One Night Stand novel · Chapter 2 of 24

Chapter 2: Nine O'Clock

At the lawyer's office Mateo is cold, a swab is taken, and a stumble on the stairs gives them their first touch; Preston arrives warm and offers to handle the press. Mateo says he is coming to the house tonight.

The clip had four hundred thousand views by morning.

In it, I was a woman in a green lanyard shouting at a billionaire.

Under it, strangers had written things.

I put the phone face down on Dottie's counter and ate half a piece of toast.

"You don't have to go," Dottie said. She was buttoning Otto into his dinosaur pajamas, though he was awake and dressed already. "I can have a very rude word with that man for you."

"I'm going."

"Then wear the good boots."

I wore the good boots.

The lawyer's office was on the thirty-first floor of a building two blocks from the tower, and there were eleven reporters on the pavement outside it.

I walked through them with my head down.

"Ms. Hanley, are you selling a story?"

"Ms. Hanley, did you know him before the opening?"

A girl with a microphone stepped in front of me.

"Is it true your son is his?"

I stopped.

"My son is three," I said. "He hasn't done anything to you. Leave him out of your questions."

Then I went in through the revolving door.

Upstairs, a woman in a gray suit took me to a glass conference room with a long table and four chairs.

Mateo was already at the far end.

He stood when I came in, and then seemed to wish he hadn't.

He looked like he had not slept. His collar was open and his tie was folded on the table beside his phone.

"Ms. Hanley," he said.

"Mr. Kincaid."

"Sit."

I sat.

His lawyer slid two pieces of paper toward me.

"This authorizes a cheek swab for Otto, collected at your home by an independent technician, and one for you," she said. "Mr. Kincaid has already given his. Results in forty-eight hours."

"Why forty-eight hours?"

"Because the lab is not run by Mr. Kincaid."

I read the paper twice and signed it.

Mateo watched my hand move.

"You write with your left," he said.

"So does Otto."

He looked away, and a muscle in his jaw jumped.

"I want to see him," he said.

"After the swab."

"Today."

"After the swab, Mr. Kincaid. If it's you, you'll have all the time you want. If it isn't, I don't want you anywhere near him."

His lawyer began to say something. Mateo lifted two fingers and she stopped.

"Fine," he said. "Show me where to sign."

The technician came in with a sealed kit and swabbed the inside of my cheek.

It was quick and it was awful, and Mateo watched the whole thing without blinking.

When it was done, I stood too fast.

I had not eaten enough, and the room slid.

His hand was under my elbow before I found the table.

It was a warm hand, and a large one, and it knew where it was going.

I had felt it once on the back of my neck in a dark corner, with music going through the floor.

I stood very still.

He did not let go.

"You're pale," he said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

His thumb moved once against the inside of my arm. I do not think he knew it had.

Then he took his hand away and put it in his pocket.

"Eat something," he said, to the table.

The door opened behind us, and a voice said, "Is this the right room? Everyone's been so mysterious."

Preston walked in with a paper coffee in each hand.

"Cal!" He set one down in front of me. "May I call you that? I brought you something hot. I saw the press out front and I nearly hit someone."

"Thank you," I said, and meant it.

"You didn't deserve yesterday." He turned to Mateo. "She didn't."

"Preston," Mateo said.

"I'm saying the family should look after her. If you'll let me, I'll have my people clear the pavement and put out a line. You've got enough on your plate." He smiled at me again. "You've been very brave."

"I wasn't brave. I was standing in the wrong place."

Preston laughed and patted my arm.

Mateo said nothing.

He was looking at the coffee Preston had brought me, and then at Preston, and then at nothing.

"I'll handle the press myself," he said at last.

"Of course."

"I mean it."

"Of course you do." Preston squeezed his shoulder and went out.

The lawyer collected her papers.

I picked up my bag and my coffee and walked to the elevator, and Mateo came after me.

He stood beside me, watching the numbers.

"Technician comes at noon," he said. "Your landlady's rowhouse. I have the address."

"How do you have the address?"

"I have a great many addresses." The doors opened. "I'm not going to wait two days to see him, Ms. Hanley."

"Callie."

"Callie." He said it slowly, once. "I'm coming tonight."

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