Page 91 of About that Fling
“That’s the plan. You’ve got a birthing class at three?”
“Yeah, my last one. Mark and I are going out to dinner afterward. We got a table at Gerlake for the anniversary of when we first moved to Portland.”
“No kidding?” Reservations at Portland’s only Michelin star restaurant were notoriously tough to come by.
“We ate there together when I came out to interview for the job.” Mia’s voice misted with the memory. “Mark practically had to sell a kidney to get us in that night, but it was worth it.”
“You must have booked tonight’s reservation ages ago?”
“More than a year.” She sounded so wistful and earnest. “God, that feels like a lifetime ago. Back before we got pregnant and started bickering and I had to work with my idiot ex every day.”
Jenna’s gut churned. “Not to mention having a pubescent pre-teen on your hands.”
“Right?” Mia sighed.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll be romantic.”
“I hope so. It’s hard to feel romantic when you’re thirty-eight weeks pregnant and threatened by your husband’s relationship with his ex-wife, but I’m doing my best.”
“That’s all anyone can ask, right?”
“Right. If you’re home before I leave for birthing class, maybe we can have coffee? Fucking decaf, of course.”
“Deal. Thanks again for all your help, Mia. I really owe you.”
“Don’t mention it, babe. Have fun with your old roommates.”
“I will,” Jenna said, gulping back a fresh surge of guilt.
On Monday afternoon, Adam pulled Jenna’s car up beside his rental car in the parking garage at his hotel. He turned in the driver’s seat and looked at her. God, he could never get tired of doing that.
“Thank you for going with me this weekend,” he said. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I was honored to be part of it.” She brushed the hair from her eyes and looked deep into his. “Your family is amazing.”
“I know they’d love to see you next month for the memorial service. A lot of the East Coast relatives will be making the trip. Maybe if things keep going like they are between us?—”
He stopped, recognizing the alarm in her eyes. “What?”
“Nothing.” She bit her lip. “It’s just that we’re back to reality now, right? Back in Portland, back to real life.”
“Right,” he said, not entirely sure what she was saying.
She touched his hand, the warmth of her fingers a marked contrast to the chill of her words. “We’re still working together, Adam. For several more weeks, possibly months. As far as I know, this is still against company policy.”
“Of course.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Maybe in a few weeks.”
“Maybe,” she agreed, not meeting his eyes. “I should go. Mia has a birthing class at three, and I told her I’d try to get there before she leaves so we can have a cup of coffee and catch up.”
“Tell her hi for me.”
“Uh—”
He grimaced. “Sorry, force of habit. Kinda like when you called me Shawn in bed last night.”
Her eyes went wide, and he watched the color rise in her cheeks. “I did not!”
He laughed and squeezed her hand. “Did too. Right at the moment you arched your back and?—”
