She shrugs. “I looked into it, and it’s definitely an option. But I’d feel more comfortable if the father was someone I knew.” Her gaze slips down me, making me tingle as if she’s using the tips of her fingers. “I like you. You’re an excellent physical specimen. You’re tall and good looking. You’re strong and you seem healthy. You’re intelligent, kind, honest, and loyal. Those are the kinds of traits I’d be happy to reproduce in my children.”
I’m close to blushing. No woman has ever said anything remotely like that to me before.
Equally, I’m so disappointed I feel an ache deep inside. “Honey,” I tell her, “I’m incredibly flattered, unless you’ve already debated everyone else and I’m the last on the list.”
“You’re not,” she says. “You’ve always been at the top.”
I give a short laugh and look out of the window. She actually has a good sense of humor, but sometimes she misses sarcasm and irony, and she says exactly what’s on her mind. “It must be a very short list.”
“Not at all. Why don’t you think you’d be an attractive proposition?”
I don’t know how to answer that. I look back at her. “Well…” I say carefully, “as I said, I’m very flattered, but it seems such a waste. You should be dating, whether it’s me or someone else. You never know, it might work out, and then the whole baby thing might happen of its own accord.”
But she shakes her head, determined. “No. I’m not made to be in a relationship.”
“Aw, Poppy…”
She holds up a hand. “It’s just the way it is. I don’t understand men, and I’m terrible at being a partner. And I’m not going through it again. I’m done. But I do want children.”
“How many are we having?”
She glares at me. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Not at all.”
“Well, we could start with one and see how it goes.”
“Right.” I stretch out my legs, fold my hands, and tip my head to one side as I study her. “So how would this work, then?”
“You want me to explain artificial insemination?”
“No. I’d like some more details on how I would be involved.”
“You don’t need to be involved at all. Other than… you know… the obvious.”
“What if I want to be?”
She hesitates. “Well… um…” She frowns. “I’d assumed you wouldn’t be interested. I thought you’d be relieved not to be involved. In my experience, the last thing men are interested in is commitment.”
She’s talking about Daniel again. He wouldn’t commit to her. Maybe she mentioned wanting children and he said no. Anger flares inside me. “So what do I get out of it?” I ask her. I’m being sarcastic, but she doesn’t pick up on it.
“I’d pay you,” she says. “A thousand dollars for each… donation.”
“Jesus.” She thinks I’d take money from her for jerking off into a cup. She thinks she has to pay me to get me to help her.
My frustration flows over. Before I say something I’ll regret, I stand up. “I’m sorry, I’ve got things to do.”
“But—”
I walk out before she can finish, snapping at Jack to follow me, go over to the car, plonk Jack on the passenger seat, throw the tool bag in the back, and drive away.
I’m so angry, I want to hit something. I’m tempted to drive into Paihia to the local primary school, find Daniel Magget—or the Maggot, as I call him—and beat the living shit out of him. Fucking bastard. I bang the steering wheel. He’s spoiled her, corrupted the soul I know gleams like gold beneath her current layer of hurt and pain.
I drive into the Ark’s car park, get out, and stride across with Jack at my heels to the office block.
“Hey.” Albie lifts a hand in greeting as I pass, but I ignore him and walk through to my office. I slam the door, making the whole building rattle. Jack goes under the table and lies with his snout on his paws.
“Stupid fucking idiot,” I mumble, unzipping the bottom half of my coveralls and stepping out of them. I pull on my suit pants, take out a can of deodorant from my desk, and spray under my arms before I pull on my shirt.