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“Yes, as it happens.”
He laughs as I walk around and get in the passenger side. I buckle my seat belt in and stick my tongue out at him. “Carrying two artichokes around all the time is surprisingly exhausting.”
“I bet,” he says, lips curving up.
Sliding the car into the traffic, he heads south along the long, straight road toward the sea. He glances over at me a couple of times, and eventually I say, “What?”
He shakes his head. “I can’t quite make you out.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re absolutely stunning. And you’re also an amazing programmer.”
My eyes widen at the double hit of compliments. “What makes you say that?”
“I saw what you were working on. For Brandish. I knocked into your table and the screen came on.”
“Oh, shit. I thought I turned the computer off.”
“No, you didn’t. What made you work on that?”
“I saw that’s where you were and Googled the company, and the website’s terrible, and I wanted to put some of what I was reading in the book into practice, and so I had a go at doing something a bit different…”
His brown eyes study me. “I saw the one you did for Sirius Plaster, but this was better.”
“Oh, um, I did that a year ago. I’ve learned a lot since then.”
“Using Michelangelo’s David was a great idea. What made you think of that?”
The front page of the website I created today contains a picture of the statue with a prosthetic arm that moves around with the mouse cursor, similar to the one I did for Sirius, but better.
I give a short laugh. “I was inspired by one of your employees.” When he raises an eyebrow, I say, “Joop was talking about your coding. He said you can see the end product before you start, and that you tease it out of the code the way Michelangelo releases angels from the marble.”
His eyebrows rise, and I can see he’s genuinely flattered. “Oh.”
“There the similarity ends,” I add mischievously. “You’re a lot more generously proportioned than David.”
That makes his lips curve up. “Naughty girl,” he scolds.
I bite my bottom lip. “Actually, I have an admission to make. Joop asked if the rumors were true about you being the father.” I rest my hand on my bump. “I hope you don’t mind—I said yes.”
He winces. “Sorry about that. I should probably have said something first. It was bound to come out.”
“It’s okay. Everyone seemed thrilled, oddly. I did make it clear that we weren’t dating, though.”
He surveys me for a moment, then says, “Okay.”
“I don’t want you to think I told everyone we were a couple.”
“No,” he says. “Right.” He looks back at the traffic.
I’ve put my foot in it, somehow, although I’m not sure why. Is he cross because he wanted to keep it a secret?
I sigh. It’s done, and there’s not much I can do about it now.
“What’s Joop short for?” I ask.
“Jupiter.”
