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We had arrived at a table and sitting at it already was Amanda.

“Amanda,” I said, suddenly not able to breathe all that well. “What are you doing here?”

“I’ll just let you guys talk for a few minutes, but I will be right over there,” she said, pointing to the other end of the bar. She was also not facing me when she said that. The conspiracy to get me there was hatched between the two of them, and Ava was on her side.

“Why don’t you sit down, Tom,” Amanda asked. I thought of protesting, of refusing to do anything until I knew what was going on, but my body followed the instruction without any input from my indignation. Curiosity and the desire to be close to her overrode everything else at the moment.

“Okay,” I said, settling into place and clearing my throat. I tried to relax my body language so I couldn’t be threatening at all. It was something I had learned from Ava, actually, that I had a tendency to approach serious conversations combatively. When she and Mason were breaking the news of their relationship to me, there was a lot of tension simply because my body language gave off the impression I was totally against it. It couldn’t have been further from the truth then, and I didn’t want to give Amanda that impression now. I folded my hands over each other on the table, my arms stretched out so I wasn’t hunched. “What’s this all about?”

“I have some news, and I thought you should know first,” she said, and I held up my hand. I knew where this was going. She thought I hadn’t gotten my email yet, which, to be fair, was a reasonable assumption. I hadn’t responded to it, and also was a man of my tendencies, and the one of not checking all my email was a well-known one between the two of us.

“I know,” I said.

“You do?” she asked, her face a mask of confusion. Suddenly, I wasn’t so sure it was about the email.

“I read your request,” I said. “You want to move departments.”

She sat there, stunned, her jaw moving up and down like she was trying to find the words, and I decided to cut in before she could say anything else. If there was a chance to keep her before she made the jump, this was the time.

“Look, I know things are difficult, and you aren’t comfortable working with me right this moment, and I get that. And I know I’m the one who encouraged you to fill out that application. It’s just that, well, I don’t want you to leave your position,” I said.

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out.

I was halfway through another word when the interruption registered. There were at least a few seconds where I had my mouth open, the word still trying to come out, while my brain registered what the interruption actually was, and what that meant. My eyes instinctively floated to her stomach, then back up to her eyes.

“Pregnant?” I asked.

“I’m pregnant,” she repeated, this time not looking like the words got out without her meaning them to. She straightened up in the seat and looked calm and collected, but I could see her eyes measuring me. Trying to read my reaction.

“Are you sure?” I was able to mumble. It was the only thing I had at the ready. Every other thought and feeling and word was tied up with each other, all fighting their way to my throat.

“I am. Completely,” she said. There was a finality to that. No ambiguity.

“Oh,” I said, cursing my sudden inability to speak.

“So far, the only person that knows besides you and I is Ava,” she said. I turned to look at Ava at the bar, and she kind of half waved at me, then realized that meant she’d been watching us and I saw it and suddenly turned her back to me again.

“Ava,” I said, as if the name was foreign to me. I couldn’t think. I certainly couldn’t speak. Emotions and thoughts were coursing through me at lightning speed, and none of them slowed down long enough for me to concentrate on them. Instead I just looked back to Amanda, who looked like she was getting upset.

“Ava, yes. She is the only person I trusted. I talked to her about it, and she told me about how she hid her pregnancy and how I needed to tell you as soon as possible,” she said. I nodded and stared at the table. A glass was in front of Amanda, and it just registered that it was filled with orange juice. I had never known her to drink orange juice except in the breakfasts that we had in the hotel room just upstairs.

The mornings after we made love.

Upstairs.

Where we made a baby.


Tags: Natasha L. Black Billionaire Romance