Her office door sailed open. Devon breezed in. “Hey.” She grinned, her teeth bright within the frame of her red lips. “Stopped by to see if Vivi Syndrome wore off yet.”
“That woman is the least of my problems.” Allison couldn’t meet her eyes.
Gaze narrowing shrewdly, Devon shut the door. “I noticed you and Logan left pretty quick.”
Allison nodded, said nothing.
“Are you okay? You look like hell warmed over.”
“Thanks.” Allison gave a hollow laugh. “About how I feel.”
“That bad?”
Tension tightened at her temples. She tried to respond, but the words stuck in her throat.
Devon’s back straightened with take-charge ambition. “I see a two-martini lunch in our near future.” She glanced at her watch. “Make that happy-hour. It’s almost five-o’clock. Somewhere.”
“I wish.” Defeat clung to Allison.
Devon gave a decisive nod. “I’ll make the reservation immediately.”
“Don’t.” Allison stopped her. “I can’t.”
“Oh, please.” Devon rolled her eyes. “Logan’s not a slave driver. You can play hookie for one afternoon.”
Allison shook her head wearily. “I mean, I can’t drink. And I’d be the worst company.”
“Drowning your sorrows at the bottom of a bottle is a perfectly fine coping mechanism. I highly recommend it.”
Allison fixed her stare on her desk. “Not for the next nine months of my life.”
“What do you mean, the next nine—” Devon froze to the spot. “Don’t tell me you’re…”
“Yep. Pregnant. Yes, it’s Logan’s. Isn’t that wonderful?” Allison burst into tears.
“Oh, honey.” Compassion gentled Devon’s voice.
A strangely comfortable silence passed between them. No judgment, no pity, no questions. Just quiet companionship. Allison’s gratefulness caused more tears to well up and spill down her cheeks. Her eyes ached. Her throat was raw. The tears kept coming.
Devon picked up the nearby box of Kleenex handed her a tissue. Allison wiped her dripping chin, feeling pathetic but surprisingly relieved. Like the sticky mess inside her had been scraped away and life became a little cleaner, a little clearer.
Devon asked softly, “Does Logan know?”
“No.” Allison blew her noise. “Not yet.”
A wry note accompanied Devon’s tone. “I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”
“Me, too. Then I wouldn’t have to be in my own skin. An out-of-body experience sounds like paradise compared to standing there, defenseless and alone, waiting for his reaction.”
“First of all, you’re not alone. Let’s clear that up right off the bat. Second—”
“I’ve always been alone.”
“Second,” Devon repeated firmly, “as far as defenses go, Logan’s not the type to lose it when things really count. Sure, he’ll rant and rave up a storm if someone’s made a stupid mistake that cost him a deal. But that’s business. When it comes to friends and family, he’s the guy you want on your team.”
“I’m not a friend or family.”
“You are now.” Devon slid a meaningful glance to her abdomen.
“What if I don’t want a family? What if I’m not ready for any of this?”
“Buckle your seatbelt, sister. This ride’s already started.”
Allison’s chin trembled. Devon handed her another tissue. “I’m not Logan’s problem.”
Devon considered her. “Logan would sooner kick a wounded puppy as throw his pregnant girlfriend out on the streets. It’s not in him. He doesn’t abandon or reject the people who need him. If anything, his weakness is getting too involved, caring too much.”
“I’m not his girlfriend.” Resentful frustration grated on her. “He owes me nothing.” Defiance straightened her spine. “Maybe I don’t want anything from him. Maybe it’s better if I walk away.”
Devon snorted. “Yeah, like he’d let that happen.”
A glimmer of hope rekindled in Allison. “If he doesn’t want this baby, I can still move to France.”
Devon blinked at Allison’s sudden change of heart. “What’s in France?”
“The life that’s been waiting for me for four years.”
“You, you mean…” Devon stumbled over her words. “You have someone there?”
Allison shook her head at Devon’s misunderstanding. “Someone who’s not there.”
“Enlighten me.”
“That’s a long, ugly story.”
“I just cleared my schedule.
Allison gave a short sigh. “It’s not safe for me to stay in the States.”
“Logan’s good at keeping people safe. Have you noticed where we work?”
“I promised myself I’d never give a man control over my life again.” Warmth and color returned to her insides. She stated decisively, “I’ll raise the baby in France by myself.”
“Heads up, honey. Logan won’t go for that, not for a minute. He takes care of his own.”
Allison crossed her arms. “I can take care of myself.”
“Not if you or your unborn child is in danger.” Devon’s lips pressed together in a moment of thought. “We may not be maid-of-honor best friends, but I know this isn’t you. Why are you scared?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Allison said coolly, gathering familiar defenses around her like old allies.
Bewilderment stamped Devon’s face. “You’d deny Logan’s rights as the father of this baby just to get out of Dodge?”
“You don’t know my ex-husband,” Allison said darkly. “If he ever learned I was pregnant, with another man’s child…” She shuddered to her bones. “France is my best—my only—option.”
Devon slapped her hands on her hips. “Now you’ve done it.” She shook her head. “Now I’m so intrigued with the Darth Vader of your past, I must investigate him.”
Allison’s heart raced. “Don’t. Please .” She grasped Devon’s wrist as fear churned inside her. Trevor possessed a ruthless ability to find her. He knew he was being watched by several foreign countries. With his heightened paranoia, he constantly tracked whoever looked him up online or Googled him. He’d orchestrated alerts sent to his email when his military files were accessed. And he had the skill to uncover who made the inquiry. She’d seen it firsthand. Devon’s investigation would lead Trevor straight to her. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. Just don’t try to find him or contact him.” She wracked her brain to come up with something to stop her. “You said Vivi was the Plague? Then Trevor is the Grim Reaper, scythe and all. I swear, Devon. He can’t find out about this baby.”