She must have been nuts, she thought, pushing through the revolving door at the entrance of her office and stepping out onto the street, because quite honestly these last few weeks had been some of the best of her life. Better than her A-level fortnight, better than her finals and better even than her viva, which was saying something.
And it wasn’t just the sex, although that was pretty high up there on her list of things to be pleased about. It was the conversation too, the exchange of personal information that neither of them had ever intended to do.
Tangled in sheets and basking in the aftermath of explosive passion, they’d conversationally meandered through topics such as siblings, parents and careers, and he hadn’t once tried to deflect her questions the way she’d half expected him to.
She’d told him about her love of numbers, the black and white nature of them and their fail-safe reliability, and he’d confessed to the thrill he still got when everything came together to create a great advertising campaign and his regret that he no longer had the time to do much on the creative side. She’d talked about her future plans for her business and he’d mentioned his intention to expand his operations by putting in an offer for the US agency that was up for sale.
She’d touched on her sister and her disaster of a marriage, and he’d told her about Celia and the devastating effect their parents’ divorce had had on her.
She’d told him more about her school years and he’d told her about the traumatic time he’d had during his, when his parents had been at the height of their arguing and things had been tough for a while.
The only thing they didn’t talk about was their relationship and where it was going, but that was fine with Zoe because she wasn’t sure where she wanted them to be going.
At the moment, for her at least, things were going just great. Dan didn’t seem to be put off either by her idiosyncrasies or her insecurities; on the contrary he seemed respectively fascinated by and supportive of them, and if she’d been more into the arts than th
e sciences she’d have said she was blossoming beneath all the attention he showered her with.
As agreed they’d kept a low profile, staying in more than they’d been out, and that suited Zoe just fine too because despite her self-assurances to the contrary she had been worrying a bit about the possibility of press intrusion and what might be said about her.
And yes, a couple of photos of them had popped up on the Internet and in the papers, with a comment or two that she didn’t much care for, but generally she didn’t warrant much interest. She wasn’t a glamorous actress, after all—and of course she’d Googled Jasmine Thomas even though she’d immediately wished she hadn’t because the woman was absolutely gorgeous—and she wasn’t famous or newsworthy or anything. She was just someone who was having fun. A lot of it.
And with any luck she’d be having some more of it tonight, she thought, smiling to herself as she gripped onto the strap of her handbag and weaved her way through the crowds towards the tube station.
Dan was off to the States tomorrow to go and check up on the company he was planning to buy, and she was cooking him a farewell dinner, which involved hours of preparation, lots of expensive ingredients and going home early for a bit of pampering.
She was trying not to think about how much she was going to miss him, but that was proving to be nigh on impossible because she feared she was going to miss him hugely. She’d got used to his calls, his emails, the hot hard kiss he always gave her whenever they met up that was better than any hello, even the light snoring he swore he didn’t do. The calls and emails she guessed she’d still get, but the kisses and the snoring she’d pine for terribly.
The disproportionate strength of her reaction to the thought of not having him around for what was only a week would have made her stop and wonder if she hadn’t been feeling so jittery and tense and sick.
Of course the nerves and the edginess and the nausea churning through her could well be PMT, she thought, swearing beneath her breath when someone bumped into her, because she always felt a bit tense and snappish a day or two before her period.
Not usually nauseous though, but then seeing as she’d been on something of an emotional roller coaster ever since she’d met Dan, and hadn’t eaten all day in anticipation of this evening’s feast, perhaps nausea was only to be expected.
Or was it something else?
Zoe stopped dead, right there in the middle of the street with people streaming round her on their way home, the bottom falling out of her stomach and the world around her going fuzzy.
Hang on.
She and Dan had been sleeping with each other, for what, a month now, and she hadn’t had a period. Over a month, actually, she thought, her heart hammering and her head pounding as she calculated the dates.
She was late. Way late. Which didn’t look good.
Oh, God.
A film of sweat broke out all over her body and her clothes suddenly felt tight, constricting. Her head swam and her legs went all weak and shaky because a pregnancy had never featured in any part of her plan to have fun. She didn’t think it featured anywhere in Dan’s either, although they’d never talked about stuff like that. Hell, they barely talked about their plans beyond a week in advance, but a man who generally didn’t proceed beyond three dates wasn’t likely to welcome the lifetime commitment of a child.
What she and Dan were having was nothing more than a fling. He’d never indicated that he was interested in anything else and now she came to think about it every time he’d told her something personal he’d subtly managed to work in a reference to the confidentiality agreement she’d signed. He clearly kept it at the forefront of his mind, whether consciously or subconsciously, and whatever way she looked at it the fact was it wasn’t a sign of someone who was about to throw himself into a full-blown strings-and-everything relationship. Nor was the fact she hadn’t met any of his family or friends and he hadn’t expressed any interest in meeting hers.
So if she was pregnant then what would she do? Would she get rid of it? Would she keep it? If she did keep it then how would she cope when she wasn’t sure she even liked children? Financially, she was fine of course, but emotionally, well, who knew where she was with that?
And God, what if the press were to find out? she thought, beginning to hyperventilate as random thoughts whipped round her head. They’d have a field day and Dan would be furious and he’d think she’d done it on purpose to trap him or something and it would all be her fault, even though of course it wasn’t, and—
Telling herself she had to calm down before she passed out on the pavement, Zoe drew in a deep steadying breath and then let it out as slowly as she could.
She had to stop and think about this logically and rationally because maybe, on the other hand, there wasn’t anything to worry about. She’d never been all that regular, and, what with the stress of work lately and the high she’d been riding with Dan, perhaps her cycle was merely struggling to cope. And they had been so very careful.
Either way, she thought, summoning strength to her limbs and changing course for the pharmacy across the road, the minute she got home she’d better do a test because she wasn’t sure she could cope with the uncertainty.