My (Mostly) Secret Baby - Penelope Bloom Page 0,41

I’m helpless. What if a murder of geese decides to take us out? Revenge for the car park that replaced their favorite lake?”

“A murder of geese? Are you serious? That’s crows.”

“Crows wouldn’t be this high.”

“Neither would geese!” Damon raised his voice, then took a breath and seemed to calm himself. “The term is a murder of crows. Geese would be a flock. And neither would be at this altitude. The air is too thin.”

I pondered this. “An asteroid then. One rogue asteroid and that’s it. We’re toast.”

“Do I need to give you busy work to take your mind off this?”

“Can I watch a movie on your phone?”

“Can you—” He stopped mid-sentence, blinked slowly, as if gathering strength, then shook his head. “No. You cannot touch my phone. Use your own.”

“Mine’s low on charge and I don’t want to use the last of it incase Grant needs to call me about Luna. Why can’t I use yours, anyway? Do you have nudes on your camera roll you don’t want me to see? Did you forget I’ve already seen everything? Everything,” I added in a sinister whisper.

Damon glanced to the side, as if to see if the other fancy business people flying first class were listening in. “I’ve seen everything you have to offer, too, Tinkerbell. And as your boss, I’d advise you to do what I did. Try to purge it from your memory banks.”

I knew I shouldn’t tease him, but I couldn’t stop myself. “No, thanks. I like those images right where they are.”

Damon did a double take, then looked back at his phone. A few seconds later, I glanced down at his lap and noticed a distinct bulge pressing against his pants.

His mouth could lie, but his cock couldn’t. He still wanted it. The real question was whether I did—aside from silly beachside fantasies.

We touched down in the city of Savannah in the late afternoon. It was pleasant, sunny, and a little breezy. If I ignored the icy chill radiating from Damon, it was almost perfect.

We were driven to a hotel downtown, let in by friendly staff at the doors, and pointed toward the elevators. When we reached our floor, Damon handed me a key.

“Room 317. That’s my lucky number,” I said, twirling the keycard and it’s lanyard on my finger.

“No. 317 is my room. You’re supposed to be in 318.”

I double checked the card. “Says 318.”

Damon frowned down at his. With a low growling noise, he pushed past me and headed for the elevators. I decided to let myself in the room while he sorted things out.

It was clearly the room he intended for himself, because it was massive. There was a gigantic bed, a sitting area, a little writing desk with a cute antique lamp, and gorgeous views of the city below.

I hopped on the bed and turned on the TV. Coming for this weekend trip meant I’d had to cancel a handful of tennis lessons and my bartending shift on Sunday. But when I complained to Damon about it, he scribbled me a check for two thousand dollars. Then he actually asked if that was enough to cover my time.

Of course, I’d nodded and waited until he wasn’t watching to do the Carlton dance by my desk. I didn’t even know how to do the Carlton, so I basically just spasmed and fidgeted with joy for a full minute. I’d also rushed to the bank immediately after work and cashed that bad boy. I bought Luna a toy on the way home, picked up a nice takeout dinner for my brother, and paid two bills I was late on. I also electronically paid Milly back the seven dollars I’d owed her for two years and lived in eternal dread of her remembering. She’d bought me a burrito at the mall once when I forgot my money.

All in all, life wasn’t so bad. I was even starting to believe I was really going to get my first paycheck when Friday rolled around. Six days. Six days until everything would really start to be okay. It’d be a life changer, and it might mean I could actually drop all the side gigs that were eating up the little time I did have with Luna.

Damon came storming into the room several minutes later. He closed the door behind him, then stared at me. I was sprawled out on the bed and wearing one of the complimentary robes over my clothes. “Comfortable?” he asked.

“Yes, actually. Do I have to go

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