I rummage through the cabinets before locating a roll of paper towels. Putting my purse down, I drop to my knees and begin mopping furiously.
“It is,” I mumble, cheeks red. “It totally is, and I don’t want Brenda to have to clean this up. It’s not her job.”
Leonie just shakes her head.
“Holy shit, you’ll have to tell me all about it,” she says. “Let me just grab my purse.”
So now we’re at Westville bistro, enjoying our salads. Or rather, we’ve both ordered food but can hardly taste what’s going into our guts.
“Are you serious?” she gasps again. “So you did him bareback?”
“Well, not bareback in the sense of you know, him in me. But bareback in the sense of my finger in him, yes.”
She practically spits out her quinoa.
“Holy fuck. Holy fucking shit.”
“Don’t judge,” I say quickly. But of course, Leonie has to say something. She’s my medical partner, and half of this business belongs to her. We have malpractice insurance, but surely, the insurance adjuster never envisioned a scenario like this.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” is her dark remark, taking another bite of kale. “You know our premiums are already high enough as is.”
I nod, taking a delicate swallow of creamy tomato soup.
“I know,” is my reply. “But I can feel it in my bones, Leonie. He’s the one.”
Now my friend puts down her fork.
“You’re shitting me, Melly. You don’t know him. You just met him!”
I nod, but there’s determination in my eyes.
“He’s the one, Leonie. I swear on my mother’s grave. I can feel the vibes in the air. He’s the one.”
My buddy rolls her eyes and sighs then.
“Seriously Mel. For a smart girl, sometimes you’re such a dreamer. This is reality, not one of your romance novels!”
But I stick to my guns, popping another French fry into my mouth.
“I know, Leo. But seriously, we’ve had this talk so many times before. You know, how medical school left us no time for dating. How residency was our boyfriend. How all the guys we know are spineless weaklings. This guy is different. He’s going to be the daddy of my babies.”
And Leonie heaves another huge sigh, knowing that it’s useless to talk to me. Because everything I just laid out is true. Our lives have been so busy since our undergrad days, that we haven’t had much opportunity to get out. And the duds I met were like Darren. Limp weaklings who had weird BO and an inflated sense of self. So yeah, my baby instincts are turned up high now. I’m thirty, with nary a possibility in sight. My ovaries are shriveling at this very moment, but when they saw Mace Jackson, everything changed. They plumped up, and I could almost feel my eggs being drawn to this man’s semen.
But Leonie thinks I’ve gone batshit crazy.
“This isn’t one of your romance novels,” she warns again. “In those books, they always end up getting knocked up by Fabio. But how do you know Mace Jackson is Fabio? That’s the thing, Melly. You don’t know him at all.”
But I shake my head.
“But I don’t want him to be Fabio,” is my airy reply. “Besides Fabio is fake. He’s a male model who sells fake margarine to housewives. This is different because look,” I say pulling out my phone. “Mace Jackson is some type of corporate tycoon. He has a business that’s worth two billion dollars.”
Leonie seizes my phone from my hand.
“Gimme that,” she mutters impatiently. “I can’t believe you’ve been stalking a patient,” she complains.
But I’m not fazed at all.
“It’s the first thing that pops up when you google him,” I add airily, taking another bite of kale. “But see what I mean? He owns a construction outfit, and it says there that his real estate holdings are in the billions.”
Leonie just shakes her head.
“So he’s in real estate,” she says. “But that doesn’t make him a good father. Listen to me, Melly. Your hormones are raging. Mine are too. We’re thirty something girls in the city with few prospects, and no time to meet men. But try and get a grip, Melly. No seriously, listen to me. You can’t go off on some crazy idea just because a hot guy walks in and lets you kiss his ass. Literally, kiss his ass.”
I laugh at her quip because Leonie’s funny, and she’s right too. I did kiss his back hole, and I don’t know this man from Adam. At least not yet. But possibility hangs thick in the air when it comes to Mace Jackson … and given our recent escapade, I’d say the chances are good that this man will become my baby daddy.
Chapter 7
Mace
Holy shit. I haven’t thought of anything but Dr. Carter since my appointment three days ago. The curvy brunette’s ruled my dreams, both asleep and awake. Shit, I haven’t even gotten many z’s because I’m re-living our naughty encounter as I lay in bed tossing and turning.