Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“I’m on my way.”
“I’ll let the doorman know to expect you,” she tells me. “He’ll bring you up.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” I say, knowing from experience that I can get a rideshare fairly quickly at this time of night.
“Thank you.” The distinctive sound of her taking a deep breath follows. “See you soon.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Delia
As soon as Donovan steps into the foyer of my penthouse, I thank the doorman and shut the door.
I tip well, and often, so I didn’t see the need to do it now. I’m a bundle of nerves and it’s not because I’m worried that Matthew will circle back around and catch his boss here.
It’s the middle of the night so I’m confident he’s tucked into bed next to his fiancée.
“Your home is beautiful, Delia.”
For a very long, I wanted to answer that by saying that it’s not my home. I’ve been here for many years and in may ways it still feels that way, but I’m learning to accept the gifts that Grace gave to me and I don’t just mean the tangible things.
She encouraged me to give myself space to find my destiny.
I am almost there in terms of my professional path and I think I’m there personally, too.
“Thank you,” I say. “Are you hungry?”
He lets out a low chuckle. “I kind of am.”
“I have leftover spaghetti I can warm up,” I offer. “There’s cheesecake, too, although I’ve already eaten two slices of that.”
“All of that sounds great.”
“Is water okay to drink?” I ask. “I don’t have any beer or wine or anything like that here. I think I have some juice.”
“Water suits me fine.”
I take a step back from where we’ve been standing next to each other in the foyer. Even though it’s the middle of the night, I changed twice before he got here, finally settling on a pair of black yoga shorts and a purple T-shirt.
Just as I’m turning to start toward the kitchen, Donovan reaches for my hand. “I’ll always be here for you. I meant what I said, Delia. Whenever you need me, I want you to call. Whether it’s day or night…just like you did tonight.”
I test the waters of the conversation I want to have with him. “Even after the baby arrives?”
His entire face lights up with a smile. He’s so seriously good-looking that it’s striking. It’s impossible not to stare at him. “Did you take a test?”
“No,” I answer while squeezing his hand. “If I am pregnant, I’ll be able to reach out night or day?”
He stares into my eyes. His brow furrows slightly, but he answers without any hesitation, “I’ll always be here for both of you. I’m never that far away, Delia. Whether I’m at home or at work.”
That’s comforting and lessens the uncertainty that has taken hold of me since I realized I may be pregnant, but I’m feeling something else too.
We’ve always been clear that our relationship is based on fun, but a part of me wonders what it would be like to raise this baby as a couple.
“Let’s eat and talk,” he suggests, breaking my train of thought.
I nod and without saying another word, I start toward my kitchen.
Donavan finishes the last of the spaghetti in his bowl. “Martina Calvetti is untouchable.”
I smile because I agree. I’ve been frequenting Calvetti’s for years, dating back to my high school days. I’m still stunned that Matt thinks I never indulged in the spaghetti. I’m sure I’ve sampled every single dish on the menu, including several more than once.
“She is.” I nod. “So is Nicholas Wolf.”
He laughs. “You caught me staring at that book on the counter.”
I jerk a thumb in the direction he’s referring to. “How could I not? You were in a trance I think.”
“I was,” he admits. “That’s Blurred Consequence, Delia. The book isn’t set for release for another two months.”
“I know.” I’m still a bundle of nerves inside but talking about anything other than the six pregnancy tests in my tote bag in the foyer is helping keep me somewhat calm. “His sister gave me that copy the other day.”
“You’re damn lucky.”
He’s right but it has nothing to do with the book. I’m lucky because I’m sitting in my home with a man who might be the father of my baby and he’s mature and kind.
“I can read you a little of it,” he offers.
I want that very much but I want something else more.
“Maybe later,” I say. “I think I’m ready to take a test.”
He pushes back to stand. “Where should I be when you do that?”
I search his face for more understanding but come up empty since the only thing I see is concern for me. “What do you mean, Donovan?”
“I want to be here with you when you take it,” he tells me. “If that’s what you want. If you want me to take off, I’ll go, but only as far as the lobby. I know I’ll need to sit until you share the news.”