Page 49 of Crazy Imperfect Hearts

I chuckle. “I’ll bet you expected some stuffy old white guy, huh? Candace is quite the opposite.”

Holding the outer door for her, we enter the building and ride the elevator to the third floor. While inside, I imagine us taking the elevator to my penthouse. I imagine doing things to her whileinthe elevator. Things like stripping those ridiculous tights off her.

My thoughts are halted by another. Would she even want to go there? To my place? Ever since she texted me yesterday, I’ve been imagining all the places I could try to impregnate her. My penthouse. The dressing room in her shop. A beach house on Martha’s Vineyard.

But then I remember how many times she’s kicked me out of her apartment. How she ended the text conversation. How she told me she changed her mind about my first proposition.

While I’m looking at this as a fun way to get what we want, she may be looking at it as strictly business.Ah, damn. Is she going to want me to jizz in a cup so she can use a turkey baster? I hadn’t even thought of that.

When the elevator dings and the doors open, pulling me back to our present reality, I gesture for her to go first. “Second door on the left.”

“Oh, hey, Regan,” the receptionist says, when we walk in.

Stacey, I believe, looks between the two of us, seemingly confused.

“We’re uh…” Regan looks to me to save her.

“We’re here on winery business,” I say.

“Right. Of course.” Stacey still seems confused as to why the CMO of Montana Winery would be taking the quirky boutique owner to a business meeting with his lawyer. I wonder what the gossip line will do with this information.

As if reading my thoughts, Regan leans close as we wait for Candace. “If we end up doing this, we’re going to have to figure out what to say to nosey people.”

I laugh. “You mean everyone in this town?”

She sighs heavily as if she hadn’t yet thought of the repercussions or the criticism she’ll face. I suppose I haven’t either. Will people assume she’s trying to trap me by getting pregnant? Will they call her stupid for thinking I’ll finally settle down and commit?

Suddenly it dawns on me that she has a lot more at stake here than I do.

And what about our age difference? Will people have a problem with it? In the overall scheme of things, five years isn’t that much. But people do tend to have a bias when the woman is older than the man—idiotic ideals if you ask me. Older women are fucking hot.

Faces flash in my mind. Faces of all the women I’ve dated. All of whom were my age or younger.

Huh… interesting.

“Lucas,” Candace says, emerging from her office. “So nice to see you.”

“Good afternoon, Candace. Thanks for working this in on short notice.”

“That’s what your daddy pays me to do. Come in, come in.”

Regan catches my eye and grins. As I thought, she’s amused that Candace is not, in fact, an old fart of an attorney, but an attractive plus-size black woman in her forties.

“Regan Lucas,” Candace says. “I thought I recognized your name when Lucas asked for this meeting. I’ve been in your shop once or twice. I just love McQuaid Circle.” She extends a hand. “Candace McMillan.”

Regan nods. “Yes. I remember you, Ms. McMillan.”

“Splendid.” She motions to a large table in the corner of her massive office. “Have a seat.”

As Candace sits at the head of the table in front of an open laptop, Stacey opens the door and pops in with a tray of coffee and various sugars and creamers.

“Thank you,” I say, watching Stacey eye Regan suspiciously. We’re definitely going to have an issue on our hands if that look means what I think it does.

“Candace.” I motion to Stacey. “This meeting is going to remain confidential, correct?”

She gets my meaning and smiles. “The two of you were never here.” Sending a firm look Stacey’s way, she confirms, “Were they?”

“No, ma’am.”

---