Chapter 12
CHAPTER
TWELVE
AVA
I don’t know what I expected Myles to be like when he came back to the office, but this isn’t it.
He seems moodier than ever, walking into the open plan office and giving terse nods to people before he stalks with those long legs over to his closed office and wrenches open the door, slamming it behind him loud enough that a few of us exchange glances.
I’m starting to wonder if the kinder, gentler Myles Salinger that I got a glimpse of on Friday night, and again on Monday during our messaging was only a figment of my overactive imagination.
Because he sure isn’t behaving like that now. Especially, when he opens his door and cusses out the accounting team for not providing a report he needs.
“Who peed in his cornflakes?” Ryan asks. “He seemed like an okay guy on Friday. I guess it was the beer.”
“It was nice of you to invite him,” I say to Ryan, because it really was. And Ryan isn’t always known to show unprompted signs of kindness.
“Yeah, well.” Ryan shrugs. “I’m regretting it now.”
At three o’clock, Myles opens his office door and calls out my name. I look up from the artwork I’ve been proofing and catch his gaze.
“Can you come into my office, please?” he asks me.
Ryan sends me a sympathetic smile as I close down the document I was working on and push my chair out from under the desk. Today I’m wearing a navy shirt dress that belts at the waist and ends at my lower thigh. It’s elegant but modest.
And no, it has nothing to do with the fact that I knew Myles would be back in the office today. Nothing at all.
Myles is sitting back at his desk when I make it into his office, carrying my laptop in case he asks me for any details I don’t have on hand. When I enter, after knocking of course, he tells me to sit and I take the chair opposite his. From here I can see the dark shadows beneath his eyes.
He looks tired.
“Thank you for standing in for me at short notice,” he says. “Especially at the Monday meeting.”
“No problem. It was eye opening.”
He’s taken his tie off and has unfastened his top three shirt buttons, revealing a vee of tan skin and a hint of chest hair. It’s funny because I’d forgotten just how big this man is. His chest is so broad that it makes my body tingle.
“Did you contact Macy’s?” he asks. His eyes flicker to mine. He holds my gaze for a moment too long.
And I like it.
“Yes,” I tell him. “We have a videoconference on Friday. Would you like to be there?”
He shakes his head. “It’s your baby. You take the lead on this one.”
I still don’t know whether to trust him or not. I mean, I think I should give him the benefit of the doubt, but he’s giving himself an awful lot of plausible deniability if something goes wrong.
That’s why I’ve saved our messages. Just in case.
“There’s something else I need to talk to you about,” he says, his voice lowering. I feel my face flame because I know exactly what the topic is.
The offer he made on Friday night. It’s been four days and I haven’t stopped thinking about it. Of course, I should tell him no. As much as I’m confused about which way to go when it comes to having a child, making one with Myles is asking for problems.
And yet the words don’t come to my lips.
“Okay. Shoot.”
“I have to take some leave next month. Will you be able to stand in for me?”
“Oh, right.” I frown. “Yeah, sure. Just send me the dates.”
He tips his head to the side. “Are you sure it’s okay?” he asks. “You seem… I don’t know, disappointed.”
I manage to collect myself. “Not at all. It’s just been a busy few days. Is that it, or do you have something else you want to talk to me about?”
He shakes his head. “That’s it.”
But what about your sperm? The words flash into my mind, and I try to push them away.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. “With your family problems?”
“Everything is fine, Ava.” He glances at his laptop screen. “And you? Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m good.” Is he goading me? I feel like I’m dancing on tiptoes around the elephant in the room.
Am I going to have to bring this up first?
Maybe I should walk away and pretend the offer on Friday night never happened.
Standing, I decide to do just that, and grab my laptop and notebook, then turn to head to the door.
But then I look back over my shoulder and he’s staring right at me. And damn it, I don’t want to walk away.
“Friday night, did you really say what I think you said?”
“What do you think I said?” he asks, his voice mild.
“You know.” I give him a pointed look.
The corner of his lip twitches. “Yes, I did.”
“And we’re not going to talk about it?” I ask him, clutching my laptop to my chest.
He stands and damn if my neck doesn’t have to crane just to keep eye contact. “I told you to think about it. I assumed you’re still thinking.”
“What if I have questions?”
He regards me coolly. “Then you can ask them, Ava. But not here.”
“Then where?”
“Somewhere that isn’t work. That isn’t an appropriate conversation for the office, is it?”
No it isn’t. And we all know the walls here don’t just have ears they have loud hailers, too. “Then where should we talk?”
“I could come to your place. Or you could come to mine?” he says.
The thought of being at his place talking about making a baby feels so… intimate. And I know that’s stupid because this is intimate. The only way it could be more intimate is if we actually did the deed.
And now I’m blushing.
“How about we walk and talk?” I suggest. “The evenings are beautiful right now, and if we meet before the sun goes down it’ll still be warm.”
“I still don’t know the city well.” He looks almost embarrassed. “Where should we meet?”
“How about we grab some food from a vendor and walk by the river,” I say. “It’s a pretty walk and there’s lots of history there, too.”
The hint of a smile crosses his lips. I feel my gaze lingering on them for too long.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” he says. “Where should I meet you?”
I show him the best parking lot on my phone and we agree to meet at seven. He’ll probably come straight from the office, but I’ll go home first. Mostly because it would be weird if I waited for him and we left the office together.
We don’t need everybody talking about us. This is hard enough.
“What food do you like?” he asks. “I’ll buy if I’m there first.”
I blink. “Tacos. But you don’t have to buy my food. It’s not a date.”
He looks at me for a moment, and my cheeks start to flame. Sometimes I hate my complexion. It’s like having a flashing banner saying ‘embarrassed person here.’
“I know it’s not a date,” he says calmly. “But if I’m possibly going to impregnate a woman, I’d at least like to buy her dinner first.”
He’s waiting for me when I arrive, and I try really hard not to ogle him as he stares out at the Kanawha River.
He’s still in his work clothes, but he’s taken off his jacket and tie, and his sleeves are rolled up to make the most of the evening warmth.
The glass of his watch flashes orange as it catches the setting sun.
He glances up and his gaze softens when it lands on me. He’s holding a paper bag and I know that there are two tacos in there. If my mom was here I’d be getting a lecture about going Dutch, but seriously, I like that he’s bought my dinner.
Even if this isn’t a date.
“Hi,” I say when I reach him.
“Hey.” He holds up the bag. “I bought dinner. Don’t kill me.”
“Wasn’t planning on it. Plus, tacos always put me in a good mood.”
“I wish I’d known that before.” He smiles and damn if my knees don’t shake a little. I swallow hard and try to not roll my eyes. Even my body is deserting me right now.
He glances at my hands. “Why are you shaking?”
“Because I’m nervous.” Nervous and thinking about how this is all so wrong. I should go home.
“Have a drink.” He pulls a bottle of soda from one of the bags, twisting the cap off and handing it to me. “Do you want to sit down?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m fine.” I swallow down a mouthful of liquid. Full of sugar, thank goodness. “I’m sorry, this is all so weird.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’ve never done this before either,” he says.
I look up at him, taking in his expression.
It’s still soft and kind and damn if that doesn’t make my legs shake all over again.
“I’m glad to hear that,” I say. “Shall we walk? We can eat when we find a good spot.” I’m hoping this conversation will be easier if I don’t actually have to look at him.
I’m not sure where this weird attraction has come from, but I can’t shake it off. Even worse, I’m not sure I want to.
“Sounds good to me.” He holds his elbow out, and I take it.
My fingers graze his bicep and it’s as hard as steel.
We start to walk along the riverbank path.
It’s made of concrete and there’s a grass bank that slopes down to the river.
It’s quiet here tonight, but sometimes you can barely move from all the people, especially on nights when they have concerts here.
“You okay now?” he asks.
“Getting there.”
He tips his head to the side. His profile is almost perfect, apart from a slight bump on his nose. I feel a weird compulsion to trace the line of it with my fingertip.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” he asks me.
“Be less intimidating?” I suggest.
He finally laughs, and it’s everything I thought it would be. The corners of his eyes crinkle, his cheeks lift, and I can see the whiteness of his teeth. Something twists inside of me, and I tell myself it’s just the thought that I might be able to have this man’s genes.
We reach the first sign with historical information on it. He glances at the words, taking them in. I don’t bother to read it; I’ve done this walk hundreds of times before. I know that this is where the first gas well was sited, and that the driller ended up creating an inferno.
“Interesting,” Myles murmurs.
“There are more of those little stories along the path if you’d like to read them.”
He tips his head to the side. “So how do you want to do this? You ask and I answer?”
So we’re back to it. A reminder that we’re not just here to enjoy the evening. I mean, I’m glad he’s not dancing around the issue, but I was just getting used to his company.
“Okay.” I nod, ignoring my disappointment. “That would work.”
“Go for it. Ask me anything you want.”
We start walking again. There’s a slight breeze in the air and it lifts the ends of his hair.
I take a deep breath. My chest feels tight. “Your offer,” I whisper. “Were you serious?”
“Yes.”
I wait for him to say more but he doesn’t. So this is how he’s playing it. I glance at him from the corners of my eyes.
“You’re willing to donate sperm to me?” Damn, it’s so weird saying it out loud.
“That’s what I offered,” he says mildly as we pass a copse of trees. “So yes.”
“And do you know if your sperm is…” I widen my eyes, trying to find the right words. “Good?”
He bites down a smile. “I haven’t had any complaints.”
I roll my eyes. “I thought you were trying to make this easy on me.”
The smile fades. “I’m sorry. And I am almost certain my sperm is good. I could schedule a checkup if that would make you feel better.”
“I’ll think about that. But I have more questions. Can I…”
He waves his hand for me to go ahead.
“Why would you do this for me?”
“Does there have to be an ulterior motive?” he asks, glancing at me. “Maybe I just want to do a good thing. You need something that I have. It feels like the right thing to do.”
“But are you willing to sign away your rights as a father?”
“If that would make you more comfortable, then yes.”
I blink. “If you don’t sign away your rights you’re leaving yourself wide open. I could chase you for child support. That would be crazy.”
“If you needed money I’d give it to you whether I had rights or not,” he tells me. “If you have a child that’s physically mine, it’s my obligation to make sure you’re both taken care of.”
My chest tightens. “But you know you’d have no right or expectation to do that. I could turn down your money.”
His lips curl. “I’m confused. Are you going to be chasing me for money or throwing me out for offering it?”
“I don’t know. But this is important. We need to agree on these things up front. Otherwise there’s every chance that things can go wrong.”
“Understood.” He nods. “I’ll ask my lawyer to draft something up. You get a lawyer and have them review it.” He glances at my mouth. “That’s if you want to go ahead.”
It’s another pivotal moment. Just like the one when I decided that I was actually going to do this alone. We stop walking and I look up at him.
“Won’t it feel strange?” I ask. “Knowing you have a child in the world that you have nothing to do with.”
He presses his lips together, and I realize how gloriously handsome he is. Especially when he’s not looking angry.
“I’ve thought about that,” he says. “Maybe you can keep me updated occasionally. Photographs, that kind of thing. And if you need anything you have to agree to ask. I know you don’t like being helped, but…” he trails off and takes a long breath. “If I can help I want to.”
“I never knew you could be altruistic,” I tell him.
The corner of his lip quirks. “Maybe I’m not being generous.
Maybe I want to know my existence isn’t futile.
Isn’t that what having children does? Continues your bloodline?
Gives you a little entry in the history of the world?
Maybe I’m the opposite of generous, seeing as I’m agreeing to have a baby then walking away. ”
He’s half smiling but there’s something in his words I don’t quite believe. “I can’t imagine walking away from a child that’s mine,” I whisper.
“I wouldn’t walk away if I didn’t know that child had an excellent mother. And I know that’s exactly what you’ll be.”
And there it is. The killer shot. I have no idea where this kind, caring version of Myles Salinger has come from or how long it’s here to stay, but I’m here for it.
The sun has almost met the horizon. Tiny lights sparkle from the boats floating on the river and in the buildings on the other side of the water.
I take a deep breath. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I ask him again. “Because from where I’m standing it’s a completely one sided agreement. I get everything I want and you get…” What does he get?
“It’s not one sided,” he tells me. “You were right the first time. I’m really not that altruistic.”
He’s lying. Because he’s getting nothing out of this at all. The nice girl inside me should feel bad but it’s outweighed by hormones and the desire to have my own child.
I’m going to have Myles Salinger’s baby. Seven words I’d never thought I’d utter. And yet here we are, talking about sperm and lawyers and ceding rights, and somehow it doesn’t seem so stupid at all.
“Okay then. Let’s do this.”
He nods. “Thank God. Can we eat now?”