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“You mean the hormones I no longerhaveto take?” I corrected him with a smile. “And the answer is yes.”
A few long seconds went by, then Connor dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter.
“Good sweet mother Mary,” he swore.
Fifty-Three
JORDYN
“And I’m telling you, it’s too dangerous.”
I was still looking for my keys. They could’ve been in sixteen different places, but they weren’t in any of them.
“Look,” I said, “I’m already late for work. If we’re going to have this conversation again, at least help me find my keys.”
Elliot was midway through tying his tie. Even though he was about to walk twenty steps into hishomeoffice, I guess it made sense in that he’d be onZoomcalls and video chats.
“You burned your arm last week,” Elliot said. “And you cut yourself the week before that. That forge is no place for a pregnant woman to be.”
“It’s a furnace,” I said, “not a forge. And I cut myself every week. It’s a part of glass-blowing.”
Together we paced the kitchen, passing each other a half dozen times as we looked for my car keys. I appreciated the concern, and the first few times he brought this up it was even cute. But now, after a month of being pregnant, it was getting old.
“It’s not just the shop, it’s the driving I worry about too,” he said. “You’re on the road three hours a day. Sometimes more.”
“I’ll be careful,” I said. “I’m always careful.”
“I know you are,” Elliot allowed. “But it’s other people I worry about. Some asshole could be speeding, or drunk, or going the wrong way…”
He froze on that last part, as he probably should. I shot him a look that told him to stop. Thankfully I didn’t have to do it twice.
“Where’d you have them last?” he asked.
“What?”
“Your keys.”
I sighed in exasperation. “I don’t know. I always put them down in a different place.”
“We have a key-hook in the foyer.”
“Yeah, and no one uses it.”
“Youcould use it,” he offered. “You’re the one always losing your keys.”
I stopped, placing my hands on my hips. Elliot looked across the kitchen at me, the half-knot around his neck looking ridiculous.
“Listen,” I said, “I appreciate you looking out for me. It’s very sweet. But contrary to what you believe, you can’t control everything. Elliot Chase isn’t Superman.”
He stared at me for a moment before folding his arms. If he put his glasses on, he’d almost look like Clark Kent. I didn’t tell him that though.
“I have been letting go,” Elliot said finally. “More and more. In fact, I took what you said to heart. I’ve made… some changes.”
My expression softened. So did his.
“You have?”
“Yes,” he nodded. “I realized after our conversation a few weeks back that I needed to delegate more, let go of some things.” He sighed. “Most importantly, I needed to listen to Aiden and Connor. Not just hear them, but reallylisten.”
