Chapter 40 Forty

Chapter 40 Forty
Sydney
“Slip of the tongue,” I smiled, sliding into the booth across her. “I’m still not used to being a mum yet.”
“Uh huh,” she sat down, her eyes never leaving my face. “I’m just going to pretend like it’s not crazy.”
I was about to say something when a waiter walked towards us. He was young with jet black hair and a nice smile. “Can I get you ladies started with drinks?”
“Yes!” Celine turned to him, flashing him a huge smile. “We need wine. A bottle of your best Pinot Noir.” She glanced at me. “You know what? Make it two bottles.”
I shot her a look. “Celine…”
“Yeah?” She grinned. “You deserve it. It’s been a long day.”
He smiled at her. “On it.”
He walked away and I picked up the menu glancing through it. A part of me hoped that Eric was actually taking care of Miles. Well, he had better. That was his son.
“I still find it interesting…”
I looked up to see her staring at me.
“What?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
She shook her head. “That you’ve become so cold hearted.” She shrugged like she hadn’t said something that could easily have been considered an insult.
“Girl, six months ago, I could have sworn that you’d have been with the child, fussing over him and now?” she gestured at me as the waiter returned with the wine.
He poured some into our glasses and took our orders. She asked for a Caesar salad and I just asked for grilled salmon. He nodded and disappeared again.
I reached for my wine glass, taking a long gulp.
“As I was saying,” Celine turned to me, grabbing her wine glass. “It’s just impressive that you left your husband alone with a toddler.”
My chest tightened as I dropped the glass. “Celine, I told you.” My voice dropped. “I found out Eric was using me. That changes things.”
“Yeah. I understand” she reached to squeeze my hand for a split second before pulling her hand away, narrowing her eyes. “Althoughhhhh… I have another theory.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What?”
She grinned. “Bryce Westin”
I coughed up the wine, almost knocking over the wine glass. “What?”
“Bryce Westin,” She repeated, the smile still on her face. “We both know he’s hot and you’re looking…flustered.”
“I am not flustered!” I swallowed. “I…”
“Please, Sydney!” She waved me off, her smile widening. “I’ve known you for years. I can read you like a magazine.” She leaned forward, her voice dropping even though my eyes had grown wide in horror. “I think you like him. Maybe you’re even sleeping with him, which honestly, is fine by me. Eric deserves worse than cheating.”
I blinked, struggling to breathe, feeling hot all of a sudden. “Sleeping with him?”
“Uh huh.” She leaned back. “I think you finally met someone who makes you feel special and you realize that Eric was such a waste of your time.”
I felt heat in my cheeks, my mind flitting back to the hotel room at the Hamptons. I could still feel his hands in my hair, his mouth on mine, and how he had looked at me.
We hadn’t spoken since then and he hadn’t reached out. Contrary to what Celine thought, it probably didn’t mean anything.
“I’m not in love with Bryce Westin, Celine.” I sighed, hating how defensive I sounded. “We’re business partners. That’s all.”
“Uh huh. Sure.” She tilted her head. “That’s why you’re blushing like a potato.”
“I am not…”
“You absolutely are.” She grinned, taking another sip of wine, her eyes glittering.
I wanted to tell her it wasn’t Bryce. That I had died in a car accident and then gotten reborn somehow and still knew about the betrayal and all of Eric’s schemes. But I couldn’t tell her that.
I would sound completely insane. She would think I was delusional. Sighing, I reached for my bag and pulled out the folder I’d thrown in before leaving the house.
She raised an eyebrow at me as I slid it across the table to her.
“What’s this?” She took a bite of her salad, her smile fading.
I nodded at her. “Open it.”
Frowning, she flipped it open. Inside it was a copy of Miles’s adoption paperwork including the pathetic background information that Ms. Darlington had given me. Celine scanned the pages, her eyebrows furrowing.
“St Patricia’s Home for Children.” She read aloud, taking another bite of her salad. “Director is Jenny Darlington.” She looked up. “Is this the orphanage?”
“Yes.” I nodded, chewing my salmon. “And before you ask, no. I don’t think it’s a real orphanage. And even if it was real, I don’t think it’s legitimate.”
She frowned. “Why?”
“Because the building was wrong! It was all staged.” I leaned forward, holding her gaze. “Celine, I didn’t see any other child in that place. Not one! Just Miles and for a building that was supposed to house dozens of children, there was no single sound of children. No toys, no playground, nothing!”
Her frown deepened. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, and it gets weirder. The paperwork moved ridiculously fast. We took Miles home today with no mention of home visits or whatever. Nothing. That’s sooo not how adoption works.”
She took her head, speaking slowly. “No. It’s not.”She straightened. “And you think St Patricia is a front? That Eric is trying to use it to legitimize the adoption somehow?”
“Exactly. I just need help proving it.”
She nodded, flipping through the papers again. “And….?”
“And I want you to help me because you mentioned you were seeing someone.”
She looked up immediately, her eyes narrowing.