focusing on my lunch. “Thanks.”
The stack of paperwork seemed to whisper at me all through lunch. Annie didn’t bring it up again, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The whole thing was making me slightly nauseated, but I couldn’t understand why. Annie and Miranda didn’t have malicious motives. They weren’t after his money, and I was sure the contract spelled that out in exacting detail. They simply wanted the best match for their hoped-for child. They liked his physical and intellectual traits—and who could blame them. Shepherd was basically perfect.
Other than being a robot, of course.
But damn it, he wasn’t a robot. Not at all. He seemed like one at work—and he’d certainly been back to his old robotic self this morning. But underneath it all, there was a lot more to Shepherd Calloway than met the eye.
Which, when I thought about it, made him an even better candidate to be their sperm donor.
It was probably a good thing this hadn’t been a mimosa or martini lunch. I managed to get through the meal without blurting out anything about living with Shepherd, pretending to be his girlfriend, or the fake-fiancée mess I’d gotten myself into.
After saying goodbye to Annie, I took my time walking back to my office, the folder with the donor contract tucked beneath my arm. I still had no idea how I was going to ask Shepherd. Or if I really could. When he’d asked me to pose as his girlfriend, it had seemed like the perfect lead-in. I’d do him this very large favor. He could at least consider doing me this favor in return. Even if he ultimately said no, at least I’d have tried. I wasn’t going to insist or guilt him into it. It was a business deal. He dealt with those every day. He could determine if the terms were favorable and make his decision from there.
But I still hated the idea of even asking. Now more than ever.
I shuffled back to my desk, absent the usual spring in my step. Steve gave me a sympathetic smile, but didn’t have any more cat-themed suggestions for dealing with stress. I put the folder away in my desk drawer and sat down, telling myself I needed to focus on work. Not on the fact that Shepherd was mad at me, or how I was ever going to broach the subject of him donating his sperm to make my sister’s baby dreams come true.
Shepherd’s office door opened behind me and I almost jumped out of my chair. My back clenched as his footsteps approached. He was going to walk right by and not even look at me. I just knew it.
Although, what would be wrong with that? For three years, he’d walked by this desk numerous times a day without glancing at me. He’d never been friendly, and I hadn’t expected him to be. Our working relationship had been simple and routine, and there had been nothing wrong with it.
But nothing was the same anymore. I was a big, swirling mess of feelings, and I had no idea what to do about it.
To my enormous shock, he didn’t walk by. He stopped, the smooth lines of his expensive suit in my peripheral vision. I froze, my palms planted on my desk, my heart racing. I couldn’t make myself look up.
“Everly?” His voice was deceptively soft, lacking the edge that usually told me he was frustrated or impatient.
I slowly lifted my gaze to meet his. That was a terrible idea. Those eyes. That jaw. That spot in his cheek where a dimple puckered if he smiled. I could almost see the little indent now, as if at any moment, his serious mask would melt away and he’d smile at me.
“Yes?” I managed to choke out.
“Come with me.”
I cast a nervous glance at Steve. He looked stricken, his eyes wide, his mouth hanging open. He watched me get up, staring as if I were being led to my execution.
Unsure as to where we were going, or why, I snatched up my purse and followed Shepherd to the elevator. It felt as if all eyes were on me as we walked down the hallway. I held my purse close to my body, trying to keep my face neutral. Office gossip spread like wildfire, but I was pretty sure the worst anyone would say was that it looked like I was in trouble. Which, to be fair, I was—just not in the way they’d think.
Plus, Shepherd’s robotic stoicism