“Mexican it is. Any preference for a restaurant?”
“Nope. Payer’s choice.”
His chin drops, but he doesn’t comment.
“I just need to grab my things,” I say, taking a step back, but for some reason unable to rip my eyes from him.
“I’m not going to run away,” he states when I hesitate to disappear around the corner.
“Can you blame me? It’s not like you have a reputation for hanging around.”
“Been doing some research, sweetheart?”
The second that nickname rolls off his tongue, my breath catches, and I’m taken straight back to that night.
“I’m growing your child. I have every right to know.”
“I’m not arguing. But you’ll only get to know the worst version of me online.”
“Then I guess you’d better try to show me the better version,” I say before finally disappearing around the corner. I only make it two steps before I swear I hear a muffled “fuck.”
The second I step into our small staff room, Sienna is on me.
“Oh my god. Oh my god. Everett Donnelly is here.”
“Calm down, Si,” I mutter as I walk toward my abandoned purse.
“What? No, I will not calm down. He’s here for you.”
Throwing my purse over my shoulder, I spin to face her.
“Please don’t get too excited. The only thing this man has ever committed to is a piece of rubber. Sure, he might be buying me dinner tonight?—”
“Well played, by the way,” she interrupts, making me roll my eyes.
“He might forget we exist tomorrow.”
“That’s not possible, Bea. He’s going to fall in love with you.”
“How much bleach did Lessy use today? It’s gone to your head. Everett Donnelly is not going to fall in love with me. This isn’t a cheesy rom-com or a sappy fiction story, it’s?—”
“A spicy fiction book, based on the tales of your first night.”
“Nothing is going to happen here. He’s…” I wave my hand toward the door. “And I’m…” I point to myself. “We’re not?—”
“You’re perfect.”
“Whatever little image you’ve painted in your head, you need to forget it. He’s the father of my baby; that’s it.”
Sienna smirks at me. “Okay.”
“Ugh,” I groan before marching away.
“Enjoy your date,” she calls.
“It’s not a date,” I yell back, and I regret it the second I walk out into the salon, because Everett takes one look at me and bellows, “It’s a date,” back to my best friend, who squeals in delight.
23
