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“You can go back to work,” I tell him as I step inside the elevator.
“I’m good here,” he replies, following me.
His attentiveness makes me uneasy. A day will come when I can’t even reach him and I’ll remember this—him dropping everything for me—and it will be that much more painful as a result. “I thought you’re the bigshot at Kensington Consolidated? At the company party, everyone told me you’re the future of the company. Won’t they miss you?”
“Scarlett,” he says, with more patience than I’m expecting, “I imaginemetellingyouhow to do your job would go down about as well as a nuclear attack. Do you still hate double standards?”
I have nothing to say to that, which pisses me off. He’s right—him telling me how to doanything, much less manageHaute, would not go over well.
When did he get so good at arguing with me?
The elevator doors open. “I’m going to take a bath.”
Without another word, I head up the stairs and into the bathroom that bears clear signs of his presence. We never discussed it, but we share all the same space now. Sleep in the same bed. His suits hang in my closet. There’s a second toothbrush by the sink.
I plug the drain and start the hot water running, perching on the rim of the tub and staring out the window as it slowly fills.
I own more bubble bath than one woman really needs, but I don’t bother looking through labels. I squeeze a little of each bottle into the water swirling with steam. A decision I regret when there is suddenly a thick layer of bubbles. I shed my clothes and sink through the fragrant suds into the scorching water, using my big toe to turn the tap off.
Despite my resistance earlier, this definitely beats walking around my office in high heels.
I relax in the tub until the bubbles disappear and the water turns cold. The tub drains as I wrap a fluffy robe around myself and shuffle into the bedroom. And stop.
Crew is sprawled out on the bed typing on his laptop. He’s changed out of the suit he was wearing earlier into gray sweatpants and a white undershirt.
Corporate Crew is sexy as hell. Casual Crew gives me butterflies.
“Hey,” he greets, glancing up as I walk toward him. His gaze lingers on the fact I didn’t knot the robe. It hangs open, flashing him just about everything.
I climb atop the comforter on my side of the bed. “I’m starting to show.”
“I noticed.” Pretty sure he’s staring at my boobs, not my baby bump.
“We should decide, you know, how we’ll tell people.” I rest a hand on the small bulge between my hips. We won’t have a choice for much longer, now that I’m almost five months along.
“Like who?”
“Our parents, for starters.”
“We always go to the Alps for Christmas. We can tell my family then, if you want. And we can spend New Year’s with your folks.”
“Will the Alps be like Thanksgiving was?” A huge, formal affair, in other words. If not for the food served, I would have had no idea it was a dinner party unlike any other.
“No. My dad doesn’t invite other people over when we’re there.”
“Why?”
Crew shrugs. “No idea. He just doesn’t.”
“So it’ll be me, you, your dad,Candace, andOliver?”
“Well, I assume we’d bring Teddy.”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I know. And to answer your question, yes, it will probably be awkward.”
“Okay.”
