Leticia waited until around ten o’clock to call Carter. She figured that since he was a morning person he might be up earlier, but she didn’t know for certain. The way that he always talked about having an early morning on Saturday, he might have some kind of class or family thing that he wasn’t back from yet.

Besides, she’d been raised by parents who taught her that you didn’t call anyone after nine o’clock at night or before nine o’clock in the morning. That rule had definitely become lax over the years when it came to her friends. With Sharon, that rule didn’t even exist. They’d called each other at all hours of the day—hell, when Sharon was leaving Ross’s place after that first night they were together, she’d called Leticia at two in the morning.

Luckily Leticia had been out at a club at the time and partying hard, but still.

She hadn’t been to any clubs since dating Carter, actually. She hadn’t needed to. Why would she when she was already tired after spending a full night with him on Fridays? Then, on Saturdays, she was usually with one of her friends instead, like out at a bar with Jonas or over helping Sharon make dinner. And why go out on a Sunday night when she had work early Monday morning? That was a mistake she’d made her first year out of college and not one she was going to repeat.

But it scared her all over again—how much her schedule had changed because of Carter and how she hadn’t even realized it until now. It made her wonder what other ways she might have come to depend on him, ways she wouldn’t notice until it was too late and she was too far gone.

That nervousness was probably why she’d gotten up at eight o’clock and then spent two hours trying desperately to distract herself while waiting for an appropriate time to call him.

She’d run the laundry, vacuumed, done the dishes, and watched a bunch of HGTV. She was convinced that the couples hunting for houses were all just a little bit insane, yet the shows were strangely addicting.

Then ten o’clock had come. No more excuses.

Leticia steeled herself and dialed Carter’s number. She’d had it in her phone for ages, but she’d had little reason to use it other than the occasional text during work. Those texts had often made her smile, especially when one of them was stuck in a meeting. This was the first time she’d actually called him.

The phone rang a couple of times and was then picked up—but not by Carter.

“Hello?”

The speaker was a girl. A very young girl, judging by the voice.

“Hi, who is this?” Leticia asked. Maybe Carter had lost his phone or something?

“I’m Molly,” answered the girl. “Who are you?”

“I’m—my name is Leticia. Is Carter around?” Leticia was scrambling for answers. Who was this girl? Why did she have Carter’s phone? Did he have family in town—a niece or something—and he’d failed to mention it?

Or, maybe he hadn’t wanted to mention it, the traitorous part of her brain supplied.

“Oh, yeah, Daddy’s in the shower,” Molly replied.

Leticia felt like her stomach had suddenly disappeared.

“He’s—what?”

“Daddy’s in the shower,” Molly repeated. “Sorry about that. Would you like me to take a message?”

“No, it’s okay,” Leticia said. She had to sit down, right now. She did so, collapsing onto her couch again. What the hell? “I’m his boss, from work at the museum—”

Molly interrupted before Leticia could continue. “Oh, right! You work with him now! I remember he told me that his boss was a woman. I think that’s really great, you’re in charge of an entire museum. Do you like it?”

Leticia swallowed hard. “Um, yeah. I like it a lot.”

“I love art,” Molly said. “Daddy’s taught me all about it. I mean, not all about it, I don’t know everything, but a lot. I love it. I do art, too. What’s your favorite painting?”

Leticia definitely could not handle this at the moment. Not while it felt like her entire world was off-kilter and spinning. “That’s hard to say. Listen, Molly, I hate to cut our conversation short, but I have to go, okay?”

“Oh, but I can just talk to you until Daddy gets out,” Molly replied. “He’ll be finished soon.”

She definitely couldn’t talk to Carter about this right now. Hell no. She might throw up if she had to have this conversation—and over the phone, of all things. It was better than, say, discussing it over email, but still. She wasn’t going to talk about something like this when she couldn’t see Carter’s face or when he could easily hang up on her if he got pissed off.

“I wish I could,” she replied, “But I’ve got a meeting.”

“On a Saturday?” Molly asked. “That’s not fair. Weekends are for fun things. You should be out having fun.”

Leticia smiled a little in spite of herself. “Yeah, kid, that’s always been my philosophy. But I really do have to go, so how about you just have a good day for me, okay?”

“Do you want me to tell Daddy anything for you? Preserving art is very important.”

That was…kind of adorable of her to say. Molly sounded incredibly solemn about it. She sounded the way Leticia felt inside when she talked about taking care of art and making sure it was properly preserved.

“No, it was just a little thing. I shouldn’t have bothered him.” Leticia found herself seriously starting to feel sick. Her throat felt tight and her eyes itched—crap. “Have a good day.”

“You too, Leticia!” Molly replied brightly.

Leticia ended the call and stared at the phone in her hand.

What the hell, what the hell, what the hell?

Carter had a child?

An older child, too. Not a baby or a toddler. A child who was old enough to talk a bit about art and hold an intelligent conversation and answer the phone on her own. At least five. Maybe even as old as nine? Leticia wasn’t good at gaging the age of kids, especially when she couldn’t see what they looked like. Little hellions refused to grow uniformly, so she’d see a twelve-year-old that looked like a seven-year-old and then a five-year-old that looked like an eight-year-old.

As if kids weren’t confusing enough already.

Leticia wondered if she should call Sharon and tell her about this. But hadn’t she bothered her friend enough? Sharon was her best friend, sure, but Sharon was pregnant and trying to hand over the reins for maternity leave and she had a husband whose work schedule was erratic at best. She didn’t deserve to listen to Leticia’s third freak-out in a row.

No. Obviously this was why Carter had become distant last night. It hadn’t been while they were talking about Olivia, his wife. It had been while they were talking about kids, afterwards. When Leticia had said that she didn’t want to have kids and she’d never been very good with them. That had been when Carter had shut down on her. He’d started writing her off, she realized. He’d put the brakes on the idea of ‘them’.

He was probably already thinking of ways to ease himself out of the relationship, Leticia thought bitterly. Cut and run, so to speak.

But could she blame him? She’d said that she didn’t like children. She hadn’t been coy about that. Leticia could only cover her face and groan. God, she felt sick. She must have sounded like a complete asshole last night.

At least she hadn’t said that she hated kids. And she didn’t. Hate kids, that is. But she’d said that she didn’t want any and that she wasn’t any good with them—and that was just as bad as hating them, wasn’t it? At least in the eyes of a parent?

But on the other hand—why hadn’t Carter told her right away that he had a kid? Wasn’t that the first thing that parents did, tell you all about their children? Okay, so fair enough, he wouldn’t mention it when he was at a club and they were clearly about to have sex. That wasn’t really a good opportunity to get to know one another.

As his boss, though, as coworkers, surely he would have said something. Why hadn’t he? Didn’t he want to talk about his daughter? Or had Leticia had a huge neon I hate kids sign over her head this entire time and he’d suspected as much and so he hadn’t said anything?

Damn, she was talking herself in circles. She just needed to be distracted. She needed—she needed something.

She needed to go out and dance to the bang bang slide of the club bass.

Carter obviously wasn’t going to continue this relationship. He’d already started pulling away last night, and Leticia couldn’t expect him to continue to date someone when he had a kid at home. Hell, he plainly hadn’t trusted her with the knowledge of his daughter even before she’d said that she wasn’t good with kids.

She should cut her losses while she could. Carter was going to move on—well, so could she. They could just be friendly coworkers, nothing more. And all of that would start with her. She could be the big girl here. She could step away and let him know that it was okay, that he didn’t owe her anything.

He didn’t want to owe her anything, if he hadn’t told her about his daughter. If he’d thought this relationship was serious in any way, then he would have told her about Molly. But he hadn’t. So…

Clearly Leticia had been the one who’d gotten in over her head, here.

That hurt. It hurt more than she expected it to. God, no wonder Jonas was so cranky after a break-up.

But, as previously stated, she was a big girl. She could handle this.

First, ice cream. And tonight?

She was hitting the clubs like there was no tomorrow.