Dinner? Umm—” Cupping my growing belly, I feel conflicted. I’m a hundred percent certain he’s the father of my child. I hadn’t been with anyone else. His statement about trying to find the girl from the party makes me wonder if he recognized me too.

I’ve been contemplating what to say to him since I saw him in his office. The minute I laid eyes on him something in me just knew. It was his eyes that gave him away. The night we shared, though blurry, still made an impression. My body ached for days after we were together. An ache that said he owned my body that night. And in a way I guess he still does. I’m carrying his child.

“Miss King. You still there?”

I blink my eyes, breaking from my thoughts. “Sorry. Dinner. Sure.” I can only utter one-word sentences like an idiot.

“You like steak?”

My belly growls at the thought of a big juicy steak. “Steak? Yeah. Sounds great.”

“Perfect. Can you meet me there or do I need to send a car for you?”

“I can drive. Just text me where and the time.”

“Great. See you soon.”

“Yeah.” The line goes dead, and I feel ready to vomit. I thought I was over the whole morning sickness crap.

Oh god! What am I going to wear? I’m fat. Well, I’m pregnant but I feel like a whale.

Going over to my closet, I yell for Jenny.

Her head pokes around my bedroom doorway. “What’s up?”

“I need you to help me find something to wear that doesn’t make me look like Violet when she turns into a blueberry in Willy Wonka.”

Jenny rolls her eyes. “You aren’t big. You just have a baby in your belly.” She grins and puts her hands on my stomach. “Ain’t that right, peanut?”

“If this baby comes out thinking its name is peanut, you’re paying for his therapy.”

Her brows quirk up. “Did you find out the sex?”

I shake my head. “No, I just—I feel like it will be a boy. I want a boy. Girls are drama.”

Jenny laughs and rifles through my clothes. “You could probably make some badass maternity clothes. You have the talent and the skills.”

“There’s an idea. Maybe I can sell them to cover my half of the rent.” I frown, and Jenny grabs my hands.

“Things will turn around. You’ll find another job. If worst comes to worst, I’ll ask my dad for a loan.”

“Not gonna happen. You’ve already done too much.”

“You’re my best friend. It’s what friends do. We look out for each other.”

“I’m not your responsibility. I got myself into this situation. It’s just no one wants to hire a pregnant stripper. Doesn’t exactly look great on a resume.”

“Everything’s gonna be fine. Don’t stress. It’s not good for the baby. And wear this. Red looks great on you.” She smiles and pulls a red tunic off a hanger with black leggings. “What’s the occasion anyway? Who are you meeting with that has you worried about what you’re going to wear?”

I should probably tell her about Brodie Hunter, but I don’t want to say anything until I’m sure.

“The lawyer I went to see about suing Rod for wrongful termination.”

“Is this a date?” Her brows wiggle.

I shove at her playfully, moving her out the door so I can change. “No. It’s about my case.”

“Right.” She draws out the syllable. “That’s why you have that dreamy look in your eyes.”

“Don’t.”

“April has a crush.” She singsongs her words like a twelve year old as she goes back down the hall.

April doesn’t have a crush. April has a big fucking dilemma.

How the hell am I going to tell this guy, “hey by the way you don’t remember me, but we fucked, and your baby is growing inside me”? That’s not going to send him running for the hills.

I finish getting ready and decide to just get the shit over with.

The text he sent said Hidalgos’ at seven. I’ve never eaten there but I’ve heard it’s amazing. I hope I’m not underdressed. With my expanding waistline I don’t have as many clothes these days. I had to use my savings to pay for my prenatal appointments.

Checking my makeup in the visor mirror, I make sure I look presentable. Running my fingers through my long blonde hair, I smile at my reflection and give myself a mental pep talk.

I’m a rock star.

I can do this.

Fuck.

I don’t want to go in there, but a tiny flutter in my stomach reminds me that this isn’t about me. I have a life growing inside me who is depending on me to make the right choices.

I feel like I don’t belong the moment I enter the restaurant. I’m definitely underdressed. I don’t fit in. The hostess makes it apparent as she sneers at me when I approach her podium.

“Hi, umm, Hunter party of two.” I hold up two fingers like a dummy.

“This way, please. He’s waiting at the bar until your table is ready.”

I follow her, feeling eyes on me and my stomach as I make my way through the crowded bar.

Brodie immediately stands when he sees me walking over.

All the air sucks from my lungs with each of his steps toward me.

“You came.”

I bob my head up and down, unsure of what to say.

“Something to drink?”

“That’d be great.”

His hand moves to the small of my back. It feels too intimate for this to be strictly business. The gesture should make me nervous, but in a way, it soothes me—his touch. His hand fits perfectly, inches above my ass.

“Are the stools okay?”

Brodie’s going out of his way to make sure I’m comfortable. He’s sweet. Gentle.

The bartender eyes my stomach and gives me a questioning look.

“Water with lemon, please.”

The man shoots me a bashful smile, probably hoping he hasn’t screwed himself out of a tip.

“I spoke with Rod. He has an offer. If you agree to the amount, I’ll have you sign a document and hand over the check.”

“Okay.” Sipping my water, I wait for him to elaborate.

“I have a check for ten thousand at my office. If you’d like we can go there after dinner.”

“I can’t help but feel like there’s a catch.”

“There are a few minor details, but we can discuss those later. Right now, I want to get to know you.”

Before I can muster a response, the hostess is back to inform us our table is ready.