Another

“I guess I should formally introduce you to my partner, Ian Bergamo,” Erik spoke up.

“Huh,” I breathed a laugh, barely holding back the manic chuckle brewing. I’d been so close to him the whole time, always missing him when he traveled to London for their business. What were the odds?

“Yeah, we didn’t quite get to last names when we met,” Ian muttered.

Jared choked on another laugh, but quickly pulled it together when Alexandra slapped his shoulder.

“Carina Russo,” I stated simply.

“Next time, Erik, let’s use first names when talking about the people we’re working with.” Ian smiled with no humor. “I had no idea you were the Miss Russo he kept mentioning.”

“Well, now we know.”

Ian and I had a staring duel until a petite hand rested on Ian’s shoulder, pulling his attention away. Hanna squeezed his shoulder supportively, and he gave her a real grin that reached his eyes. Jealously pierced my chest, and I almost laughed at how absurd it was. I hadn’t seen Ian in eight months. Maybe he was dating Hanna, a petite, demure, beautiful woman who wasn’t the size of a whale.

I couldn’t blame him. I liked Hanna. She was sweet and had a quirky sense of humor. She also made the most amazing chocolate chip cookies I’d grown to crave in my pregnancy. I’d spoken with her each time I visited the office. We laughed over the men in the room, grabbed lunch on occasion. But now, when I looked at her, all I felt was similar feelings I’d had to Jackson being with Jake: doubt, insecure, hurt.

When fire burned my nose, I quickly looked away from the sweet moment, and pulled out the papers, starting the meeting. I moved quickly and avoided eye contact with Ian as much as possible. Which wasn’t easy considering he was the main informant on the London office they were opening. He’d done all the traveling and in-person research.

Thankfully, he was able to keep it professional, and we moved through the meeting quickly. I wasn’t sure what the next step was, but the only thing I could think about right now was getting the hell out of that building. Each second it took to shove another folder in my purse, the pressure built more and more.

Go, go, go. Get out of there.

“I looked for you,” Ian said under his breath across the table as everyone slowly gathered their things. They were trying not to look curious and failing miserably. It only took so long to grab a pamphlet and phone.

“Not right now, Ian. We’re working.” We technically weren’t anymore, but anything to hold him off.

“Tough shit, Carina,” he growled loud enough for everyone to hear and stop.

I didn’t have the ability to form words out of the frustrated chaos swirling through my mind, so I settled on a glare.

“That’s my baby,” he said even louder, his finger pointing at my stomach. “I think that takes a little precedence over work.”

“Maybe for you, but my work is important to me. Have a little patience and wait ten fucking minutes until we leave this office.”

Ian’s jaw clenched before snapping open with his own reply, but Erik cut him off.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and watch, I have another meeting to get to. Lovely to see you, Carina.”

“We done?” Ian asked Erik.

Erik gave me a cursory glance for approval, and I nodded. “Yes.”

“Good.” Ian latched on to my arm and dragged me behind him. Everyone stared with wide eyes, mostly filled with humor and excitement.

Except Hanna who watched with hurt lingering in her green depths, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he pulled me out with him, leaving a girlfriend behind.

If Ian had a girlfriend, then where did that leave the baby and me? Would he try to take the baby for shared custody? My steps faltered at the thought.

Seven months—for seven months, I’d accepted that I was on my own. I made plans on my own. I prepared for a future that held just Peanut and me. Now, Ian clutched my hand, dragging me to where we would talk about a future that included him and whatever his life looked like.

The endless possibilities of what that could be swarmed and crashed through all my plans, rocking my foundation, and making me want to tug free and run.

Some nights, I’d lain in bed and concocted scenarios where I’d run into Ian, and I’d picture the man in the photos, laughing with me. We’d meet for coffee, realize we were in love, and all would work out. I knew they were just fantasies to help cope with being alone, but never in a million years had I imagined this scenario of possibly having it all taken away.

As we crossed the threshold into his office, I made a promise to myself and Peanut—I wasn’t going to crumble under my fear, and I wasn’t going to let him barrel through my well-constructed plans.