How to Have Your Boss's Secret Baby - London Casey Page 0,56

their desires. Not me. What about you?”

“I understand that. I’m kind of the same. I have a normal office job. But when that’s over it’s-”

“We’re good together, Maya,” Clyde said. He reached across the table. “I don’t want to jump the gun, but this is going somewhere, right? I mean, you and I meeting on an app. How random? And you are exactly what I’ve been looking for. I know I can take care of you. You can feel it, right? You know nothing will worry me. Right? My best guess is we have… months… and then it’ll have to end. But I’ll be there until it happens. Imagine those last couple weeks. When your body is achy. And you’re so tired. And desperate… I want to be the one that’s there for you.”

“Clyde, I think you have the wrong impression of me,” I said. “I didn’t intend on…”

“Can I get you two lovebirds something to drink?”

I turned my head and looked up and gasped.

Cole stood at our table with a bottle of wine.

“She can’t drink,” Clyde said. “She’s pregnant. I’m not drinking either. In her honor.”

“What… uh…” I had no other words.

“That’s a kind gesture from you,” Cole said to Clyde.

“Have you seen her?” Clyde asked. “How lucky am I to have met her?”

Cole looked at me. “I agree.”

Cole slipped away and I casually looked back to see him walking around the restaurant.

“What a nice staff they have here,” Clyde said. “You don’t see that much anymore. Everyone is all about rushing in life. Not me. I wish I could keep things slow… or in a certain time.”

My eyes followed as Cole moved to the table right behind Clyde.

I could see Cole. Cole could see me.

Clyde didn’t know that.

“Maya, did you hear me?” Clyde asked.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“I said, I wish I could stop in a certain time. Can I tell you what that time is?”

“Sure.”

“I’m picturing you eight months pregnant. Your stomach is the perfect size. Your breasts are extremely full and they are sore all the time. You’re tired and it’s hard to do much. All you want to do is relax. Rest. That’s my dream for you. To see you that way. Because we all know there’s one thing you really want… and I can take care of that…”

This guy was serious. He was picturing me eight months pregnant so he could picture having sex with me.

“Clyde,” I said.

He showed his hands. “I know. Too far. Dammit. Too fucking far.” He took a breath. “You know what? I’m already too far, so screw it. I hope to know the story. How you got pregnant. What happened to the guy. You’re alone, Maya. That’s not fair. Forgive me for being so upfront but I can’t picture you leaving and being alone.”

“Well, thank you,” I said.

I was saved by our waiter as our dinners arrived.

Two large helpings of the special raviolis. Gently coated in sauce. With fresh breadsticks that glistened with butter and garlic.

Pregnant or not, the meal looked like a dream in carb heaven.

“Maya,” Clyde said.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“You’re still glowing,” he said. “I can’t wait to eat and leave with you.”

I nervously smiled.

I needed someone to save me from this creep…

I met eyes with Cole for a second and looked away.

He sat with the chair facing our direction.

Just staring at us.

Clyde still had no idea Cole was there.

He had no idea who Cole was.

Even I had no idea who Cole really was.

One second he was yelling at me to get his coffee. The next second he was trying to bring me tea to help my morning sickness. One week he acted like I was invisible and far from pregnant. The next week he was busting into the apartment acting jealous because I was going out on a date.

“Is your meal okay?” Clyde asked.

“What? Oh. Yeah.”

I realized I had been kind of poking at the same ravioli for a minute or so.

It looked like a pasta crime scene now.

“I have to ask you something,” Clyde said.

“Okay.”

“The milk.”

“Milk?”

“The milk,” Clyde said tilting his head. “You know what I mean…”

“What…”

“The breastmilk,” Clyde said. “It’s arrived. I can tell by the shape of your breasts. But is it… coming out?”

“Uh…”

Before I could answer, Cole stood and lunged forward.

He grabbed Clyde’s shoulder and he pulled him to his feet.

I stood up. “Cole…”

“What is this?” Clyde asked.

Cole spun Clyde around.

“Did you just ask her about her breastmilk? And her breasts? Are fucking crazy?” Cole growled at Clyde.

“I want to speak to your manager,” Clyde

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