Page 25 of The Accidental Wife

“I’ll hold onto that image if I were you,” She chides, scowling at me. “Because you will never see it again.” With that, she spins on her heels and walks to the bathroom.

“Hey, never say never,” I call out after her

“EVER!” She looks back at me once more before she disappears into the bathroom. “You better not peek.” I walk over to my desk grinning wickedly. She’s so easy to wind up. I love it.

“Activate cameras!” I shout after a couple of minutes, just loud enough so she could hear me.

“What?! Cole, I swear to God, you better be joking!” She hollers from the bathroom, and I crack up laughing, picturing her covering herself up and looking around for any cameras.

“Come on, no need to cover up baby…let me see you.”

“God damn it COLE!” I snicker and lean back against my chair at my desk.

“I’m kidding, relax, there are no cameras. What the hell do you take me for?” I ask, and she mutters something in return, but I couldn’t make it out from the sound of the shower running.

Ten minutes later, I see her hand sticking out from the door. “Shirt?” I chuckle and get up from my chair and walk over to her. I pick up the pale blue Prada shirt and hand it to her. “Thank you.”

I turn my back to the door to give her some privacy, and when I hear her footsteps behind me, I turn to face her. The shirt was three sizes too big for her, so she rolled the sleeves up and tied a knot at the bottom half around her midriff, showing her smooth tan stomach. She catches me watching her and looks down at herself and back at me again. “What? Does it look bad?”

I shake my head and smile, “No. Not at all. It looks better on you than it ever did on me.” She smiles a little and blushes. “One thing…” I step closer to her and fix the collar of the shirt. “There, much better.”

“Thank you. I’m done in there if you want to shower. I’ll towel dry my hair a little and get out of your way.” I nod and rub the back of my neck.

“No problem.” I brush past her and walk to the bathroom. By the time I finish showering, she had already left my office and was at her desk typing away on her keyboard. I didn’t see her much for the rest of the day unless I was in a meeting and needed her to take minutes. I’d catch glimpses of her as she walks past my office with files in her arms.

I was so busy working that I hadn’t even noticed the time had gone past six, and the office was near enough empty. I look over at Shayla’s desk and see her focussed on something in front of her, a pen cap in her mouth, her eyes narrowing as she concentrates on whatever she was working on.

I lean over and push the intercom and watch as she starts when it buzzes on her end. She looks over at me before she reaches over and pushes the speak button. “Yes.”

“I’m all done for the day. Are we still going to mine to go over the contract?” I ask, and she nods back at me.

“Yes, unless you have other plans, in which case we can always rearrange.” I shake my head and loosen my tie.

“No. I just wanted to check you were still up for it.”

“Sure,” She replies, “Best we get it out of the way, right?”

“Exactly. You ready to go then?” I ask, and she nods and begins gathering her things, straightening her desk. I pick up my briefcase and pull my suit jacket on before I walk out of the office.

“Ready?”

“Yes, but my car is here.” She states with a shrug.

“You can leave the car here, and I’ll drop you off home and pick you up tomorrow morning,” I explain as we walk over to the elevators.

“Are you sure that’s not too much trouble for you?” I smile and shake my head as we step into the elevator, and I push the button to the car park.

“Of course not. It’s no problem at all.” I assure her leaning against the side. Shayla tucks a loose strand of her hair behind her ear and looks at me sideways before nodding.

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

We step out of the elevator and walk to my car. “There they are!” Shayla and I both jump when we hear a group of people with cameras rushing toward us.

“Oh shit.” I curse, and Shayla looks up at me worriedly. “Paparazzi. Keep your head down.” I tell her, and she shifts behind me, shielding herself from the cameras. I lace my fingers with hers and pull her hurriedly toward my car.

“Tristan! Tristan, is that your wife? Is it true she’s pregnant with your first child?”

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