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Ten
She wasn’t sure what happened, but after a few hours of sipping tea and watching mindless daytime television, Penelope abandoned the vicinity of craptastic and exited the off-ramp of amazing.
She showered at Zach’s house, dressed in her favorite pantsuit—white, of course—and slipped her feet into five-inch heels. She arrived at her office building via a town car—the number she’d pilfered from Zach’s refrigerator—thanked the driver and stepped onto the downtown sidewalk.
It wasn’t officially summer yet, but the Texas sun was hot. Judging by the passing professionals, summer was already here. Men had gone without their jackets, the women wore shorter hemlines and everyone, Pen included, had sunglasses perched on their noses.
She’d returned as many emails and phone calls as she could from her cell phone. She told herself that she was going to the office simply to retrieve her laptop, but now that she was here, she decided to stay. The idea of settling into her cushy desk chair, hands on the keyboard, was too tempting to resist.
Bonus, the embryo incubating in her uterus decided to allow her to keep the contents of her stomach. She’d be smart to take advantage of the reprieve.
Two hours into her routine, her planner boasted several checked-off boxes and lined-through tasks, and Pen’s fingers were practically flying over the keys as she crafted an email to a reporter. Reporters and paparazzi were good friends to have when in PR. Even if they were less friends and more acquaintances with benefits.
She sent the email by punching the enter key with a flourish before standing to refill her water bottle. She’d pulled open her office door only a few inches when Zach rounded the corner, paper takeout bag in hand, a scowl on his face.
“Zach, hi!” Rather than fetch herself a much-needed drink, she pulled the door open the rest of the way and ushered him in. “How’d you know where to find me?”
“Tony told me.”
The town car driver.
“Right. Well. Welcome to my humble office.”
Zach didn’t survey her digs, though. He set the paper bag on her desk and glowered down at her. “You’re not at my house.”
“Correct.” She smiled.
“You didn’t eat the food I left for you in the refrigerator.”
At the mention of food, her stomach roared rather than wilted. That was a good sign—her appetite was back.
“I was going to order from the sandwich cart in the lobby.” She’d been so wrapped up in work, she’d forgotten all about eating.
“Now you don’t have to.”
“Are you under the impression that I’m incapable of feeding myself?” She smiled sweetly.
“Don’t be cute.” His voice was thick with warning. “It’s my responsibility to keep you in good health since this situation is at least half my doing.”
“Ha! I’m not a prize pig, Zach. I’m responsible for myself. And I hope you’re not suggesting that you need to ensure I eat for two because I’m neglecting our baby.”
His brows slammed over his nose. “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m telling you that parenting, for me, starts here.”
Her eyes went to the paper sack. That...was actually kind of sweet. Barbaric and completely chauvinist, but sweet. She hooked a finger on the edge of the bag and peeked inside. “You brought enough for both of us. Are you staying?”
* * *
Pen scraped the bottom of her salad bowl with the plastic fork to catch the last bit of honey mustard dressing and cranberry. She hummed while chewing, then opened her beautiful blue eyes and laid them right on Zach. He was glad to see that the color had returned to her face.
“Thank you,” she said. “This was delicious.”
He raised the plastic container containing the remaining half of his Reuben sandwich, dripping with Thousand Island dressing and tart sauerkraut. “Want the rest of mine?”
Her eyes brightened. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
She eagerly accepted the container and wolfed down the rest of his sandwich. As she swiped her mouth with a napkin, he gathered the plastic containers and stuffed them into the paper sack so he could take them to the trash on the way out.
