“Ah, yeah… that one.”
“What about her?”
“There was a woman at her party. Raven-black hair, green eyes?—”
“You mean Satan?” She cocks her head to the side. “Are you the Hunk she hooked up with?”
“First, there is nothing wrong with being a strong woman.”
“Strong woman?” Natasha sneers. “Is that what you think she is?”
Deciding not to argue with her, I say, “I have something I’d like to return to her.”
“Would you like her address?”
Suddenly, my plan stops making sense. It’s like my brain has just now realized that in order to find out more about Samantha, I actually have to ask questions, but the last thing I want to do is make Natasha relive bad memories.
“Attention!” Vanessa calls, waving her clipboard in the air.
Thankfully, Natasha forgets what we were talking about and hurries to help with the show.
At this point, everything I do is on auto-pilot, because I can’t get my mind off of my new obsession.
Samantha Weston.
With an hour until go-time, I return to the questionnaire, answering a few more questions before snapping a pic of the first page and inserting it into a text box for Samantha, hoping she finds relief in its completion and the fact that I’ve prioritized what matters to her.
After I hit SEND, I watch the text, hoping to see a bubble pop up, indicating she’s received the message, but the screen remains bubble-less.
Which is fine. Samantha is a busy woman.
I wish I could hire a maid for her or somehow magically make her workload decrease, but chances are, she can afford whatever help she needs, which will make it harder for me to endear myself to her.
I go back to my phone and start looking up rings. I know having a baby isn’t the ideal reason for getting married, but I’dbe obsessed with this woman anyway, and it’s not like I’m going to propose the next time I see her. First, I have to prove myself to her. I’ve already shown her I can satisfy her physical needs. Her emotional needs will be a different beast, but I’m up for the challenge.
First, I have to tell Carl. At any given moment, Samantha could have an emergency, and I aim to be there as much as I can without getting canned.
I find him seated at his desk, grumbling at his computer screen.
“Could I have a second?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t bite my head off.
He gestures to the chair across from him.
I begin with, “So, there’s been a development in my life.”
“Another poker tournament?” he asks without looking up from his screen.
“Ah, no, actually. It’s more of a droid issue.”
His eyes snap to mine. “Droid?”
“I mean…baby.”
He blinks at me as the words roll around in his head.
“It wasn’t planned, but it’s happening, and I’m more than thrilled by the news.”
“When?”
