—I have all the time you need. But if this is about a legal issue related to the gym, then unfortunately all I can do is provide you with the contact information for XSport Fitness’s corporate legal department.”
“Actually, this is a personal matter that has nothing to do with the gym. I represent a woman named Nicole Dixon, who I believe you met fourteen months ago at a bar called Public House.” Victoria deliberately paused, waiting to see if he had any reaction to that.
He spoke after a moment’s hesitation. “Um, what did you say this was about?”
Actually, she hadn’t said. But she saw no point in beating around the bush. “Ms. Dixon had a child five months ago—nine months after the two of you met—and she believes you are the father. I’m calling to make arrangements for you to take a paternity test—something I hope we can handle discreetly and without need for court intervention. If that’s not the case, then I’ll have no choice but to serve you with a subpoena either at home or at work.”
“Oh my God.” He exhaled raggedly. “No, please, don’t send anything about this to my home. Look, uh, I’m swamped at work this morning, but is there somewhere we can meet to talk about this? Maybe around noon?”
She thought about giving him her office address, but decided a less formal location could work better. “There’s an Intelligentsia Coffee bar on Broadway and Belmont.”
“I know the place. I’ll be there at noon.”
“You’re obviously welcome to bring an attorney, Mr. Sutter.”
“An attorney? I don’t have— Oh, my God, I can’t believe this is happening. I’ll see you there at noon.”
Victoria hung up the phone, thinking that the man who’d cheated on his soon-to-be wife and who’d also left without a good-bye after sleeping with her client sounded quite frazzled.
Good.
* * *
“MR. SUTTER?” SHE held out her hand. “Victoria Slade.”
Peter Sutter shook her hand, staring in surprise as she took the seat across from him. He’d arrived before her and had chosen, wisely, a table in the back of the coffee shop where they could speak privately.
“I know you,” he said. “You came to my open house last week, with the tall guy. You talked to me and my wife.”
Victoria had anticipated this reaction and had decided that the best defense was a good offense. “Since you ran out on my client without providing her with any way to reach you, we needed to get a little creative in confirming that you were, in fact, the right Peter Sutter.”
“Oh.” He ran his hands over his face. “This is— I don’t know what to say.”
He was a good-looking guy, a fact that was emphasized by the fitted red XSport Fitness T-shirt and black athletic pants that showed off his toned physique. In light of the circumstances, the cynical divorce lawyer in Victoria assumed it was highly possible that Nicole Dixon was one of many women Peter Sutter had picked up at a bar over the last several years.
Which was why she was surprised by what he said next.
“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about that night with Nicole. I feel horrible that I left like that. I had no idea she was pregnant.” He paused. “Is she, um, sure the baby is mine?”
“Yes. But we’ll do a paternity test to confirm that before my client and I file a petition for child support.”
“Child support.” He took another deep breath. “My wife . . . Well, you were there, you know that she’s pregnant. I don’t know how to tell her about this.” He looked shell-shocked. “Melanie doesn’t know anything about Nicole.”
“Yes, I gathered that,” Victoria said dryly.
He cocked his head. “Wait—you think