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Except I had a baby, I want to scream. Your baby. In fact, Riley’s back at my apartment right now and he looks just like you. The urge to tell him, to get it all out in the open, is almost overwhelming. An image flashes through my mind of Bruce smiling as he carries a laughing Riley in his arms, their black heads bent close.
But I try to forget about it, distracting myself with my drink instead. What would this man say if I told him? Would he be confused? Horrified? Angry? I know next to nothing about this man, other than that he’s amazing in bed, and that’s hardly a good foundation for being a father. Suddenly, it dawns on me that maybe he’s married, and I’m the “other woman” in his life. OMG, what if he has a family already? What if he doesn’t want kids? What if, what if, what if?
So I make the decision then and there not to tell him about our baby, clamping my mouth shut hard enough to make my jaw creak. It’s easier this way, and much less complicated. After all, no one ever plans to knock up a teen girl they randomly meet at a dive.
Then, I realize Bruce has said something to me, and turn to look at him, blushing in spite of myself. “I’m sorry?”
He smirks, looking amused, and says, “I asked if you like being an escort.”
“Oh.” I stir my drink, nonplussed. Most of my dates don’t ask many personal questions because the conversation tends to revolve around the man. “I mean, it’s not my first choice, obviously. But I can appreciate it for what it is, and it works for my life situation,” I finish on a simple note.
Bruce raises those black brows, and for a moment I’m worried he’s seen right through me and is going to call me out. But instead, he pushes his glass away and says, “Well, I’m glad to see that you’re doing well.”
I let out a silent sigh of relief. Thank god he didn’t push the subject. “What about you?” I ask, leaning against the bar and resting my chin on my hand. “I’ve told you about me, so now it’s your turn.” Any wife and kids I should know about? I wonder. Instead, I add, “And I just realized I don’t even know your last name.”
“It’s Crown,” Bruce replies. “My name is Bruce Brian Crown.”
It’s a good name, and I hold my hand out. “Nice to officially meet you then, Bruce Brian Crown. I’m Annemarie Jane Norton.”
“Nice to meet you, Annemarie Jane Norton,” he says, smiling now while taking my hand. His touch electrifies me, but I clamp down on the hot shiver that runs down my spine.
“So what do you do?” I ask.
“Believe it or not, I have a company,” Bruce remarks.
“That sounds interesting,” I say. “Doing what? E-commerce? Something with the internet? It seems like everyone has a start-up these days.”
He tips his head back and laughs, showing off even white teeth.
“No, not exactly. It’s an e-cigarette company,” Bruce replies. “Called Vapopen? Maybe you’ve heard of it.”
My eyebrows shoot up because of course I’ve heard of Vapopen. It’s the hottest line of e-cigs to come out recently, and there’s been tons of media coverage. Obviously, some has been good and some bad because nicotine is always a touchy subject, but still. The inhalers are popular and I see people on the streets of New York vaping all the time.
“I’ve heard of the company,” I acknowledge. “Plus, they talk about you like you’re the next Steve Jobs. Are you? Are you going to completely disrupt the cigarette industry?”
“We’ll see,” Bruce laughs. “Steve Jobs is an icon and I don’t think anyone can step into his shoes, to be honest. But does that bother you?” he asks mildly. “The fact that I’m the head of an e-cig company?”
I think for a moment. “It’s big news, for sure. I mean, products like this are always controversial, and I agree with public health officials that nicotine shouldn’t be marketed to teenagers. But adults are another story. We can make our own decisions,” I say with a smile.
Bruce nods thoughtfully. “That’s good to hear. I never know what kind of reception I’m going to get when I tell people I sell e-cigs.”
I laugh a bit. “Even a working girl?”
He merely nods.
“Even from you, honey. You never know, but again, I’m glad you’re accepting and open.”
Suddenly, it feels like we’re on the same page again, and that two years never passed. The air between us is light and clear, and he’s so close that our elbows are brushing. I smile genuinely this time. “Business is going well then, I take it?”
He nods, those dark features relaxed now.
“It is,” Bruce replies. “The company was in start-up mode for longer than I liked, but things really took off a while back. Actually, when I met you, I was traveling pretty much nonstop for Vapopen.”
