He shakes his head, laughing quietly, not wanting to wake Masen. “I shut them down, saying the reason you broke up with what’s-his-face was because you had baby fever.”
“You did not say that! They must think I lured you in like a cougar,” I say, half embarrassed.
“They can think whatever they want. I had my eyes set on making your life hell so you’d notice me . . . I just didn’t expect this.”
“So the Fallen Baby project?”
“I coerced David into letting me work on that. Mind you, that was before I knew you were pregnant.”
“What about London?”
“That’s half my fault. David wanted me there but I kept refusing. After that night in the club I knew I couldn’t be around you. You’re like this magnetic force field and no matter how much I told myself I could resist you, I just couldn’t.”
I let out a sigh and try to take all of this in. How different things could have been between us if he was honest about his feelings all along! There is still the issue of Eloise . . .
“And Eloise . . . why?”
“Presley,” he chastises. “Please let me sort that out.”
I turn over onto my back. This Eloise thing is the only thing stopping us from being together. From being a family. Why can’t he just admit why he was . . . still is (in my eyes) marrying her?
“I need time to take all of this in,” I confess.
“Take what in?”
“You, not answering my questions about Eloise. Everything about the past. I’m just . . . overwhelmed.”
No more words are said tonight. And maybe it’s for the best. He moves his body to a sitting position, then leans in to kiss my cheek. “So tomorrow, you’re bringing Masen into the office?”
I simply nod, followed by the only smile I can muster. A fake one.
***
Entering the office building feels like visiting your home after a long vacation. I had missed everything about it, from the hustle and bustle of the corporate world, to the office attire, and even the politics. Vicky greets me downstairs in the lobby, running towards me in new Louis Vuitton pumps. Bitch! Where did she get those?!
“Ahem, what’s going on south of your kitty?”
She gladly lifts her feet, proudly showing off her new attire. “Oh, you mean these? Well, Patrick bought them for me. Kind of like an ‘I want you back’ present.”
I shake my head at her willingness to accept extravagant gifts from a dickhead who can’t keep his pants shut. I drop the subject, not wanting to get into an argument.
“So,” she says, taking the stroller off me and pushing it towards the elevator. “What’s happening tonight? Are you still meeting Jason for dinner?”
The whole week I went back and forth about canceling my dinner with Jason. Things were going so good between Haden and me that I didn’t want to create any unnecessary drama. But last night, after his confession, I thought long and hard about what I wanted. Having dinner with Jason was just that—dinner. I’m not planning on having sex with him, but although we ended on friendly terms, there is a sense of closure that I need from him in order to be able to move forward.
“Right now, I’m still deciding. But if I do, you’re still okay to babysit?”
“Of course! Can’t wait to hang out with my gorgeous soon-to-be godson,” she coos at Masen.
“And about that. Don’t mention that to Haden yet. I don’t think he is religious, at all.”
Vicky slides her finger along her mouth, then flicks it to the side. “My lips are sealed.”
Bringing Masen to the office is extremely overwhelming. Every woman and her overactive ovaries are fussing over him, all fighting to have a cuddle so they can smell his skin. It was only announced last week that Dee was expecting a baby with Sugar Daddy. Four months along, according to Mr. National Inquirer himself, Clive. She seems happy, asking me questions about pregnancy and birth. I’m not here to judge her, despite her sugar daddy being old enough to be her grandfather.
Clive is doing his thing, making weird sounds at Masen and trying to make him smile.
“Jesus, Pres, he looks exactly like the Jerk.”