Page 96 of Size King

“Yeah, it’s okay,” she says. “The new gig will start soon, and after maternity leave, I’ll go right back to normal. They’re good people. I doubt they’re totally done with me yet.”

“Well, you could’ve had work now, but instead, you’re pregnant from my very potent sperm,” I point out. “I feel bad. It’s partially my fault.”

“Maybe, but I’m not mad at you or anything,” she assures me. “It happens. I’m not dwelling on it.”

“I love you,” I say again.

“I love you too,” she reciprocates. “Do you have to work today?”

“I’ve got an operations manager that handles the actual deliveries now, so no,” I reply. “I’m on call, but I don’t get calls that often.”

“You should try and spread Dunn Deliveries over to L.A.,” she suggests. “You’d make a fortune.”

“Nah, I think I’d get killed,” I observe. “GrubHub and Postmates kind of have the L.A. market cornered as far as deliveries go.”

“That sucks because there are alotof places you could deliver from that would probably do business with you.”

“You’re very right,” I agree. “I don’t think I’d see a profit in L.A. for at least a few years, though. I don’t think I could afford to live here in this house.”

“Oh, that’s even worse,” she backtracks.

“Besides, I’m kind of thinking about exiting the delivery business anyway,” I admit. “If I got to do what I really wanted, then I could probably sell Dunn Deliveries or liquidate it.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I’d like to open a small café here in town,” I say.

“No kidding!” she says, smiling. “What kind?”

“Just a regular, quaint place that serves a variety of meals all day,” I answer. “I wanted to wait and open it when I’d saved enough money from my business. Real estate in town isn’t cheap, and I’d want savings while I’m spending lots of money establishing a new café.”

“That’s so cool!” she says. “Do you like cooking or baking? Did you want a café because you have a major passion for food?”

“I do like food, but I mostly like running a business,” I reply. “I like cafés I think they have a charm that a lot of restaurants don’t seem to have these days.”

“We’ll get our dream home later,” she says with definiteness. “Open your café, make some money, andthenwe’ll build our house together—the baby can help, too.”

“Right.” I laugh. “Hey, did you find out if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

“No, I won’t know that for another month at least,” she answers.

“I’ll bet it’s a boy,” I predict.

“What makes you think that?”

“Call it a hunch. I’ll bet it’s a healthy baby boy, and I’ll bet we name him something epic-sounding like Augustus or Socrates.”

“I have names in mind,” she says.

“Oh yeah? Let’s hear them!”

“No, I’m afraid you’ll hate them,” she says, hiding her face in the covers.

“If I’m going to hate them, I might as well hear them now, right?” I say, pulling the covers off her face. “Why wait and make me wonder for something silly?”

“Well,” she says meekly. “If it’s a girl, I like the name Isabella.”

“I like that name, too!” I say genuinely. “I like it a lot.Isabella. Isabella Fellows. I like it.”