Twelve
Having billions of dollars made moving much easier.
When Pen moved, she’d hired movers and packed every one of her belongings, plus loaded many of the boxes into her own car, for the traverse to Dallas from Chicago.
When Zach moved, he made one phone call to an assistant to gather Penelope’s belongings from her apartment, and another to an interior designer to decorate his new home.
Two weeks had passed since the move from her apartment. His buying her out of her lease was heavy-handed, but she could admit it made sense in the short-term. Everyone would assume it was the natural next step after hearing about the pregnancy. Plus, Zach would need more room for the baby whether Pen lived with him or not.
He’d purchased a beautiful home just outside the city, with six bedrooms and six bathrooms and a sprawling yard. A low stone wall ran the perimeter of the property, and the front featured a gate, not unlike Chase’s mansion.
The house was far more approachable than a mansion, however, with a wide front porch and white columns, and, thanks to a savvy interior decorator, a pair of rockers on the porch overlooking the front yard and curved driveway.
That was where she and Zach sat tonight.
She’d finished up at work and he’d met her at home for dinner—a dinner cooked by a chef he’d hired to monitor her feedings, or so she’d joked. Now they sat, a mug of peppermint tea for her, and a cold beer for him, rocking back and forth on the porch.
“This is really beautiful, Zach.”
He turned his head and smiled. Tonight he wore jeans and a T-shirt, looking the part of laid-back country boy. Even the recent trim of his hair couldn’t dash the relaxed line of his long body. He pushed, one knee crooked, the other leg straight out, and rocked again, finishing his bottle of beer before setting it on the wooden porch.
“Glad you like it.”
She tapped her mug with her fingernails and thought. The PR plan for them had been drawn up. She’d typed it neatly, presented it to him and he’d made changes—some she’d agreed to, others she hadn’t.
Maintain engagement (to be revisited after the baby is born)
Shopping for the baby (covered by the press)
Press release confirming baby Ferguson
“We should talk,” she said.
Zach’s hands gripped the arms of the rocker and he slowly turned to face her. His eyebrows were down, his mouth flat.
“It’s not bad!” she assured him with a soft laugh.
“Do me the favor of never saying those three words to me again?” He visibly relaxed some, sucking in a deep breath.
There had to be a story behind his request, but she wasn’t going into that now.
“It’s time to tell our families.” She placed her hand over her tummy. She’d always had a slim waist, but the bump was showing enough that people would start talking. “I can’t hide this much longer. And I’d like to tell them before we’re seen at the store.”
“That’d be best, yes.” His ease returned, along with his smile.
“How about this weekend? We can stop by your parents’ house before going to Love & Tumble.” The upscale boutique selling children’s clothing was bordering pretentious, but for the press release, they needed the attention. What better store to emerge from carrying several shiny sage-green bags in their hands while kissing? She’d already lined up a photographer and requested the shots.
“And your parents?”
“We can’t very well fly to Chicago, now can we?”
“Why not?” He shrugged. “It’s a two-hour flight.”
“On your private jet?” She snorted. This amount of convenience was all so...hard to get used to.
“I don’t own one, but I can charter a plane.” He leaned on one arm, coming closer to her chair. “Your parents might want to meet me.”
She nodded, her fantasy world ripping at the seams. Once her parents met him, once he was on her stomping grounds, would the fantasy bubble burst? She’d been sheltered, in a way. Living in this safe existence with work and Zach. Sequestered from reality while she juggled nausea, fatigue and doctor’s appointments.