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Her heart sped up in her chest. Oh, my God. Then the reality of her situation kicked in. She was pregnant. Even if she told him the facts and he was okay with her taking a few weeks off to have the baby, it would be an excessively short period for her to bond with her child. Nothing as Coburn had envisioned.
She dipped her chin. “I’m not sure it’s the right timing for me.”
His gaze narrowed. “You know what this fellowship is worth, Diana. The window is narrow. I’ve got to make a decision by the end of the month. Think about it.”
How could she not? It had been her dream to work with him.
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
His cool blue gaze rested on her face. “Tell that possessive husband of yours it’s only a couple of years. He can have you back after that.”
Or not. Coburn would lose his mind if she brought this up. She wasn’t going to say anything until she’d thought it through.
Frank glanced at his watch. “I must go. You know where to find me. I’m glad I ran into you.”
She felt as if a train had hit her as his tall figure disappeared through the glass door. Fate was being very cruel. To offer her her dream at this crucial point in her marriage with a baby on the way? When she’d finally come to peace with her circumstances? What was this particular test supposed to accomplish?
Head spinning, she collected her shopping and walked home to Coburn’s apartment they were still sharing until the house was ready. He got home ten minutes before Frankie and Harrison were due to arrive, dark shadows under his eyes as he dropped his briefcase to the floor.
Her heart stuttered with the same half beat it always did when he walked into a room. He had the whole distracted hot-man-in-a-suit thing perfected. And then there was the fact she knew every amazing inch beneath it...
Setting the bread she was cutting on the counter, she walked to the door, grabbed the lapels of his jacket and rose up on her toes to give him a kiss. He snaked an arm around her waist and returned the kiss with a hungry force that underscored the edginess she’d read on his face.
“Bad day?”
He nodded, releasing her to strip off his jacket. “We’re announcing the recall next week. The allocation of blame, the messaging around it, it’s been brutal. Everyone wants someone’s head on a platter.”
She took his jacket. “That can’t be easy.”
His eyes glittered with frustration. “I want to get out in front of this. Accept responsibility and help the victim’s families. Find a solution to the problem so it doesn’t become a systemic part of our processes. But the more time we waste arguing over the semantics, the longer it’s taking us to attack the issues.”
Her mouth curved in a wry smile. “Sounds like hospital politics. But who could want you to not take responsibility? That seems like Crisis Communications 101 to me.”
“The board wants to minimize our culpability. Share the blame.”
“But aren’t Grant parts responsible for the brake failures?”
“We’re ninety-nine percent sure they are.”
“Then, doing the right thing is never the wrong thing.”
“My critics think we can do both.” He dug his fingers into his tie and loosened the knot. “How was your day?”
“Scintillating,” she said drily. “I worked out, went for lunch with Beth, then shopped for dinner. The highlight was a half hour spent picking out which wine to serve with the steak.”
His gaze raked her face. “Diana—”
“Stop.” She cut him off softly. “I was being facetious. I’m good.”
He gave her a long look. “I need to change.”
“Go.”
She finished prepping dinner. She wanted to tell Coburn about her chance meeting with Frank Moritz that afternoon and his earth-shattering offer so badly, it was eating a hole in her brain. But now was definitely not the time.
Frankie and Harrison arrived. Vivacious and beautiful Frankie was a perfect foil for Harrison’s serious, dark demeanor. Diana had always been a little cautious around Coburn’s brother in the past, finding him moody and stern. But he seemed to have loosened up since he’d met Frankie; this version of the presidential candidate one she liked very much.
If she’d been anticipating a hostile response from her brother-in-law for walking out on Coburn a year ago, she didn’t get it. Harrison wasn’t overly warm—warily accepting was more like it. As if he was leaving it up to her and Coburn to figure it out.
