The Moment of Truth

Knowing she had to get back to school for her eleven o’clock biology lab, she called Little Guy over to her. Only as she turned back to the sliding-glass door did she notice the note propped up on the dining table. It was a piece of computer paper with color printing, a picture of a house on front.

Inside, the note simply read, “Can you come to my office at lunchtime?”

He’d added the building and suite number beneath his signature.

“Josh Redmond.”

Not just Josh. Josh Redmond.

Like she couldn’t keep track of all the Joshes she knew? Or didn’t know the last name of the man whose house she entered every day, twice a day? The man who’d fathered the baby that, though she couldn’t feel it yet, was currently growing inside of her?

Locking the puppy back up in his kennel, she hurried off to class.

She was glad that her lab partners were in charge of the experiment. Her job was the final write-up.

Later that night she’d be better able to focus.

Because it would be after she’d answered her summons to Josh’s office.

* * *

HE WAS READY and waiting, keys in hand, as soon as Dana knocked on his office door.

“You just said lunchtime,” Dana said, stepping beyond him and into the office, looking around as though there was actually a room there to see. In her usual jeans, tennis shoes and blouse, she looked as if she was ready to handle anything life presented her.

He hoped so. Because he had the presentation of his life ahead of him.

She sat down in the faux-leather chair in front of his desk. He was embarrassed by the smallness of his space. The lack of quality furniture. Of art. Style.

“It was either here or behind your desk,” she said, motioning toward the chair in which she sat.

He was a regular guy now, he reminded himself. “I thought we’d go for a drive,” he said. Surely she’d see things his way. He knew he was right.

And she was reasonable.

He’d already closed one deal that morning. Michelle’s outings were a go.

He had to get this deal closed today, too. There was so much to do and not a lot of time in which to get it done.

“Drive where?”

“I’ll show you.”

“I’d like to know where I’m going,” she said. “I have class in an hour.”

She wasn’t cooperating. And he hadn’t even begun his pitch.

“We’re going ten minutes from campus,” he said. “Can you trust me on this, just until we get there?”

“The only place I know that serves lunch within ten minutes of here is the Valley Diner,” she said. But she was walking beside him down the hall on the way to his SUV.

Lunch. Hell. He’d missed a key detail. Where was his secretary when he needed her?

Back in Boston, that was where.

Not only had he missed the detail, but here he was telling a pregnant woman he was going to do his part, telling himself that he was going to be a good father to his child, and he couldn’t even remember that the woman and his child needed to eat. Well, they’d have to make a quick detour to the cafeteria for a sandwich that they could bring back to his office after their drive. It would be a working lunch. He’d attended and hosted more of those than he could count.

* * *

DANA DIDN’T KNOW of any lunch spot in the direction Josh was headed. She’d been in town a few months longer than he had and considered telling him he was going the wrong way.

But he knew different people than she did. Local people. Maybe he knew something she didn’t know.

When they pulled up to the house, she recognized it right away.

“That’s the house on the front of your note.” She pulled the paper out of her bag.

“Right. I need you to take a look at it.” Opening his door, he got out and came around to open her door.

Dana’s heart started to pound. Surely he wasn’t... Was he going to propose to her? Was Amy right? Did Josh want her, Dana Harris?

It was like every romantic movie she’d ever seen. She was surprised she managed to get herself out of the SUV without falling.

Josh walked up to the front door like he owned the place and, typing in a code in the lockbox, accessed the key and let them in.

Like he did own the place.

Oh, my God. She could hardly breathe.

“It has four bedrooms,” he said. “And sits on half an acre. I looked at full-acre sites, but they were more than I can afford.”

He was proposing to her. Any moment he was going to pull out the ring.

“What do you think of the kitchen?” he asked, taking her there first.

“You’ve been here before?” Dana spoke for the first time since entering the house.

“With the Realtor. This morning.”

They’d reached the kitchen. A dream of a kitchen. With granite countertops, an undermounted sink, tons of cupboard space and an island with an electrical outlet.