Chapter 61

If only people were so sane.

After a fun date of delicious food and ignoring Mr. Czarn’s quiet pressure to let him buy everything, I stepped out of his car and looked up the stairwell to see, on the top, someone was sitting outside my door, and that someone had ginger hair.

I dropped back into the car.

“Nevermind,” I said.

“He’s there?”

“Yes, why aren’t you as surprised as me? And get driving before he sees us.”

Mr. Czarn eased on the gas and pulled back out onto the street. “That’s because you don’t see yourself like everyone else does. Frankly, I wouldn’t be too opposed to sitting outside your door if I thought it would keep you in my life.”

I gaped at him. “You’re not supposed to admit those kinds of things. Stop ruining the James Bond mask more than you already have!”

He purposely flashed me his practiced, debonair smile, and I found myself giggling despite the cramping unease coiling around my lungs.

“How long do you think he’ll be waiting?” I asked.

“I don’t know him well enough to say, but I—”

“Don’t finish that sentence. I don’t want to know.”

He chuckled. “Yes, sweetie.”

“Do you think if we got a genetic test, it would speed things up? I read that you can get genetic tests with some amniotic—”

“No,” he said quickly.

I pouted at him. The car had stopped at a red light, and in the window behind him, I saw a little old lady pulling back her rabid Chihuahua from mauling a middle school kid, who was too involved with his phone to care.

“Why no?”

“You’re already high risk as it is. Stabbing a needle into your back just to get some amniotic fluid could trigger labor, and if he’s determined enough, he’ll just say you’re faking it so you can get with the rich guy.”

Couldn’t argue with that.

“Must be hard finding true love with that price tag on you,” I said.

“You have no idea.”

The little old lady was having quite some trouble getting herself and her dog across the street until the middle school kid looked up, realized the light was red, and started walking across. Made me wonder what in the world he had on him. Maybe an opened jerky stick in his pocket?

“Maybe you should just give in and find yourself a trophy wife like the other billionaires.”

“Why, when I have you?”

I cocked my head to give him a wry look down my nose. “Oh? I’m not trophy wife material?”

“Material, yes. Mentality, no.” The light turned green, and he pressed forward, his ears rising a bit with the strength of his smile. “And you didn’t say no.”

“That was not a proposal.”

“And if it was?”

Jokes aside, now I was irritated. If there was something wrong with this man outside of his soggy French toast, it was his inability to take things slow.

“We’ve had one date, buster,” I said. “In this day and age, you need more than that to decide whether or not to get married.”

“You could consider when we met at the club to be our first date.”

“No.”

“I’m just teasing, Alaina.”

“No, you’re not.”

He didn’t refute that. His smile, however, did go away.

Perhaps I was being high-strung. Okay, yeah, I was, but I think I had every right to, seeing my track history and all the red flags hanging off his back. Granted, many of those red flags didn’t exist for most women, but I wasn’t most women. The majority is not smart or wise. I couldn’t just follow the crowd and expect to find happiness that way.

We talked more in-depth about what to do about the ginger hanging outside my house, and I finally gave in to the suggestion of staying at his place, at least until Joshua was convinced to leave my apartment alone. I even considered giving him my number so he could annoy me that way, as it would be easier to ignore. Mr. Czarn said it would only encourage him, so I reluctantly agreed. The three-headed shower may have played some part in that decision. What can I say? I’m a simple woman of simple pleasures.

Thus, I found myself back in the guest room with my bags of maternity clothes. It wasn’t too bad of a setup, I finally admitted to myself. Yeah, it wasn’t within distance of the dance lab at the university, but maybe if I explored the house a bit, I could find an empty space of hardwood to use. Mr. Czarn had to have something of a music player around his place, right? Maybe it would even be better than my living room, so I’d have more room for my morning warm-ups.

I was just considering how I would word asking Mr. Czarn for a dance space when the door, which had been cracked open behind me, gently tapped against the wall as someone entered.

I smelled him before I saw him, and no, it wasn’t an assassin.

“Missing me already, Mr. Czarn?”

“I thought I’d see how you liked the room and if there was anything else I could get to make your stay more comfortable.”

Oh gall, if it got more comfortable than this I might just die or have every place I ever lived at after this ruined for the rest of my life. Seriously, spoiling really did ruin you.

“I do have a doctor’s appointment on Monday,” I said, which reminded me. “Oh! The picture!”