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I hold my hands up. “No, I’m good.”
She rolls her eyes and waves me over. “Get over here.”
Reluctantly, I go to her. She grabs my hand and pushes my palm into the side of her belly. It’s firmer than I expected. A few uncomfortable seconds go by, and then I feel a small jerk beneath my hand.
“That is wild, and a little creepy.”
“So cool, right?” Tori smiles.
I bend down and talk to her belly. “Hey, tiny person, it’s Uncle Tug.”
“Awkward,” Drew says as he walks into the kitchen.
“Drew, come here, you have to feel this,” Tori tells him.
I place his hand where mine had been. A couple of seconds later, his face lights up.
“Whoa. Is that my baby brother?”
“Is it a boy?” I ask, confused. Last I heard, they didn’t know the sex yet.
“Yes!” Drew shouts at the same time Tori says, “We don’t know yet.”
“It is a brother,” Drew insists. “I’m positive.”
Tori smiles and hands me his bag. “He’s impossible. Have fun with him.”
Drew and I walk into the lobby of my building, and I spot an extremely irritated Larissa, sitting in one of the chairs. I’d forgotten that we had plans for dinner tonight. She stands, thrusting her hands onto her hips, and tapping her pointy-toed stiletto on the marble floor.
“You could’ve texted if you were going to be twenty minutes late.”
I don’t like her scolding tone but refrain from saying anything, since Drew is with me.
“I forgot.”
“If this is going to work, you might pretend you actually care.”
I take a step closer to her and say in her ear, “Don’t push it. I’m a payday, not a considerate, loving boyfriend. Remember that.”
“I don’t know why I put up with your shit,” she snaps.
“Watch your mouth in front of my nephew.”
“Hi, I’m Andrew.”
She glances down at him briefly and then returns her icy stare to me. “Are we having dinner or not?”
Dinner with my “girlfriend” and spending time with my nephew should be brownie points in the press.
“Yes. Let’s go up. I need to change and put Drew’s things away.”
As I turn, she pulls my arm. “Is he coming to dinner?”
I look between the two of them and wonder how a mature woman can be more of a whiner than the six-year-old boy at her side.
“No, I’m going to leave a six-year-old home alone.”
She doesn’t laugh, but Drew does. I want to high-five him, but she’s clearly pissed, and I think better of it.
