Chapter Fourteen
Paige
I stretched languidly as I woke up. The sunlight was warm where it spilled across my body and the sheets, and I curled around a plush pillow for a moment, not ready to get up yet. Slowly, I became aware of the fact that I wasn't in my own bed. That should have been obvious since there was no way that I could ever afford pillows and sheets as soft as these.
I blinked myself few times, but it took me a moment to figure out where I was since I had never had a chance to take in what Michael's bedroom looked like. I smiled a little to myself as I finally put two and two together. Then, I glanced over at the clock on the wall and winced, realizing how late in the afternoon it was.
I slipped out of bed and grabbed my clothes, getting dressed. I frowned, wondering where Michael was. Surely he wouldn't have just left me there in his apartment, would he?
I grabbed my phone and fired off a text to him: Hey, sorry I overslept. Where are you?
The message I received in response was terse, and I hoped that he was just headed into a meeting or something, not that he was angry that I had overslept: At work. Left you a note.
I scanned the bedroom for the promised note and found it on the bedside table. Fortunately, it seemed like my worries were unfounded: he couldn't be too worried that I had slept over if he had invited me over again that night.
I wasn't sure how I felt about that, to be honest. I had to keep reminding myself that what we were doing was simply what we had to do to get me pregnant and uphold the things that we'd promised in the contract. If I had to keep reminding myself of that, I knew it was probably time to take a step back and forget about this for a moment. Otherwise, I was going to need that cookie dough ice cream that Erica had promised.
I winced just thinking about it. I might not believe in true love, but that didn't mean I didn't think love existed at all. I loved my parents dearly; which was part of why I went to those Sunday dinners every week. I just didn't expect to find it with Michael. Or rather, I didn't expect that he would find it with me.
I had to wonder if maybe I was in over my head.
My stomach growled noisily, and I grinned, making my way into the kitchen to cook myself some breakfast. I froze when I saw an older woman standing in the living room, and she froze as well, seeing me.
“Hello, dear,” the woman said, smiling broadly at me. “You must be Paige. Michael said you might still be here when I arrived today.” She shook hands with me. “My name is Rosa; I'm his maid.”
“Nice to meet you,” I said faintly.
“Let me cook you breakfast,” the woman said.
“That's okay,” I said, shaking my head. “I need to get home and get ready for work anyway.” I was probably already going to be late, and I winced, suddenly looking down at my phone, realizing that the missed texts had probably come from Erica, who no doubt had been trying to get a hold of me when I hadn't been at the apartment that morning.
“You can't go to work on an empty stomach,” Rosa cajoled. “Come on, I'll cook something quick. A breakfast wrap, maybe.”
“All right,” I finally allowed. I was going to need to fire off a couple texts to Erica anyway. “Some coffee would be nice, too.”
“Coming right up,” Rosa said, moving into the kitchen and setting to work.
I hopped up on one of the bar stools and watched her.
“So, will I be seeing more of you, Ms. Paige?” Rosa asked.
I gave a short laugh, wondering what Michael had told her about our relationship. “You might be,” I said. “Michael and I aren't serious, though.”
“That's a shame,” Rosa said, setting a mug of coffee in front of me. “I've been waiting a long time for Michael to find a woman who makes him smile. He's always such a recluse.”
I frowned. “He doesn't seem like a recluse to me,” I told her. “He's out at The Shift, the bar that I work at, at least once or twice a week, I think.”
“Hmm,” Rosa said, looking as though she was thinking. “Perhaps recluse isn't the word I want. But he holds his heart so close. You never know what he's thinking. He's so afraid to be let down that sometimes, I think he doesn't allow himself to feel anything at all.”
“That must be difficult,” I said, trying not to feel pity for the man. But what Rosa was saying was only confirming what I had suspected during the first conversation I'd had with him: he must be lonely. It made me want to give him a big hug. It also made me want to agree to come over again that night.
I couldn't go getting attached to him.
I took a sip of coffee to hide my silence and then turned to my phone. Sure enough, I had three texts from Erica. The first one was lewd and made me blush; the second one was merely inquisitive, asking when I thought I'd be home. The third text, sent just about an hour ago, seemed worried, and I decided I had better give her a call, especially since unless I wanted to go to work in yesterday's clothes, I was going to be late.
“I'm just going to call my roommate real fast,” I told Rosa, thankful for an excuse to end our uncomfortable conversation.
Rosa continued to cook while I wandered away towards those immense windows with their impressive view. I stared out over the city as I listened to the phone ring.
“Hey girl,” Erica said when she answered the phone. “You had me worried!”
“Sorry,” I said. “If you can believe it, I just woke up.”
“Oh wow,” Erica said. “I didn't realize sleeping over was part of the arrangement.”
“It's not,” I said shortly, thinking back to what Michael had said in his note about me staying over again that night. He had to realize that I couldn't do that, right?
“So you're still coming in to work, aren't you?” Erica asked. “It's Thirsty Thursday, and I don't know what we'd do without you.”
“I'm still coming in, but I might be a little late. I'm still in yesterday's clothes, so I need to run back to the apartment. Michael said I could shower here, and if I'd thought about it, I would have worn something neutral that I could just throw one of his shirts over. But I didn't realize that I was going to be staying over, so I didn't think this would be an issue.”
“Plus, that dress looked hot on you last night,” Erica said, a grin in her voice. “Don't worry about the clothes, though. Take a shower and come straight here; I've got you covered. When you didn't come home last night, I figured you'd be doing the walk of shame, and you've helped me out enough with that.”
“You're a lifesaver,” I said. “I might still be a little late because I'm just about to eat some breakfast”—Rosa was plating eggs, toast, and bacon for me as we spoke—“but I'll definitely be there. Sorry. It won't happen again.”
Erica laughed. “Girl, this is the first time you've ever been late,” she said. “I don't mind. Just don't make a habit of it, but I know you won't. See you soon.”
“See you soon,” I echoed.
I scarfed down the food that Rosa had prepared, hurried through a shower, and headed to the bar as quickly as I could. I was still about an hour late by the time I had changed clothes and fixed my makeup, but no one seemed to mind.
That evening was busy enough that it kept my mind off Michael's note. At least, it did until Michael and Chris showed up. I watched them warily for a little while, but they were down at Katie's end of the bar, and I didn't have to deal with them.
Chris was chatting up girls, just like usual, but Michael didn't seem the slightest bit interested in any of them. As Chris made his way across the bar with a girl on either arm, Michael suddenly got up and came around the bar, dropping onto a stool across from me, where I was wiping down glasses.
“Hey,” he said, looking uncertain.
I flashed him a quick grin. “Hey,” I said back. “Sorry, I'm not ignoring you, it's just that Thirsty Thursdays are one of the busiest nights of the week, and I feel bad since I was already late coming in today.”
Michael winced. “Sorry about that, I probably should have woken you up when I left, but you looked so peaceful.”
I blushed. “Thanks for letting me sleep,” I told him. “Last night really took it out of me.”
“You're welcome,” Michael said, smirking at me, and I had to grin in response.
“How was your day?” I asked.
“Well, believe it or not, I was late as well,” Michael said. “So Chris took it upon himself to cancel all of my meetings for the day, telling them all that I was feeling a bit under the weather. Kind of weird playing hooky in your office.”
I laughed. “Yeah, I can imagine,” I said. “Did you get a lot done?”
“Yeah, I did,” Michael said. “I did some research about a couple companies that I'm considering investing in, and I sent off some emails. Heard back from them and set up some meetings, so I think I'm on track to get those set up by the end of next month if they're worth investing in.”
“Oh, cool,” I said. “What kind of companies do you invest in?”
Michael shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “A lot of science companies, but some cultural organizations as well,” he told me. “You know, the kinds of things that will make a difference in the world.”
“You and your legacy,” I said, rolling my eyes, but I had to admit that I was kind of impressed by him. Not that I would say that out loud; I was sure that crossed some sort of boundary.
“So, are you coming home with me tonight?” Michael asked. He looked eager. Had he been waiting all day to hear back from me?
I blushed and ducked my head, focusing on the glass that was in my hands. “I don't think so,” I told him, risking a glance up at him. I wasn't sure, but I thought he looked disappointed. I frowned, wondering where that had come from. “Maybe some time this weekend.”
Michael stared at me for a long moment, looking as though it was on the tip of his tongue to say something. He probably wanted to remind me that we weren't sure yet if I was pregnant. To stress again how impatient he was to have an heir. To point out that there was the contract between us, and that I couldn't be having second thoughts now.
I swallowed hard and tried to focus on the glass in my hands. For some reason, I felt upset.
But Michael didn't say any of those things. Instead, he reached a hand toward me, resting it on the bar. It was enough to draw my eyes up towards his. “Okay,” he said softly, his voice impossibly gentle. “Sometime this weekend.”
“I have to get back to work,” I said, my emotions threatening to choke me.
“Okay,” Michael repeated. He turned back towards the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. But he didn't chat up the women like he normally would. Instead, he watched the sports channel that was on the TV closest to him for a while, and then, when it became clear that Chris wasn't going anywhere unless it was home with the girl to his left, Michael got up and left alone.
I didn't know why that made me as happy as it did. Or rather, I had an idea of why, but I didn't want to examine that too closely.