Page 91 of Don't Quit the Day Job

"Is that why you've been so cold and standoffish?"

"Yes."

"So it's not because you regret me coming over and us making love and everything moving so quickly?"

"No. I thought you regretted it."

"I don't regret a second of it. Do you want to go out tomorrow? I had plans, but I can blow them off. I?—"

"I can't. I already have plans. I'm sorry."

"With a guy?"

"No, no. Not at all. Just with some friends. And, well, if I could blow it off, I would, but my friend's counting on me and I can't. You know?"

"What about afterwards?"

"I don't really know how long the plans are going to last or where it's going to be. And, well, I'm sorry, Max. But maybe Sunday?"

"I can't on Sunday. I'm taking my sister to go look for baby toys and clothes, even though I think it's way too soon. But I want to show her that I'm supportive."

"How old is your sister? Can I ask?"

"She's eighteen." I sigh. "Way too young to be a mom, but she wants to keep the baby and I respect that. I'll be the best uncle there is."

"Wow. You're so kind and loving. And is that why you haven't been in the office this week?"

"Exactly. I've been taking her to doctor's appointments and we went to get her New York driver's license."

"Her New York driver's license? I thought she was just visiting you."

"Well, it turns out that she's moving to New York now, and that is definitely going to complicate my life a little bit."

"Yeah, you can say that again."

"But I hope it's not going to complicate what we have going between us…" I say as I walk over to my door, close it, and lock it. I get back onto my bed and pull my shirt and jeans off. I lean back against the headboard. "Can we FaceTime?"

"I guess so," she says. "But why?"

"Because you owe me, don't you think?"

"I mean, maybe a little bit. How can I make it up to you, Mr. Spector?"

"Show me your boobs," I say, and she bursts out laughing.

"You're such a guy."

"I am, and I won't dispute it." I press the button to FaceTime her, and she answers almost immediately. I'm happy to see that she's sitting on her mattress wearing a tight tank top. It appears that she doesn't have a bra on. "Take it off," I say.

"Excuse me, Max. You may be my boss, but you cannot tell me to just take off my top."

"I can't?" I ask, laughing. "But mine is off."

"That's like me saying, 'Pull down your boxers and show me your cock.'"

"Fine," I say, pulling them off and pointing the phone down. She squeals and bursts out laughing.

"Max, you can't do that!"

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