Page 124 of Anti-Hero

“Want to see what I’ve done with the place?”

In response, Arthur enters the office. Kit follows his grandfather inside and shuts the door.

He wasn’t exaggerating about his grandfather’s demeanor. But Arthur stopping by doesn’t seem meaningless.

I stand, grab my empty mug off the desk, and head toward the break room for a fresh cup of tea. While I’m waiting for more water to boil, I walk over to the windows that line the exterior wall. Like the ones in Kit’s office, they offer an impressive view of the skyline.

It’s snowing, fluffy flakes drifting down from the sky. There isn’t any accumulation on the street, but up here, it feels like standing in a snow globe. I watch the flakes fall, wondering how Kit’s conversation with his grandfather is going.

Maybe he’ll tell me later.

Probably not.

Ever since our trip to New Haven, things between me and Kit have reverted to professional. As soon as the sun rose and we were back in the city, my fears reset. I remembered that I have to work with Kit every day, focusing on spreadsheets and calendars and important deals worth tens of millions of dollars. I remembered that the small bump I’m sporting is going to become a living, breathing human being that’s relying on me to not mess up.

I want Kit to be this kid’s dad. I’mgratefulhe’s this kid’s dad.

I’m scared I’ll do something to ruin my relationship with him, and it’ll affect our child in some negative way. And I’m scared I’ll do something to ruin my relationship with him, and it will ruinme.

It was so easy toleapthat night at my parents’. To admit I wanted him. To show I wanted him. To forget all the complications and pretend it was that night in the Hamptons again. To be selfish and to take exactly what I wanted.

I don’t regret it. And I meant what I told Kit—Iwantto date him.

But it’s not that simple. I wish it were.

The electric kettle shuts off. I fix myself a fresh cup of chamomile and return to my spot by the windows. Stare outside, savoring the peaceful scene for a few more seconds before I go back to staring at a screen.

“Stella said Arthur Kensington is here?” Margot appears next to me, peering out at the snow. “Wow. It’s really coming down.”

“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “And, yeah, he is. He’s in Kit’s office right now.”

“Heis? I thought Stella was hallucinating.”

“He is,” I confirm.

“Well, that’s interesting. Sanborn said he hasn’t been here in years. Decades. Do you know what he’s doing here?”

“No clue,” I reply, stirring my spoon in my tea.

Margot glances at my abdomen. “You’re showing a little.”

I make a face. “I know.”

Friday is my final day, and I couldn’t be cutting it much closer. Sucking my stomach in isn’t really cutting it anymore. Chunky sweaters are the main reason everyone isn’t suspecting what Margot knows.

“If you hadn’t told me, I wouldn’t have … it’s notverynoticeable.”

I laugh. “Convincing. Thanks.”

“Seriously, how are you feeling?”

I glance over my shoulder, making sure we’re still alone. “Better. Physically at least. No more nausea and vomiting. But emotionally? Each week, I’m getting closer to the wholehaving a babypart, and that’s … terrifying.”

“How’s baby daddy dealing?”

“He’s great. He’s …” I exhale. “It seems like nothing fazes him, and that’s reassuring. It also makes me feel a little crazy sometimes. Like, why am I panicking about every little thing and he’s just … steady? Also, I kissed him.” I take a hasty sip of my tea, wincing when my tongue registers how hot it is.

“That’s norm—wait, what? You kissed him?”

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