Page 58 of The Playboy's Most Unexpected Baby

Who am I kidding? He’s probably halfway back to Boston right now.

He had said that he wouldn’t go back, of course. He had promised that he would come home tonight so that they could talk. But she didn’t necessarily believe that. He had given her no reason to take him at his word about anything, even though she wished that she could — even though she would have liked to put faith in the idea that he would do her the simple courtesy of coming back to talk about where things stood between the two of them. Surely that wasn’t too much to ask for.

But maybe it was. He had certainly implied over and over — and on a couple of occasions, said outright — that he didn’t want anything beyond the professional with her. Maybe she just needed to take the hint.

Olivia closed her eyes and leaned her head back against her chair. If he didn’t come home tonight, she decided, she was going to stop putting herself through this. The house was Charlie’s outright now, so there was no reason to continue with the charade. If she didn’t speak to him tonight, she would list it for sale, and then she would move back into her own apartment.

Would he give her the twenty percent he had promised? She didn’t know. But she would still be the realtor on the sale of this house, and she would be entitled tosomecommission. Whatever she got, it would have to be enough — and it would be better than being trapped in this excruciating fake marriage to a man who couldn’t even bring himself to talk to her, even at a time such as this.

She heard the front door slam and bolted upright.

He’s here.

He had come back after all.

She couldn’t get up and go to greet him, even though she wanted to. She couldn’t force herself out of the chair. Once she saw the look on his face, she would know more than she did right now — she would have answers she wasn’t sure she was ready to face.

He found her quickly enough. She wasn't sure how he’d done it, since the lights were off and there was no sound of the television for him to follow, but he appeared in the doorway.

“Hey,” he said.

“You came back.”

“I told you I would.”

“But where have you been? It’s been hours.”

“I had errands to run.”

Olivia couldn’t quite believe what she was hearing. “You haderrandsto run?” she repeated.

“Yes.”

“I tell you I’m pregnant and you disappear for four hours because you want to go shopping?”

“Will you come into the kitchen, please?”

“I don’t know if I should!”

“Olivia, just… please. I’m asking you.”

“You have spent the last month not showing up for me, Charlie. Now you want me to go somewhere just because you’re asking me to?”

“Look, it’s just the kitchen,” he said. “I get the point you’re making, and if taking a stand here is that important to you I guess we can talk right here. But there’s something in the kitchen that I’d like to show you, if you can see your way to coming in there.”

She got to her feet. “Fine,” she said. If she didn’t cooperate, she knew, she would be handing him things to complain about, and that wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted to be the only one with a righteous complaint here. When they walked away from all this, he should be forced to acknowledge that she had never been anything but cooperative. That he had been the one to introduce all the problems and chaos.

She followed him into the kitchen, wondering what this could possibly be about — but as soon as she reached the threshold, she stopped short, staring in wonder.

The kitchen table was covered with shopping bags.

“What is all this?” she asked him.

“See for yourself.”

She went to the first of the bags and opened it. A flimsy piece of plastic was rolled up inside. She unrolled it and saw a pattern of wide-eyed puppy dogs.

She looked up at Charlie. “This is a paint stencil.”

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