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I grimace.Cutecan usually be replaced bypathetic. “Yeah, thanks. Hopefully, she’ll start thinking the same one of these days.”
“Pffft.” Sadie’s gaze traces the length of my body, the appreciation in her gaze not quite extinguished. “How could she resistyou?”
I laugh as I run a hand through my sweaty hair. A sticky residue coats my palm when it falls back to my side. “She’s actually quite good at it.”
“Have you told her how you feel? Just straight-up asked her out?”
“Uh … it’s complicated.”
Sadie rolls her eyes. “Guysalwayssay that. Just tell her you like her. How complicated can it be?”
“Well …”
She’s my sister’s friend.
She works for me.
She’s having my baby.
“It’s complicated,” I repeat.
“Okay. Whatever. If you need advice, you know where to find me.”
I smile. “Thanks, Sadie.”
“And if you get over this mystery girl, you know where to find me.” She winks again.
I huff a laugh and shake my head. Sadie’s flirted with me at every opportunity since she moved into this building at the start of the summer. But it never progressed beyond banter. I just bought this penthouse, and I don’t want to move anytime soon.
“Bye, Sadie.”
“Bye, Kit.” She drops her hand, and the doors slide shut.
I got ready for work in record time and step inside the building at seven forty-five. The lobby is empty. So is the first elevator that arrives.
Maya, who sits at the front desk, shoots me a bright smile as I approach. “Good morning, Mr. Kensington.”
I smile back, shoving the niggling nerves down as far as I can. I spent all weekend dying to talk to Collins, and now that the moment is almost here, I’m racked with anxiety and terrified I’ll fuck this conversation up.
“Good morning, Maya.”
I continue down the hallway, passing empty offices and desks, running through the list of questions I prepared about doctor’s appointments and custody arrangements and?—
She’s not here.
I check my watch and curse under my breath. It’s five of eight.
After depositing my briefcase by my desk, I head into the break room. I’m halfway through making Collins a coffee when I remember one of the pregnancy sites I browsed this weekend mentioned limitingcaffeine intake.
I dump the coffee, brew her an herbal tea instead, and leave it on her desk before returning to mine.
My attempts to answer emails are pathetic. My gaze veers to the clock at the top of the computer repeatedly, literally watching the minutes tick by. I left my door open so I can see when she arrives.
Eight fifteen.
Eight thirty.
At eight forty-five, I accept she’s not showing up early.