Page 33 of Secret Baby for My Brother's Best Friends

However, when Sam returns with bottle of water, she accepts it with thanks and basically gulps it down, so fast I’m scared she’s going to choke.

“Slowly,” I say and she obeys, slowing down the rate of the drinking.

When she’s done, she gives Sam a grateful smile and then continues, "Anyway, here's what I was thinking. A poster–”

“With your face on it,” Jake interrupts.

“No,” she says. “A poster that can get attention to you.”

“That’s exactly what I said.”

She rolls her eyes and gives him a droll look and he snaps his finger. “That one. That’s the looks that should be on the poster.”

She shakes her head. “Following that, we should have an article about–”

“How beautiful you are? I agree.”

“Just let her talk man,” I say annoyed.

She snorts and shakes her head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“Of course. I didn’t get this far in life by being corrigible.”

She shakes her head, but can’t hide her smile.

The meeting continues in that vein, with him throwing flirtatious words like that, some of which make her snort, others which make her roll her eyes.

Sam stares quietly while Jake gets bolder; his flirtation is far more obvious, and he asks questions like, "Are you married?" or "Do you have a boyfriend?" which obviously makes her uncomfortable.

Eventually, she escapes to the bathroom, giving me time to talk to the other two.

"Lay off her," I bite out between my teeth.

"We're not doing anything."

"Yes, you are. You're making her uncomfortable. Stop."

"He's the one asking her personal questions," Sam jabs his thumb toward Jake.

"You're the one who’s staring at her like a creep,” Jake shoots back. "I don't care. Both of you just–"

A little yelp interrupts, and as we bolt to our feet, we hear her call out weakly, "Help."

11

CHELSEA

This is quite possibly the most humiliating conclusion to this disastrous morning.

Today has been a series of mistakes from beginning to end, starting with accepting the bid to change the location of the meeting. When Jake had sent a text saying that he was sick and wanted to meet somewhere closer to home, I thought it would probably be at another restaurant or a hotel with a conference room or something.

But once the Uber turned down a residential lane, I should have known where we were going and hightailed it out of there.

My only defense is that it looks totally different during the day than at night.

Or maybe it was my panicked thoughts that made it look so sordid that night, like some kind of red light district rather than a fairly average upper-middle-class neighborhood with cute suburban homes with trimmed gazebos and old women going on power walks on the side of the road.

By the time the car stopped in front of their house, it was too late. He opened the door and caught me before I could make up an excuse to leave.