Page 33 of Love or Tequila in Unexpected Places

ALLISON

Two weeks in her home office went by in a flash.

How had she survived the daily grind of the office for so long? She felt like she had stumbled upon a secret treasure trove, one filled with sweatpants and coffee on demand. The best part? She realized she could rearrange her father’s high-profile meetings to all take place on the same day. This genius plan meant she could do a single heroic drive once a week, don her business casual (which, let’s be honest, was just a slightlynicer version of her pajamas), and then retreat back to her cozy fortress of solitude.

She had done that exact thing these past weeks, and it truly tasted like freedom.

Her thoughts, however, were anything but free. Instead of reveling in her newfound bliss, Allison was plagued by a parade of worries marching through her mind, each one more anxious than the last.

She fixated on every tiny movement she made, terrified that she might accidentally harm her baby. She longed for sleep every night, hoping for just a few blissful hours of rest to escape the anxiety.

As if that wasn’t enough, Allison found herself completely consumed by thoughts of Angelo. Although they hadn’t communicated much over the past two weeks, he still managed to text her at least three times a day to check in. Each message filled her mind with vivid images and memories of him; his intoxicating scent, the warmth of his touch, the sound of his voice, and those irresistible chocolate eyes framed by his tousled brown curls.

Honestly, it was enough to make her feel like she was living in a romantic novel—minus the dramatic misunderstandings and dashing rescues.

Just him.

Always him.

Unfortunately, sleep had become a cruel joke. Each night, she found herself upchucking as if she were trying to expel the remnants of the worst hangover of her life.

Ironic, considering that it was one too many tequila shots that led me to this situation.

Allison had never been much of a drinker, but on the off chance that she did drink, she would always,alwaysgo fortequila. She knew it was an acquired taste, but she liked it. She enjoyed the instant haziness and the burn that came with it.

“Next time,” she thought out loud, “I’ll stick to water. Or maybe sparkling water. You can never go wrong with bubbles.”

But there was no denying it: even with the discomfort, the sleepless nights, and the constant worrying, she couldn’t shake the bittersweet excitement hiding beneath her anxiety.

She was currently on her way to her very first ultrasound, and she couldn’t be giddier. The butterflies in her stomach had officially traded in their usual flutter for a full-on dance party. As she navigated through typical Seattle traffic, every stoplight felt like a mini eternity, each second stretching out like the time it takes for a pot of water to boil.

Allison had dreamt of this moment, imagining all the possible outcomes: would it be a tiny bean? A mini superhero? She could practically hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet already—though, given her current state of nausea, she wouldn’t mind if those tiny feet took their time making an appearance.

She had spent the last week watching videos of ultrasounds online, prepping herself for what to expect. The glowing images of babies floating in amniotic bliss only heightened her excitement and anxiety. What if the technician couldn’t find the baby? What if she ended up with a picture of her stomach instead, complete with a caption that read “You are here”?

As she pulled into the parking lot, she took a deep breath, reminding herself that soon, she’d get a glimpse of the little life inside her. This wasn’t just an appointment; it was a sneak preview of the blockbuster event that would soon take over her life.

She could already picture herself bursting into tears at the sight of the flickering heartbeat on the screen, possibly embarrassing herself in front of the technician, as well as the gruff man that would no-doubt be sitting beside her.

Allison was jolted out of her excited thoughts as yet another hot flash washed over her, leaving her feeling like she had just run a marathon through a sauna. She had been getting them for a couple of days now, and they absolutely, undoubtedly sucked. It was as if her body had declared an all-out war on her comfort, and this particular battle was one she was losing spectacularly.

She glared down at her baby pink sweater, already feeling the fabric cling to her skin like a wet towel. The idea of sweating through it was enough to send her into a mini panic. She knew it was cold—after all, this was Seattle, where the weather had a personality as dreary as a rainy Tuesday. Late November was practically synonymous with overcast skies and drizzles that seemed to last forever. Anyone else would be cold right now!

Yet, here she was, sweating like it was summer in Mexico, wondering if she could pass off her blush as a natural reaction to the excitement of the ultrasound.

“Great,” she muttered under her breath, imagining how she’d explain the situation to Angelo. “Oh, don’t mind the sweat; it’s just my hormones throwing a disco party while I’m trying to keep it together.” She adjusted her sweater, wanting to find some semblance of comfort as she parked her car.

The first thing Allison saw as she looked up from her thankfully-not-clinging sweater was Angelo.

He was hard to miss, dressed in a black polo shirt that hugged his well-defined shoulders just enough to make her wonder if he had recently been hitting the gym—and how easily she could convince him to spot her for the weights she would be fake-lifting. He paired it with casual pants—or as casual as a man like Angelo could be. Let’s be honest; he made “casual” look like a runway model’s day off.

Leaning against his very sexy, sleek black Mercedes with one ankle crossed over the other, he exuded an effortless charm that could make anyone forget their worries. The car gleamed in theovercast Seattle light, looking like it belonged in a movie rather than the parking lot of a medical building.

Lord, help me.

She opened her car door and Angelo took off his sunglasses to look at her.

Seriously, HELP ME!

---