“Hello?” I yell through the noise. My irritation rises as a buzzing sound from a table saw belts through the speaker. “For fuck’s sake.” I push the phone back from my ear.
"Mr. Morgan? Is something wrong?” she snaps, as the noise in the background fades.
"Not at all, Ms. Jenkins.” I clear my throat. “Just a little loud where you are.”
“Yeah. Glen and I are doing some demo. What can I do for you?”
“I have some news.”
“News?”
“Yes, you'll be pleased to know the results are in. I am the father."
She lets out a tiny, nervous giggle. "I'm glad Maury came back with the test so quickly."
Oh, how I admire her quick little wit.
"So, what now, Mr. Morgan?"
Yes, what now.
"Can we meet for lunch? I hate talking over anything heavy on an empty stomach."
"I'm the complete opposite, but sure."
“Let’s say we meet in an hour. I know the perfect place we can talk.”
"That should work. I need to go down to the third floor and do final measurements in some of the offices before I buy the flooring."
"Anybody giving you a hard time?"
"No? Why would they?"
"No reason."
"Everyone seems excited about getting new digs and updated features. You would think it was Christmas down here."
"I'm glad to hear it, Red—Holly," I hiss through my teeth at the slip of my nickname for her—but fuck it. She's going to be a part of my life for at least the next sixteen years. In a way, I'm committing to her. She’s mine, so I can call her whatever I damn please.
Mine. I didn’t think I would ever be saying those words about someone.
“Mr. Morgan, you there?"
“Yes. I'll meet you at Pierre's in an hour," I reply and hang up before she can say anything more. I need to get myself together.
I'm pacing outside of Pierre's waiting for Holly. I glance down at my watch; it's ten minutes after the hour, and I'm starting to wonder if she's going to show.
“Where the hell is she?” I mutter to myself.
“Behind you,” Holly chimes, tapping my shoulder.
I spin around and my eyes draw up and down the length of the woman before me. Her strawberry hair is done in a tight bun, making her neck look kissable. The blue dress clings to her every curve and the collar dips enough to give me a peek of her cleavage. Is it possible for her to have gotten more desirable over the last couple days?
“Hi.”
“Sorry I’m late. I was on the phone and the guy I was talking to about office furniture wouldn't stop talking. Then I had to Google this place because you didn't leave me an address.” She raises her eyebrow at me.
I cringe “My apologies. I got pulled away.”
“It's alright.”
“You look beautiful by the way,” I whisper and lean in to kiss her cheek. I let my fingers travel down the length of her bare arms, having this desperate urge to touch her after days of not seeing her.
Her eyes widen, and I know I’ve caught her off guard by the compliment and my touch. “Thank you,” she stutters and looks away from me.
This brings me back to the night at the Tilted Keg when I first found myself so drawn to her. Her looking so shy and tempting, where I wanted nothing more than to get lost in her, but now I want to be able to build something more with her.
“Shall we go inside?” I place my hand on the small of her back and guide her inside. She leans into me as the maître d’ leads us through the long dining hall to our table. I’ve asked for a private corner by the fireplace.
“This is nice,” she says as I pull out her chair.
“I figured this place would give us both the comforts of privacy and also being in public if needed.” I tuck her in and round the table to my chair as our waiter approaches.
“Welcome to Pierre’s.” The young waiter, who has his black hair slicked back and is wearing an overpowering amount of cologne, hands us both our menus and turns over our wine glasses. “I’m Scott, and I will be helping you today.” He lifts the wine menu from the table and hands it to me. “I recommend the…”
“We won’t be drinking,” I bite out harshly. “Please take this away and the glasses.” I hand him the menu and he nods.
“Sure thing, sir.” He grabs the menu and reaches for my wine glass.
“We will have water. Thank you.”
I feel Holly staring at me and I’m hoping she wasn't expecting an afternoon drink and doesn’t ask me why I’m being such an ass towards the waiter, who looks like Danny from Grease, over a wine list.
“Actually, may I have a Diet Coke,” she asks the waiter. He tells her right away before walking off with our unused glasses. “Water is nice, but I could use the caffeine after the morning I had." She unfolds her napkin and places it on her lap.
“Sorry, I should've asked.”
“No biggie. Easy fix.” She gives me a tiny smile and plays with her salad fork.
“I want to start by telling you I'm sorry for being shut off the last couple days.”
“It's water under the bridge now." She waves off but she doesn’t directly look at me. “I laid some heavy, life changing news on you. I didn’t expect you to do a jig.”
“It was pretty heavy." I lean back in my chair as the waiter drops off our drinks. Holly thanks him and when he asks about our orders, I tell him we need
