“The breakfast here is terrible.” Bridget grimaced as she glanced at the selection the hotel’s buffet offered. “It’s eggs and sausage and bacon, and everything is swimming in oil.”

Turner paused in front of the scrambled eggs, his plate already half loaded. “We can go somewhere else.”

Bridget waved a hand. “I’ll just get a coffee and a muffin.”

“Are you sure?”

“I need my morning caffeine.”

“As you wish.” He was hungry and not as finicky as Bridget. As someone who had survived on mess hall food and army rations, he could eat anything. On second thoughts, though, the scrambled eggs indeed looked oily. He moved over to the omelets and scooped one onto his plate.

His phone rang as they were about to sit down.

The private one.

“It’s probably Douglas.”

“A premonition?” Bridget asked.

He shook his head. Deducing the identity of the caller had nothing to do with the paranormal. No one other than his son, Bridget, Alice, and Roni had his private number. Alice was on vacation, and Roni knew he was out of town. Besides, the only reason the kid ever called was to reschedule their training sessions.

To his surprise, however, it wasn’t Douglas. It was an unknown caller. “Yes?”

“It’s Nancy. I got your number from Douglas.”

“What can I do for you, Nancy?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.”

“Not over the phone. What I need to say has to be done face to face. Please, it will not take long. I can come over to your hotel and we can have coffee in the lobby.”

Unease crept up Turner’s spine. What could Nancy want that couldn’t be discussed over the phone?

Across from him, he saw Bridget frown.

“When?”

“I can be there in half an hour.”

“Bridget and I are having breakfast. You can join us.”

There was a moment of silence. “I need to talk to you alone. I’ll come in an hour, after you’re done with breakfast.”

“I’ll meet you in the lobby at eleven sharp.”

“Okay.”

“Do you know what Nancy wants to talk to you about?” Bridget asked.

Naturally, she’d heard every word.

“She didn’t say. I hope she doesn't plan on lecturing me about dating a much younger woman.”

Bridget chuckled. “If she only knew the truth. Perhaps it has to do with who pays what for the newlyweds’ house.”

“Could be. I wish they would just say thanks once and drop the subject. They make me uncomfortable with all their arguing. I know, and they know that it’s just posturing and that they are going to accept the gift.”

Putting her coffee cup down, Bridget patted his hand. “They are trying to save face. Let them.”

Turner took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m glad you came. You make everything easier.”

“You’re so sweet.”

“I’m truthful.”

“I know.” She smiled. “That’s what makes it sweet.”

“Are you okay with me meeting Nancy alone?”

She arched a brow. “Are you asking me if I’m jealous of your ex?”

“You have a jealous streak. We’ve established that already.”

“I do. But not in this case, I just wish I could be there for you.”

That was an odd thing to say.

Did Bridget expect Nancy to deliver bad news?

Turner looked into her eyes, checking her pupils for dilation. She had her super hearing; he had his ways of discerning the truth. “Do you know something you’re not telling me?”

She shook her head. “Whatever it is Nancy wants to talk to you about must be important. She didn’t ask to meet you alone to discuss the weather.”

Bridget’s pupils had dilated a little. She knew something or suspected something, but she either didn’t want to steal Nancy’s thunder or didn’t want to speculate.

Pushing his chair back, Turner took the napkin off his lap and put it on the table. “What do you want to do in the meantime? Do you want to go up to the room, or do you want to go for a walk?”

“I’ll go to the room. Otherwise, I’ll be too tempted to eavesdrop from a safe distance.”

“Right. I’ll escort you.” He got up.

Bridget rose to her feet and stretched to kiss his cheek. “I know the way. Stay.”

As if it had anything to do with anything. He was a gentleman. “I’ll walk you to the elevators.”

“Okay.”

As Turner watched Bridget enter the elevator, she smiled at him, but he caught the smile slipping off her face a moment before the doors closed all the way.

Bridget was worried, and it was stressing him out.

With her super hearing, she might’ve overheard something at the rehearsal dinner. Or perhaps she’d picked up some clues with her other enhanced senses.

However, speculating was pointless when he had no clues to go on. Besides, he was going to find out soon enough what it was all about.

The most likely suspect was the damn house. He should have said nothing and just bought the thing. It would have prevented all the fuss.

Scanning the lobby for a private place to have a talk, he walked over to the bar area and sat down at the furthest table out of the four.

It would do just fine.

That early, the place was practically deserted, with only two guys sitting at the bar and none of the tables occupied.

Turner ordered another coffee and waited.

When he saw Nancy come in through the main entry, he got up and waved.

A tight smile on her thin face, she waved back and walked over. “Thank you for agreeing to see me.”

“Sure thing. Please, take a seat.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Would you like some coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

He motioned for the waiter and ordered.

“Are you excited about the wedding?” he asked when the silence between them had stretched uncomfortably.

“Yes. It’s going to be beautiful. Melanie did a great job organizing everything. The only task she assigned to me was ordering the invitations, but there was no time to order, so I had to print them myself.”

“You made them? They looked so professional.” Vaguely, he remembered that Nancy was into arts and crafts.

Her smile was genuine this time. “Thank you. It was an emergency project. But you know how I enjoy making things like that.”

“I do.”

When her coffee arrived, Nancy stirred in a packet of artificial sweetener and a bit of cream, took a sip, sighed, and put the cup down.

“This is so hard.” She sighed again.

Turner didn’t respond.

Looking down at her hands, she started, “I just want you to know that I didn’t deceive you intentionally. In the beginning, I really didn’t know. And later when I started to suspect, I didn’t have the heart to tell you. But now with all that house business, I feel so guilty. You deserve to know the truth.”

Turner’s gut twisted. On a subconscious level, he’d known what she was about to confess, but he had chosen to ignore his suspicions.

It seemed that the time of reckoning had arrived.

“Douglas is not mine,” he stated.

She lifted a pair of wide eyes at him. “You knew?”

“I suspected.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What was there to say? Douglas doesn’t know, right?”

She shook her head. “No, and I don’t plan to ever tell him unless, God forbid, he needs a kidney transplant or something like that.”

“That’s what I thought. Douglas thinks of me as his biological father and of Peter as his dad. There is no reason to shake up his world.”

She nodded. “When I found out I was pregnant, I panicked. How was I supposed to support myself and a child and finish college? Then there was the question of who would sign the birth certificate. There were two potential fathers; you and the guy I dated right after. I called you both.”

She smiled a sad smile. “The other guy brushed me off. You didn’t. So I just convinced myself that it was you and went with it. For years, I held on to that belief, but when Douglas reached puberty and started to look exactly like the other guy, I had no choice but to acknowledge the truth.”

“I understand.”

“You do? Really? You’re not angry?”

Turner smoothed his hand over the back of his head. Was he?

Nancy hadn’t set out to deceive him. And in a way she’d given him a gift. Having a son, even one he hadn’t raised and hadn’t been close to, had added meaning to his life.

One thing Turner was sure of. The only reason he wasn’t devastated by the news was that he had Bridget in his life. Without her, he would’ve felt completely alone in the world.

“I’m not angry. Disappointed, yes. But that being said, I’m glad you came to me when you needed a father for your child. Perception often means more than reality, and for all intents and purposes you’ve given me my only son.”

Nancy let out a long breath and leaned back in her chair. “You have no idea how much lighter I feel having this thing lifted off my chest. You’re a great guy, Victor. I don’t know anyone who would have taken the news as calmly as you did. And as to the house, Peter and I will come up with the down payment. Douglas and Melanie can do monthly mortgage payments just like everyone else.”

“Nothing has changed, Nancy, I’m still buying them a house. As I said before, for all intents and purposes, Douglas is my son, and I’m going to keep taking care of him and my future grandkids for as long as I can.”