CHAPTER NINE
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“Jessie.” Meg’s voice was stern. “Not nice, young lady. Now go over and apologize.”
Jessie’s face fell but she walked slowly over to the swing and regarded her classmate with a frown and a pout. “I’m sorry, Patrick.” Then, with a whirl of her skirt she turned and headed back toward her mother.
Not a very gracious apology but one Meg would have to let slide right now. Just that week she’d signed Jessie up for private piano lessons and today was the first class. If they didn’t move quickly they’d be late. And for a class that lasted only half an hour they definitely couldn’t afford to be late.
They made it to the class with five minutes to spare, thank goodness. While Jessie went to music room number three to plunk away at the piano, Meg settled herself in the most comfortable seat in the parents’ waiting area, a big fat armchair, and pulled out her Kindle ereader. She hadn’t finished that romance novel she’d started so long ago. Right now at least she could squeeze in the half hour Jessie’s piano lesson would last.
For the last three weeks she’d been working hard on Drake’s project, determined to finish within the deadline she’d set herself. The contract said up to six months but she wanted to prove to herself that she could do it in four. And besides, she didn’t want to prolong her professional relationship with Drake. She was dying to make love to him again but they’d both agreed that they should postpone any further intimate contact until they could openly start seeing each other. Before that could happen the project would have to end. And the wait was killing her…or at least it felt like it. Thank goodness she was on the last lap. She’d already submitted her second draft and was now doing the final pass before presenting Drake with the official manuscript.
Yes, for the good of her sanity, this project would have to wrap up very soon. Because how could you concentrate on something so mundane as a business memoir when your breath caught in your throat every time those gorgeous gray eyes rested on you? And how could you take notes when all you wanted to do was flick the pen away and reach over and slide your fingers through that thick, dark-blond hair? And how in heaven’s name could you act cool and collected when the secretary came in to offer you tea, when all you wanted was to shove her boss back onto the sofa and kiss him till he begged for mercy?
Meg shook her head, bringing herself back to the present. She glanced at the clock. Jessie’s half hour was almost up and she hadn't got past the page she’d started on. It looked like she was destined never to finish this novel. Oh, well…
The following week there was a stall in Meg’s plan. She and Drake were to have had a final meeting before she prepared her complete package – hard and soft copies of the memoir and a return of the tape recordings and notes. Where and when it was published was up to Drake. Once Meg submitted her package she would be free.
She’d been counting on catching an April fifteen date but it was not to be. Drake ended up having to leave for a week on business, delaying the project past her four month mark. There was nothing to do but wait.
But that weekend, days before Drake was to return, Meg was at the department store shopping with Jessie when a thought crossed her mind. When was the last time she’d had her period?
Her heart jerked. She started digging in her bag for her pocket agenda and flipped immediately to the calendar at the back. She’d always been regular, had never been more than a day or two late. But now? She rubbed her forehead as she checked the days. Dear Lord, let her be wrong. Maybe it had come last month and she’d been so busy she’d forgotten?
“Mommy, can I get this baby bubble bath? It smells like strawberries.” Jessie held up a teddy bear shaped bottle, cutting into Meg’s thoughts.
“Not now, Jessie.” Meg ran her fingers along the little boxes on the page, counting the days. Then she looked up and her eyes glazed over as she stared straight ahead. Holy goodness. Holy Jeez. She was late by all of sixteen days. How the heck had she missed that?
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Jessie’s plaintive wail brought Meg back to the present. Hands trembling, she returned the tiny book to her bag and took her daughter’s hand. “I’m sorry, honey. Mommy…was just a little distracted. Let’s go pay for our stuff and then we’ll get something to eat.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Jessie looked up at her with huge eyes, almost as if she knew something had gone wrong.
And a lot had. Because there was no way she could tell Drake Duncan he was going to be a daddy.
******
What the hell was going on? This was the third message Drake had left on Meg’s cell phone and still she had not returned his call. Could she be out of town? He glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Eleven thirty-seven. No, he could not call again. Definitely not at this hour.
He’d been back in Chicago one day now but it felt like a week because he'd been in the same city with Meg a whole day and still had not seen her. She’d become so important in his life that he would be with her every day if he could.
He lay back in the pillows and folded his arms behind his head. He would just have to be patient. They had their final meeting scheduled for tomorrow and, feeling like a schoolboy with a crush, he could hardly wait.
But the next day ended up being one of the strangest of Drake’s life. One o’clock finally came and Meg walked into his office looking elegant and composed as she always did. But this time there was something different about her. She’d greeted him warmly, giving him a smile and a nod but she seemed distant, even cool. It was as if that night they’d shared had never happened.
When she handed him his final package he’d expected jubilation, maybe a celebration, but not this aloofness that had him frowning and practically scratching his head. Then when she got up to leave and he walked her to the door as he’d done so many times before, she dropped her eyes and dipped her head, hiding her face from view but not before he’d seen an expression that made him pause. She’d almost looked like she wanted to cry.