Pretty Little Mistake

Because we never know what smell might trigger Lennon’s morning sickness, we’ve taken to using my office as our meeting space. It’s good, in a way, since that means we can take as long as we want to go over things. We finally have a solid direction, one that was entirely Lennon’s idea. We’re going to spend the coming months interviewing as many women as we can about their careers, and what people have said to them to diminish them in getting their positions. It’s above and beyond what we need to do, but we both agreed that the more fleshed out our idea is, the more likely Jaci will be to choose it.

I can’t help but think this idea came to her because of my question when she started working at Real Point—about whether her dad had bought her way here.

Even if it is a dig at me, I can’t be mad. It’s brilliant, and relevant to society.

After closing my laptop, since that’s where I keep the notes on the project and not the office computer—call me jaded, but while I might like my coworkers, I don’t trust anyone with access to the work computers—I scoot my chair back and look over at Lennon. I’ve added a leather armchair to my office, and it’s become hers whenever she’s in here. I guess that’s a good thing, since I did get it for her. Not that I’ve told her that. I did receive some strange looks from my coworkers when they saw me lugging it in here. I have no idea what they thought I was doing, but I guess now they know.

Lennon looks up from her iPad, the end of her Apple Pencil pressed to her lips. “Why are you stopping?”

“We need to talk.”

From my tone, I’m sure she knows I don’t mean about the project. Her nose crinkles like she smells something sour. “Why?”

“Why?” I repeat, incredulous. “Maybe because you’re pregnant and eventually people around here are going to notice.”

She taps the pencil against her lips, then slowly lowers it. “What does that matter?”

I bristle, my hands balling into fists. Her cavalier tone annoys me. “It matters because I’m the father.”

With a sigh, she sets her iPad and the pencil aside. “Is this pregnancy brain?” She seems to mumble it to herself, not me. “I’m not following you.”

Rubbing my jaw, I get up and pace over to where she sits. “What I mean is, people are going to be curious.”

“So?” She looks at me like I’m the one who’s lost my mind. Maybe I have.

“Relationships between coworkers aren’t prohibited here. I want them to think we’re together.”

Lennon blinks, then blinks again, looking like some sort of owlish cartoon character. “Because I’m pregnant?”

Aggravated, I tug at my hair. I know I’m not making any sense, because frankly, my thoughts don’t. “We’re not together—”

“I know,” she interjects, saying it slowly, like I’m the one who needs reminding.

“But I want them to think we are. I think it’ll be the easiest route altogether.”

“If our coworkers think we’re an actual couple and that you didn’t just knock me up?”

“Exactly.” I clap my hands, pointing a finger at her in victory.

I already know I can come across as cold and unapproachable at work. I don’t think it would help my image at all if they think I hooked up with Lennon and that was that.

She frowns, shaking her head. Her little confused pout shouldn’t be so fucking cute, and I definitely shouldn’t want to kiss her because of it. This is bad.

“I don’t understand. There’s nothing wrong with us not being together. I’m an independent woman. I can raise this child just fine on my own.” I bristle at that, not that she seems to notice. “And I don’t owe anyone the details on who the father is.”

“Me.” I point angrily at my chest. “I’m the father, and I’m telling you that I want that known. You’re not raising this baby by yourself. I’m not walking away from this. I didn’t plan for this, neither did you, but it’s what’s happening now, and I’m . . .” I pause to catch my breath, thinking of my bio-parents and the decisions they had to make. My adoptive parents too. How they chose to love so wholly a broken kid who was no blood of theirs. I might not have given children much thought before, but I fully plan on being there. Family is everything. Sometimes I forget that—I don’t put in as much effort as I should—but I’m going to be better, and I’m definitely going to be as present in my kid’s life as I can be. “I’m going to be the best damn dad to that kid, okay? And I want people to know that.”

“But why do we need to make them think we’re together? We’re not.” She mutters the last part in a hushed tone.

I squat in front of her, putting us at eye level. “Don’t you think it makes the most sense? The easiest way for all of this? Besides”—I go in for the kill—“I think Jaci might be upset if she did the math and figured out I got you pregnant on the trip she sent us on, but if she thinks we’re a couple now because of that trip, then she’ll be ecstatic that she played matchmaker.”

Lennon’s nose crinkles with thought. It’s always done that when she’s not sure of something. “I’m still not a hundred percent on board with this, but if you’re so certain it’s better to play the part of a happy couple while we’re at work, then sure, I’ll do it.” A barely there smirk dances over those lips I wanted to kiss only a few moments ago. “Does this mean you’ll hold the door for me?”

“I guess.” I mean, she is carrying my child.

“Will you bring me coffee?”

I stand up, crossing my arms over my chest. “Only if I’m getting coffee for myself—and remember, you can’t overdo the coffee.”

She ignores my comments. “What about lunch? Will you get me whatever I want?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes.”

She hops up from the chair, patting my chest. “Then I’m in. You’re going to be the best fake work boyfriend ever.”

“Like you’ve had many?”

She scoops up her iPad case and pencil. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Her dark hair swishes against her shoulders, and the little smirk she tosses back at me before leaving my office has me stunned.

I know this whole fake-relationship thing was my suggestion, but now I’m wondering if I’ve made a grave mistake.

“He’s been more tired today than usual,” the nurse tells me when I walk into the long-term-care facility at the end of my workday.

“That makes two of us.”

She gives me a sympathetic smile. “Enjoy your visit.”

I give her a nod, heading down the hall to my father’s room. If he’s asleep, I won’t stay. He needs his rest when he can get it.

I’m not sure when or how I decided to visit him daily. It’s not out of pity or anything of the sort. I want to be there for him. No one from his life before—family or friends—ever visits him. He deserves to know he’s not alone.

I ease the door open, only the smallest squeak emitting from the hinges.

Blue eyes the same color as mine stare back at me from the bed. Even though he can’t say much, he says all he needs to with his gaze alone.

And right now, his gaze is saying, Why the hell are you sneaking in here?

“I thought you were sleeping.” I ease the door shut behind me. The lights in the room are dimmed, the blinds closed. “Did you get a nap?”

“I-I did.”

I pull up the chair closer to his bed. He’s grown frailer in the time since I’ve known him. Even though I don’t want to admit it to myself, I’m not sure how much longer he’ll be around.

“Do you want to watch anything?”

He clears his throat. “Sure.”

I turn the TV on, watching him as I slowly scroll through the channels. “This,” he finally says when I land on something of interest to him.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Surprise lights his eyes, his interest moving from the TV screen to focus on me instead.

“Do you remember the girl I told you about? The one who drives me absolutely insane?” He gives me his reply that he does. “She’s pregnant . . . with my baby. I’m going to be a dad.” I rub my jaw, still struggling to come to terms with this.

Even though I’ve accepted this deviation from the course my life was on, it’s still strange to think I’m going to be parenting an actual human being.

“That means you’ll be a grandpa.”

God, I hope he gets the chance to meet my kid. He’s been dwindling over the last few months. It’s not something I like to think about.

Rubbing my hands on the legs of my pants, I go on, “Diapers, bottles, snotty noses, and scraped knees. That’s what my future holds.” I shake my head back and forth, stifling a laugh. “Me? A dad? Who would’ve thought?”

I talk for a while longer, about the baby, work, Cheddar, just anything and everything. When I finally shut up, I see that he’s fallen asleep.

I pull his blanket up higher on his body. “See you tomorrow, Dad.”

It’s hard, watching him slip away.

Especially when there’s nothing I can do and not enough money in the world to make it better.