Chapter 4.

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The day came sooner than I hoped. And I was a complete nervous wreck. Bad enough my shit gig the other night set me back a day of pay. Now I had to come in on Sunday for an extra hour.

I'm sure any girl alive in this universe would be excited to be getting a call from Paul McCartney to meet him at a hotel. But when he was as angry as he was now, ready to attack me with questions and proof....nothing could be anymore scarier.

.

I wore a long sleeved grey shirt and some dark tight blue jeans. My blonde hair pinned up in a messy ponytail. I wore hardly any makeup except for eyeliner, and a touch of red lipstick. I took advantage of wearing heels for now until I became huge and my feet can't handle it.

It was six in the evening as I stared at the paper where I wrote down the address, then up at the tall building. Taking a breath, I went in through the entrance and went to the elevators on my way up.

The halls were empty and long, like I was walking on death row. I slowly walked until I neared the door and could almost feel the tension coming from the room. Knocking one, two, three. He didn't answer. I set the paper in my pocket and knocked again.

I repeated louder and thought about turning back.

"Good. You're here." He said behind me, making me jump. I looked at him as he opened the door and nodded for me to come in. I shut the door behind myself as he shrugged his coat off and looked at me with an angry expression. I just sat on the small sofa and placed my hands in my lap.

"We both know why were here. What is it that you really want? Money? A fuckin affair? A whole parade in honor of your name? Lying to me about being pregnant, I have to admit....that's pretty far." He laughed sarcastically. I just looked at him.

"You think I'm lying?" I asked.

"Wouldn't be the first time a bird's popped back into my life wanting something more than a one nighter. Ye got me 'ere. Go on." He waved a hand at me and lit himself a cigarette.

"I'm not a liar. You think I'd joke around about something like this?" I shook my head. "You don't know me at all."

"Exactly. I don't know you at all."

"Well i'm not a liar. Besides, we didn't use any contraceptives that night, remember?"

"I don't remember much of that night. Even if ye are pregnant, how do I even know it's mine?"

"I don't go out and have one night stands every day of my life you know. I'm not a whore."

"You sure were that night." He scoffed. I stood up and grabbed my purse.

"You know what? Forget this." I headed to the door but was stopped. He grabbed my arm and pulled me back to the sofa. He gave a long sigh.

"Look, Is this true? No bullshitting. No lies or messin about. Are you really pregnant?" He looked into my eyes. His voice still stern, but softer than before.

"Yes. With all due respect mister McCartney, I don't need your money, your sympathy, or any handouts. I actually have a life of my own and I hope to keep it that way. I plan on having this baby and keeping it. I just thought you should atleast know."

He let go of my arm and put out his cig. "Why? Wouldn't it 'ave been better if ye just moved on and got rid of the whole situation in the first place? I have a girlfriend. An important career and a...."

"I just wanted you to know. That's all. After this, we can move on with our lives, go our seperate ways and forget we ever met."

I watched him sit on the sofa and look up at me. "I'm not that heartless. Look um..."

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