Page 104 of One Bed with the Boss


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She leads us across the polished concrete floor with charming black cattle prints. Exposed brick walls and reclaimed dark wood accents lend an earthy appeal, but the huge floor-to-ceiling window facing the street stops the interior from feeling stuffy. The Edison bulbs above us are unlit, since plenty of natural light is coming in. But they glow over the open kitchen, where diners can view the chefs working their culinary magic.

Most of the soft burgundy leather banquettes are taken. We get the last remaining one near the window. Two leather folios with menus inside lie on the wooden table.

I sit down and order a bacon cheeseburger and steak fries with iced tea. Rhys asks for the same, except he wants Diet Coke for his drink.

The food comes out fast—the chefs know most customers can’t linger over lunch during the work week. I dig in, closing my eyes over the juicy patties.

“Like it?”

I nod, then swallow. “It’ssogood.”

“As good as your mom’s?”

“Almost. It’s missing something hers had.”

“What do you think that is?”

I consider for a second. “Maybe love?”

He gives me a bemused look. “Love has a flavor?”

“Maybe.” I shrug. “What else could it be? I’ve tried every herb and spice combination I can think of, but nothing comes close. Some were downright inedible.”

After about half the burger’s gone, Rhys starts the performance discussion. I’m going to be promoted to the position of executive administrative assistant starting the upcoming fiscal year, with the raise that goes with the new title. I couldn’t be happier that I earned this through hard work and dedication. Nobody, not Trevor, not Jeffrey, can take away my sense of accomplishment and pride.

“So…any questions or comments?” Rhys asks.

“Nope. Looks like I’m exactly where I need to be.”

He picks up a fry and rolls it between his fingers. “You want to try taking on some small projects—maybe expand your role?”

I look at him curiously.

“Some people want to move out of the admin role, and I want to know if that’s something you’re interested in. Not that I don’t want you as my assistant. You’re amazing, and I’ll be sad if you prefer to move on. But I don’t want to limit your potential at the firm, either,” he says.

If I weren’t pregnant, I might be tempted. He isn’t just offering to move me up. If I tell him I’d love to, he’ll personally train me to succeed in my new role.

I look down at my belly. I’ve hidden it long enough. It’s about time he knows, too.

“Actually, not at the moment. There’s…something I have to tell you.” I take a deep breath, then wipe the cold sweat off myhands on the cloth napkin. Anxiety gets stuck in my throat, so I sip the iced tea, then re-wipe my hands. God, how do I say this elegantly, without shocking the hell out of him?

Rhys watches me, his brow furrowed. “You’re starting to scare me. What is it?”

My mouth dries. I can’t think of a way to lessen the impact. One of Mom’s many life lessons flashes in my head—Just go for the truth when you’re stuck. I inhale a shaky breath. “I’m pregnant.” I drop the words like bombs.

He stares, his eyes unblinking behind his glasses. “What?”

“It’s just what I said.” I clear my throat. “I’m pregnant. There’s a baby growing in my belly right now.”

He still says nothing, but his eyes drop to my stomach. The frown deepens, calculations flashing behind them.

Sharp disappointment impales my heart. I didn’t expect him to jump with joy, but he doesn’t have to be so…detached. He might not feel anything about the baby. He might even think it’ll complicate his plans. After all, he proposed the fake dating to get his grandmother off his back. A baby isn’t part of the plan.

Besides, the order of events is all wrong for him—probably. Just like it wasn’t ideal for me, either. Didn’t we both seem to agree that it should be marriage first,thenmaybe a baby or two? He never said the woman had to be me. Despite our chemistry in bed and the lovely time we have outside of it, he’s never hinted at a desire to be with me forever.

“This…isn’t what I expected. Damn.” He takes off his glasses and runs his hand over his face. He only does it when he’s under an extreme emotional upheaval, and I’ve only seen him do it twice. Both times, the firm was about to lose several billion dollars. “We’ve been so careful.”

“It was Tokyo.”