Chapter Sixteen
Paige
When Michael suggested that I come inside and sleep over again, I hesitated, not sure if I should. I had been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days. I knew we had the contract between us, but he seemed as though he cared about me. I wondered how deep those feelings went. In any case, I didn't particularly want to go home to my lonely bed. I had slept so well the last time, with Michael holding me, and I craved another of those nights.
So I followed him upstairs.
As before, he led me down the hall to his bedroom, but this time, he didn't pounce on me the minute we walked through the door. Instead, he slowly began to strip, his eyes on me. I felt the faintest trace of arousal, watching him do that, but I interrupted all those thoughts with a jaw-cracking yawn.
Michael laughed. “I think it's someone's bedtime,” he commented.
I stretched widely. “I can't help it,” I said. “I routinely stay up so late for work, but two orgasms with you and I feel totally boneless.”
“Good,” Michael said, his eyes going dark for a moment. But then, he yawned as well, looking sheepish. “Well, I don't routinely stay up this late for work, so it's definitely time for me to go to bed.” He folded his clothes and put them in the hamper, and I folded my skirt and shirt and put them on top of the dresser, carrying just my phone over to the bed and putting it down on the bedside table.
I slipped into bed with my panties on, and Michael followed suit in his boxer briefs. He rolled towards me, putting an arm around me. “Mm, good night,” he murmured against the back of my neck.
I paused and then blurted out the question that I wanted to ask him. “Would you come to dinner with me at my parents' house tomorrow?” I felt Michael stiffen, and I hurried to explain. “My mother's been hounding me for a while, worried that I'm not in a real relationship yet. If she finds out that I've gotten pregnant, she's going to be worried if she doesn't think there's a guy in the picture. If they met you, though, it would ease her mind. I'm not asking for a long-term commitment from you, nothing like that. It just would make things so much easier for me.”
Michael was silent for a long moment, and I began to regret asking. But finally, he sighed, his breath hot against my skin. “I suppose that's the least that I can do for you,” he said. “All right.”
“Thank you,” I said, finding his hand where it rested against the sheets in front of me. “That means a lot.”
The next morning when I woke up, Michael was in the kitchen, humming away to something on the radio. He looked startled and slightly guilty when I walked in. “Was I making too much noise?” he asked.
I grinned at him. “Believe it or not, I don't always sleep until the middle of the afternoon,” I told him.
He grinned back at me and eyed the shirt that I was wearing. “You look good in my T-shirt,” he said, and I could practically see the gears turning in his head.
My stomach growled, and I laughed. “No sex before breakfast,” I told him. “Or brunch, as the case may be.”
“Fair enough,” Michael said, dishing out plates.
“I thought you had Rosa for this,” I told him.
“She cooks a lot of the time,” Michael said, nodding. “But Sunday is her day off. And I like cooking anyway. It's relaxing.”
“Oh,” I said, taking a bite of my eggs Benedict, impressed with how perfectly poached they were. “Wow, this is tasty.”
“I'm glad you like it,” Michael said. “Eggs Benedict was always one of my favorites growing up, but I only ever got it when my dad was home since it was his favorite dish too. But he wasn't home very often.”
“I can't even imagine growing up like that,” I said, shaking my head. “My parents were almost always there. We still have these Sunday night dinners every week, and I'm expected to be and never miss. I think Mom would ask for a doctor's note if I told her I couldn't attend one week, that's how serious it is.”
Michael laughed. “I can't imagine that,” he said. “My parents were hardly ever around. I was raised mostly by nannies and tutors. I mean, I had everything that I could possibly want, don't get me wrong. Except there wasn't a lot of love in our house.”
I frowned. “You don't plan to raise your child like that, do you?” I asked, putting a hand protectively over my stomach, even though I didn't know if there was a baby in there or not. “I know it's none of my business, but I don't want to think of bringing a child into this world for such a heartless upbringing.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth immediately after I'd said it, feeling embarrassed. “That's not to say that your parents were heartless or that you would be as well, if that's what you're planning,” I told him quickly.
“It's okay,” Michael said, shaking his head. “That's not how I plan to bring up our child. My child.” He looked embarrassed at having let that “our” slip. Because of course, it wouldn't be our child. It was his.
I felt a pang in my heart at the very thought of that, but I chose to ignore it.
That night, I brought him to my parents' house to introduce him. I called ahead to warn Mom that I was bringing a guest, but I didn't specify who it was or what gender, and I hoped she assumed I just meant I was bringing Erica with me finally.
When she saw Michael, I thought her eyes were going to pop out of her skull.
“Mom, this is Michael,” I said, giving her a stern look that told her to behave herself.
“Michael, nice to meet you,” Mom said, ignoring his proffered hand and going instead for a hug that Michael awkwardly returned. “It's such a shame that Holly can't be here tonight. I'm sure she would have loved to meet you.”
Michael raised an eyebrow at me, and I blushed furiously. “Mom, why don't Michael and I go set the table?” I suggested. When it was just Michael and me in the dining room, I bit my lower lip. “Sorry about that,” I told him. “She's enthusiastic. And Holly's my younger sister. She can get out of dinners because she's basically perfect.”
“And you think you're not?” Michael asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I can't remember the last time I saw my mother hug someone. In fact, I'm not sure I've ever seen her hug someone.”
“Oh just wait,” I told him. “You're not getting out of here without at least two more hugs. She's probably going to make you take all the leftovers home with you too, so I hope you like whatever it is she's making.”
“Linguini with clam sauce, and homemade garlic bread,” Dad supplied, entering the room. He shook hands with Michael. “Good to meet you, son,” he said. “Paige, your mother asked if you could help out in the kitchen.”
I shot Michael a look, wondering if he would be okay in there with just Dad. But he didn't look worried. I nodded and headed into the kitchen, telling him to call me if he needed anything.
“What is it, Mom?” I asked as I entered the kitchen.
Mom excitedly caught both my hands in hers. “I'm just so glad that you've found yourself a fella,” she said, beaming at me. “I'm so glad to know that you're not all alone anymore.”
I laughed. “Mom, you know I haven't been alone,” I told her. “I couldn't afford to live in New York City on my own, not with the job that I have. I'd probably have to get two more jobs to make rent. Just because you haven't met Erica yet, it doesn't mean that she doesn't exist.”
Mom rolled her eyes. “Well, I know that, and I'm sure that this Erica is a very lovely girl, but you get a different sort of companionship from a girlfriend than from a lover,” she said. She glanced towards the dining room and lowered her voice. “And he is quite handsome, isn't he?”
I blushed and ducked my head. “Yeah, he's handsome,” I said.
“So, where'd you meet him?” Mom asked. “And can you chop these carrots for the salad, please?”
I started chopping the carrots. “I met him at the bar,” I admitted.
“And here you told me that you were never going to meet someone good at that bar of yours!” Mom said gleefully.
If she only knew the terms of our relationship, I thought. But I couldn't tell her about that. Even if the NDA didn't tell me to keep my mouth shut about it, I didn't want to worry her. And worry, she would, if she found out that I was hoping to get knocked up by Michael so that he could have an heir. If she found out he was paying me to have sex with him.
Yeah, my traditionalist mother probably wouldn't be too pleased to hear about that.
Fortunately, it was time to head out to the dining room. As I walked out with the salad bowl, I heard Michael and Dad chatting about Michael's businesses. I couldn't help but smile as I heard him explaining his investments to Dad, telling him all about the genetic engineering company that he was researching, as well as the youth dance organization that he had just donated a sum of money to. I felt a surge of pride, hearing how impressed Dad was.
Michael was a keeper. Unfortunately, he was way out of my league.
I suppressed a sigh, trying not to feel too mopey. This was just about getting Mom off my back for a while. Besides, Michael seemed like he was enjoying the company. He looked inquisitively over at me as I set the salad bowl on the table, and his fingers ghosted across the back of my hand, showing silent concern. I gave him a tight smile and sat down in my seat at the table.
“All right, everyone,” Mom said from her place at the head of the table. “Dig in!”