He nodded. “Yeah. But don’t be impressed. I’ve lost money on every real estate venture I’ve ever pursued except this one. I guess I was bound to get lucky eventually.”
We both laughed, and I realized that my first impression of Price might have been wrong. I’d thought he might be a little cocky, but he was charmingly self-deprecating.
“So, what’s your story?” I asked, sounding so much cooler than I felt and mentally patting myself on the back for it.
He shrugged. “You know…” From his tone and facial expression, I was expecting something like: “Investment banker, divorced, three kids.” Instead, he said, “Virgo, enjoys long hikes up mountain streams, the jackass who makes the bagger at the grocery give him paper instead of plastic.”
I laughed so hard I nearly spit out my drink. He stayed serious. “What?” Then he grinned, displaying a row of teeth that weren’t perfect, yet somehow managed to be perfect for his face.
“Your turn,” he said.
“Okay.” I paused. “Libra, thwarted tap dancer, carries her own reusable bags to the grocery to pretend she’s green but then doesn’t recycle her glass bottles.”
He gasped in mock shock and pretended to get down from the stool. “If you don’t recycle, then I’m out of here.”
We both laughed, and I felt those nervous butterflies.
“Have you eaten?” Price asked.
“Do you mean ever or tonight?” I smiled.
“Okay, smarty-pants.”
We laughed again. I wanted the ease of this, the lack of intensity, to continue.
As if the universe had heard me and thwarted my plans, my phone buzzed three times in quick succession. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “But I just have to make sure this isn’t my son.” I smirked, reaching for my phone. “My soon-to-be ex-husband got him an iPhone. He’s eight.”
Oh no. I cringed.I just crossed over into “bitter divorcée” territory. Reel it in, Gray.
But Price laughed. “Ah yes. Classic divorced dad move. I bought my son a PlayStationanda Wii.”
I laughed, relieved that I hadn’t killed the mood. But then I felt the blood drain from my face as I read the texts. “Oh my gosh,” I said, reaching for my purse, then realizing I couldn’t drive. So I looked at this total stranger and asked, “How many drinks have you had?”
He shrugged, lifting his glass. “Like, three sips?”
I smiled. “So, this is a bit of a strange request since we have only known each other for five minutes, but could you take me to pick up my sister?”
“Sure thing,” he said, reaching for his wallet and dropping a twenty on the bar. “Where is she?”
I rolled my eyes as I said, “Jail.”
diana: a cockamamie kidney bean
I just kept staring at it, that little photo in the frame. It looked like a cockamamie kidney bean with some growths coming out the sides. But it wasourkidney bean, our first photo of what I trusted would become a full-size baby.
It’s amazing how finding out you’re pregnant and not dying of some rare strain of E. coli makes you feel a hair better right off the bat. And then, when you start having a panic attack that, holy hell, you’re forty and pregnant and not married and is this guy going to stick with you this time? Well, then you start feeling right sick again.
I had gone straight home to take a good nap, and I really did feel a smidge better. Frank, he lay in bed with me, but I don’t think he slept because when I went to sleep he was staring at me, and when I woke up he was still staring at me.
“Have I got some sort of zit or something?”
He laughed. “No. You’re just beautiful. You’re always beautiful, but now you’re even more beautiful. You’re giving me a baby, Diana. Ababy. Can you believe that?”
I had forgotten for about a half second that I was even pregnant, it was so new. But, no, I couldn’t believe it. And it scared me to death. Because what if it didn’t take and I lost the baby? I had promised myself I wouldn’t read about all the risks of having a baby at forty. But I knew they were real.
“May I take you to dinner tonight?” he asked, smiling. “To celebrate?”
Good Lord, he was so handsome. I hoped the baby looked just like him. I nodded, feeling like I might actually be able to eat something, and I said so.
