last night. Tony probably dragged her to bed to get some sleep.
“He’s not crying,” my brother says with a wide grin.
“Oh!” Her eyes sparkle. “When’s the wedding?”
No wonder Yuna calls Ivy her soul sister. They both want to know the same things. “There’s no wedding,” I say. “Yet.”
Tony frowns. “Did you forget the ring?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I had the ring.” Which is infinitely superior to the horrible sapphire ring Jo had. She should’ve accepted based on jewelry alone. Contrary to what Yuna said, cake and flowers are optional, and probably not even all that helpful. I’ve never heard of women bragging about engagement cakes or engagement flowers. “I need a realtor. Tony, I’d appreciate a recommendation if you have one.”
Ivy’s eyes grow round. “She wants an engagement house?”
I shake my head. “No. She wants me to convince her that this relationship can last longer than four months. I can’t have her move in with me if I don’t have a place of my own.”
“So you’re going to be in L.A. for four months?” Tony tilts his head. “What about the company?”
“Dad’s still in Tempérane, and we have teleconferencing,” I say, instead of telling him one of the biggest reasons I don’t want to be there—Dad dating Mom, perhaps even intending to remarry her… I’m still unsure how to bring it up without upsetting Tony and Ivy. “There’s no reason I can’t handle the business remotely. Besides, I can fly back every so often to check up on things.”
Ivy’s eyes grow soft. “You must really love this woman. It’s so sweet.”
Love? “She’s pregnant with my child. I’m trying to do the right thing.”
Ivy looks at me balefully. “I hope you tried to make it sound more romantic than that.”
“I’m trying to be practical and responsible.” Those two traits should matter more than romance, which is as useful as used toilet paper.
Tony grows serious. “Did you tell her who you were? What you’re worth and the kind of future you can provide for her and the baby?”
“Of course. I said it front of her family.”
“Oh. So they should be—”
“They’re not at all impressed,” I say, knowing where he’s going with it. We’re both used to people caring about our family’s wealth and connections. “They were more interested in the fact that I’m related to the owner of Z.”
“Z? Are you serious?”
“No accounting for taste, but yes. I believe they want to get in through the VIP lane and hang out in one of the upper lounges.”
“Well, that’s…unusual.” Ivy rests her chin in her hand, a bemused smile on her face. “So what’s the new plan?”
“There is no new plan,” I say firmly. “I’m going to marry her and provide for her and my baby.”
Tony looks confused. “How? You said she wasn’t interested.”
“That’s why I asked you to recommend a realtor,” I point out dryly. “So. Do you have a name for me?”
Chapter Twenty
Jo
I roll over in bed, still in my pajamas. It’s so nice to have a day off. I even got to have my lunch—leftover Chinese from yesterday—in bed, watching Netflix.
It’s not like me to be so lazy. But I’m pregnant, damn it. I’m entitled to some relaxation and pampering.
I put a hand over my belly. Still flat. I don’t feel any different, either. Shouldn’t I be running to the toilet and throwing up? One of my clients puked after a sip of water. She said it tasted funny, which was weird because it was her favorite mineral water. She also whined about her husband’s hair wax, saying it made her nauseated.
At the same time, I shouldn’t complain about the fact that I’m not throwing up constantly. Some of my clients had an easy time. Maybe I’ll get lucky. Maybe the baby will know I’m doing this alone and want to cooperate.
My responsible little baby… A lot like its father.
A tingling sensation prickles over my lips. I lick them. If I’d had extra-spicy tacos, they might be to blame, but I didn’t. And sweet and sour chicken shouldn’t leave your mouth feeling like this.
It’s the memory of Edgar. Or, more precisely, his kiss last night.
Thinking back on it, I realize I shouldn’t have kissed him back, not after saying goodbye. What kind of message was I sending, right? I needed to show him this isn’t going anywhere.
But oh my, what a kiss. Every time he touches me, my logic melts down and my hormones take over.
Okay, no more Ms. Hormones, I decide. I’m going to be Ms. Responsible for my baby’s