As we stepped into the restaurant, I could sense that Ashley was nervous. I could only wonder if I had pushed her too far, if I had crossed the unspoken boundary I had tried so desperately to tiptoe around.

She didn’t seem angry, however, only glancing toward me with a shy smile every few moments as we were seated. The waiter asked us for our drink orders, and before the woman could speak, I suggested that he bring a bottle of their finest champagne. Ashley’s eyes widened, and she looked all too ready to protest.

“Please, Ashley. It’s my treat. Just enjoy yourself,” I said with my best attempt at a comforting smile.

She still looked nervous, but she managed a faint smile as she folded her hands on top of the table. She was fidgeting almost uncontrollably, and before I could think, I reached out to rest one of my hands on top of hers. She stiffened a bit, glancing toward me with a timid expression. “If I’ve made you uncomfortable…” I began, but she shook her head fervently before I could continue.

“It’s nothing like that, Jensen. I just have a lot on my mind right now,” she said, her words measured and careful. As much as I wanted to press her for further information, I could tell that it would not be forthcoming any time soon. Instead, I drew my hand away and flipped through the menu that had been placed in front of me. I had been to the restaurant a dozen times over, and knew you couldn’t go wrong with their lobster tail in buttered garlic sauce. I had my doubts that Ashley had been to the restaurant before, though.

“What are you planning to order then?” I asked idly, continuing to study the menu, pretending to be entirely absorbed in the task. She seemed to relax slightly once my eyes were no longer on her, and she reached out with shaking hands to grab her own menu. She opened it to the appetizers page, eyes widening in alarm.

“O-oh. I can’t… This is all so expensive! I’ll just have a glass of water,” she said quietly, a sense of urgency in her tone. I smiled gently, meeting her gaze and holding it for a long moment. Her nervousness seemed swift to return, and her cheeks turned that increasingly familiar shade of pink.

“Ashley, if I have to order for you, I’m ordering the most expensive thing on the menu,” I said with a sly grin. She looked stunned, and fumbled with the menu for a moment.

“A salad, then?” she tried to bargain, and I could only roll my eyes in amusement.

“You seem the type who would enjoy the shrimp alfredo. It comes with a side salad and garlic bread. I’ve had it a few times, and it’s an utter delight. Not that you can go wrong with anything here…” I trailed off, considering the menu for a moment longer. “Nothing under thirty dollars. Otherwise, have at it,” I added cheekily. She sputtered indignantly for a moment, looking as if she would like nothing more than to flail her arms at me.

“Fine. The alfredo, you said?” she finally said, apparently deciding to go along with it. I was somewhat surprised she didn’t put up more of a fight, but I couldn’t help internally celebrating my victory.

“Yes, you’ll love it. Oh, and just in time. Champagne’s here,” I said, stopping the waiter from pouring me a glass. “For the lady only, tonight. I’m driving,” I grinned, pleased by the bulging of Ashley’s eyes. It was obvious that she’d never been on the receiving end of such spoiling, and in spite of my intention to keep things professional, I intended to remedy that.

“Thank you,” Ashley said weakly as the champagne was poured, taking a sip with some trepidation. A soft sigh drew itself from her lips, and another spike of arousal shot through me. The sheer pleasure in that sigh would have been enough to drive any man mad, I’m sure of it.

I scarcely heard when the waiter asked for our food orders, though Ashley was thankfully paying attention for both of us.

“I appreciate you inviting me out, Ashley. I truly mean that,” I said once the waiter had stepped away, watching my secretary with a self-assured smile. She made a face, swishing the sparkling liquid in her glass.

“I don’t think it counts if you’re the one paying,” she said drily. I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders.

“I wouldn’t have come out alone. I fully intended to spend the evening home alone, sulking,” I assured her. “I actually had something I wanted to discuss with you,” I began, resting my chin in my hand. Ashley seemed to grow more anxious, wringing her hands before taking another long gulp from her champagne glass.

“Can I go first?” she inquired weakly, tracing her finger along the rim of the glass. Unsure of what was bothering her, and afraid that I had done something to cause it, I simply nodded and gestured for her to speak.

She was hesitant, glancing from me, to her glass, to the floor, then back again. She worried her bottom lip between her teeth, tapping her nails on the tabletop.

“What’s bothering you? You know you can talk to me about anything. I know I feel like I can discuss anything with you,” I offered, reaching out to take her hand in my own. Her eyes flitted from side to side and after a moment she emptied her glass.

“Promise me that you won’t get angry,” she said meekly. It was my turn to hesitate, even if it was for the briefest of moments. I was confident that nothing she could say would truly anger me, so I nodded my head and smiled.

“I won’t get angry. Just talk to me,” I said with a smile. She returned the expression hesitantly, squeezing my hand and taking a deep breath. Before she could speak, however, the waiter arrived with our food. I was forced to break my grip on her, drawing my hand back to my side and waiting until the man stepped away. Ashley seemed to have lost her nerve in that brief moment, and for the time being I decided to let it go.

We ate in companionable silence, though Ashley did allow the occasional sigh to slip past her lips. When we had little more than scraps on our plate, I waved the waiter down to take our food. As he did, Ashley seemed to grow aware of the fact that I expected her to make her confession. She swallowed, struggling to form the words.

“I was in your office today,” she began, taking another large swallow of wine. I snorted out a laugh, crossing my arms.

“I’m well aware, Ashley. The pastry was delicious, by the way. I’m not sure why that has you in such a tizzy though,” I chuckled. She blanched, averting her eyes.

“Well, that’s not it. While I was in your office, I happened to see that your computer was unlocked. I…I took a peek, and I’m really sorry, Jensen. I was just so curious, and I saw that…I saw that you were looking for a surrogate mother,” she confessed, seemingly ready to burst into tears. Although I was slightly taken aback at the invasion of privacy, I couldn’t be too angry, especially considering that I had planned to tell her anyway.

“Ashley—” I began, only for her to cut me off with a nervous grin.

“B-but, there’s a reason I asked you out to dinner tonight. I wanted to take your mind off of things, yes…but there’s something else,” she rambled, and I could only stare at her in confusion. She seemed to be working herself up more and more with each passing moment, and I knew that interrupting her couldn’t help. I just waited for her to finish her thought, nowhere near prepared for what she was going to say. “I wanted to tell you, I could be a surrogate for you. That is…if you’d like,” she finally managed to get out, her cheeks a bright shade of red.

The words barely registered in my mind, and all I could see was that she seemed to be ready to hyperventilate. Before I could open my mouth to speak and offer her some comfort, my mind fully grasped what she was offering. I felt my own eyes grow wide with surprise, my mouth hanging agape. Ashley seemed to take it as a bad sign, and furiously began to apologize again.

It was difficult for me to form a coherent thought of my own in that moment, let alone come up with something to calm her down. All I could think was that Ashley, my beautiful, wonderful secretary, had just offered to be a surrogate mother for me.

“Ashley, calm down,” I managed, though my own voice was quaking slightly. I’d never been one to lose my cool, but this was far from a normal situation.

She turned to look at me, her eyes wide and teary, and I reached out to gently touch her cheek. Her skin was warm to the touch and much to my surprise, she seemed to press into my hand. Her breathing calmed a bit, and she closed her eyes, looking as exhausted as if she had just run a marathon.

As much as I didn’t want to press her further, I had to know.

Did she mean it?