“Yeah, and they’re hanging on the walls that Drew paid for.”
He rolls his eyes and marches across the hardwood floor to answer the studio phone that’s ringing on the front desk. “Hello?…No comment.” He hangs up.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody.” He unbuttons the sleeves of his fitted navy blue dress shirt and begins rolling them up on his way back over to me. “Some stupid reporter.”
“What were they asking about?”
He drops his head to the side and gives me a dubious look.
“Well, obviously, but I meant specifically. What did they want to know about me this time?”
“Your due date.”
I choke on my coffee, spitting a little bit of it on Bas’s shirt. “Sorry!” I say, pulling my hand to my mouth.
He flares his nostrils and wipes his front buttons with the inside of his wrist. “I assume you don’t have anything to tell me.”
“Of course not!” I shriek and grab my phone.
I Google Sam’s name.
Sam Cole expecting first child with artist girlfriend.
Sam Cole’s girlfriend pregnant with ex’s baby.
“Uhh!” I huff, and keep reading.
Sam Cole trapped by unexpected pregnancy with girlfriend from his past.
Sam Cole and Lucy Bennett to marry this Christmas.
I look at Bas and start laughing hysterically.
The corners of his mouth turn down as he watches me. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say over the giggles that are bubbling out of me like a pot boiling over. “It’s so…stupid.” I laugh harder.
Bas starts laughing too. “After all these years, you finally trapped him.”
“It was my master plan all along.”
“And now you’re having Drew’s baby!”
I gasp for air in between wails of laughter and wipe my eyes, but the tears keep coming, and before I know it, I’m actually crying.
“Oh, honey,” Bas says, squeezing my hand. “I told you not to read that crap.”
“I finally got my big break with my exhibit and now everything I’ve worked for could be overshadowed by a bunch of lies. They shouldn’t be allowed to write that stuff. And now they’re talking about Drew? It’s one thing if my career is ruined, but I’d never forgive myself if this affects Drew’s. He’s one of the hardest-working people I know. He shouldn’t be a newsflash.”
“Neither should you.”
I nod softly and wipe my eyes. “I’m just glad they’re not hanging outside the studio anymore.”
“Look, I’ll make you a deal. You promise not to Google yourself or Sam, and I promise to keep you abreast of any rumors worthy of a good laugh.” He sticks out his pinky. “Okay?”
“Okay.” I wrap my pinky around his and he gives it a shake.
“Now, more importantly. Have you found a dress for LA yet?”
“No, but I still have a couple of weeks. I’d like to get my stuff unpacked at Sam’s first.”
“Sweetie, you live there now. Stop calling it Sam’s. And why haven’t you unpacked yet? It’s been days.”
“A week actually. And I don’t know. It just doesn’t feel like home yet. It feels like I’m sleeping over or something, at a really nice hotel.”
Bas holds his clean-shaven chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Maybe because you’re living in an episode of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous.”
“I know, right? It’s weird. There’s too much space, and everything’s so perfect.”
“Well, would Sam care if you changed some things around?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, maybe you could start with a picture frame,” he says seriously, and it makes me laugh. “Surely you took some pictures in Exuma.”
I raise a mischievous eyebrow. “Perhaps.”
Bas rolls his eyes. “One you could display in your living room.”
I grin and pull up my pictures, and start scrolling through them. “What about this one?” I show him one I took of me and Sam on the beach with the turquoise water as our backdrop.
“That one’s great. Now frame it and put it in your living room.”
“Okay. I will.” I put my phone down and follow him to the back of the studio. “Speaking of LA, are you sure you can’t come?”
“As much as I like watching the Lucy-Sam saga unfold, I have my own love life to tend to. It’s our anniversary that weekend, remember?”
“Oh, that’s right. Speaking of your love life, how are things on the baby front?”
“For the time being, we aren’t talking about it.”
“How’s that working out?”
“It’s basically me not talking about it and Paul leaving adoption pamphlets on every surface in our apartment, like breadcrumbs.”
“Have you read any of them? Maybe you’ll find something in one that’ll make you feel better about everything.”
“On principle alone, no.”
“Sebastian.”
“Look, I’m not ready to be a parent, okay? And I honestly don’t know when or if I ever will be.”
“Have you told Paul that?”
“And crush his dreams? No way.”
“Sebastian, you have to tell him. You can’t just not talk about it.”
“I know. He’s taking me on a weekend getaway for our anniversary. Maybe after some relaxation, and a few drinks, I can bring it up.”
“Where’s he taking you?”
“I don’t know.” He twists his pen back and forth between his fingers. “Hopefully not Florida.”
“Why? What’s wrong with Florida?”
“Paul’s family. His mother, specifically.”
“Oh, Sebastian, she can’t be that bad.”
“Let’s just say she’s no Janice Christiansen,” he says, biting the end of his pen.
I roll my eyes. “One is enough.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider your choice? I’d put up with Drew if meant we got to keep Janice.”
“Sebastian.”
“Ugh,” he groans, and plops down onto one of the floor pillows. “I’m going to miss her. I should have known she was too fabulous to be true.”
“She wasn’t so fabulous yesterday,” I say, sitting down next to him with my laptop.
“Well, what did you expect? You broke her heart—I mean, her son’s heart.” He smirks and sips his coffee.
“Yeah, well, as much as I hate to admit it, I’m going to miss her too. She was the closest thing I’ve had to a mother since I was little. Probably the closest I’ll ever get.”
He puts his hand over mine and drops his chin. “What I said before was shitty. I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I ask curiously.
“Paul’s mom isn’t that bad. She actually gives really good skincare advice.”
I laugh softly and give him an adoring smile. “So do you.”
He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “So what you’re saying is that…I’m the new Janice?”