My (Mostly) Secret Baby - Penelope Bloom Page 0,36

focus on taking notes. And do your best to write more legibly. Those notes look like you scribbled them while sitting on one of those vibrating hotel beds.”

Chelsea bit back a grin. “Do you have a lot of experience with vibrating hotel beds, Mr. Rose?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Or is it that you can’t help imagining me on one of them?”

Was she serious? Apparently, my dick thought so, because it immediately stiffened.

“Keep figuring out our fucking problem,” I commanded the rest of the room. I started scribbling something on my notepad, just to avoid having to look at Chelsea for a moment.

When I hired her, I’d intended to drive her out of the office with the slow torture of my proximity. Instead, it felt like she was the one with the upper hand, and I needed to find a way to fix that, and soon. Really damn soon.

I looked down at what I’d written, then grinned with mirth.

Don’t be stupid was scratched into the legal pad about ten times.

18

Chelsea

“Mommy, how long do I have to stay under your desk?”

“Shh!” I grinned stupidly. I was still positioned directly in the center of the office. I had no cubicle walls and no form of privacy. I also had a daughter with a school holiday and no brother to watch her while I worked today.

Maybe the slightly more reasonable thing to do would’ve been to ask my bosshole for the day off. Instead, I’d come in early enough that I knew only maintenance staff might see that I was accompanied by an adorable little package of curly cuddles.

It also gave me time to position my bag and whatever else I could find to sort of block off the bottom of my desk. Luna was currently down there with my phone to watch and a pair of headphones. We were going on three hours, which was like three years in little kid time.

The office was buzzing with activity by now. Smartly dressed men and women zipped around the room like there were literal fires to put out on their keyboards.

And me? I was muttering answers to a little girl hiding under my desk.

“Do not move, okay?” I said.

Luna froze where she was, which caused her small frame to tip over sideways while she acted like she’d just been blasted with ice.

I grinned, then got up. It was Friday, and I’d promised myself I was going to confront Daria before the end of the week. Maybe I saved it for the absolute last minute, but I was a woman of my word, either way.

I found her at her desk in the corner of the room, which was partitioned off like everyone else’s, except mine. She turned in her chair to regard me when I walked up. I noticed her desk and partition walls were decorated with little skeletons, voodoo heads I hoped were fake, and posters for bands I didn’t recognize.

“Oh, it’s you,” she said dryly.

“Yeah, it’s me. The one you told to wear yellow to impress Damon.”

Daria’s normally flat face changed so slowly I almost didn’t realize it was happening. Her full lips were pulled up at one corner in the faintest smile. “And you bit hard on that one, didn’t you?”

I sucked in air through my nose, not even sure what to say. “Why? That’s all I want to know. Why?”

Daria considered me. “You’re right. That was mean of me. To tell you the truth, his favorite color is actually plaid. If you really want him to be nice, wear that tomorrow.”

I found myself grinning, and Daria grinned back. “Asshole,” I muttered, turning to leave.

“Gullible,” she called after me.

I got back to my desk, still not sure if I was mad at Daria or starting to like her. I tapped Luna, who was still frozen in place. “Unfreeze,” I whispered.

She blew out a breath of relief, then went back to watching her phone.

That was when Damon’s incomprehensible email came in.

Tink, (not only did he still use a little pet name for me, we’d apparently moved on to a pet name within the pet name? Things were getting serious, clearly.)

I have a client coming in today and she’s lactose intolerant, glucose sensitive, and only eats food with an “identifiable history.” I want an impressive assortment of things for her to snack on while she’s here. You have an hour.

Damon

I stared at my screen, ignoring the fact that Luna was literally gnawing on my ankle. Sometimes I swore she was part dog,