Page 87 of Mr. Not Quite Perfect

“Really?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “You just said that this was the first time—”

“I know what I said,” I groaned. “Fuck, I don’t believe this.”

“Just don’t have unprotected sex again for the rest of the week.”

“I won’t,” I said. I bit down on my lower lip. “Trust me. Do you think I should tell him?”

She stared at me for a few seconds and sighed. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s your boss, and you don’t know him that well, and it’s not like you guys are in a relationship. I feel like he could get really nervous if you tell him that, ‘Hey, you might have knocked me up this morning.’”

“Well, he could have been listening, too,” I said. “I’m not the only one who had sex unprotected this morning. He’s the one who chose to come inside me. He knows I just got on the pill.”

“But you know men. They’re stupid. He probably thought that the first day you took the pill, you were covered.”

“I mean, I thought that, too.” I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead. “Fudge. I can’t believe this.”

“It’ll be okay, Molly.” She grinned. “It’s highly unlikely you’ll get knocked up from—”

“Can you please stop saying ‘knocked up’?”

“Sorry.” She laughed. “I don’t know why I like that phrase so much.”

“I don’t know, either, because if it was you, you wouldn’t be laughing about it.”

“I’m not laughing, Molly. Trust me.”

“Uh-huh. Oh my God. I could. Absolutely—”

“What are you two talking about?”

I looked up and saw Travis’s face staring down at me with a glint in his eyes that I recognized.

“Not much,” I said, smiling. “How did your talk go just now?”

“Not bad. Not bad,” he said. “Looks like the Brazil office has been secured.”

“Oh?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. We’ve just secured a building in Rio de Janeiro, and they’re going to start ordering the furniture.”

“Oh, that’s amazing,” I said, giving him an impish smile.

“So I was wondering if I could talk to you privately for a second please, Molly?”

I looked over at Poppy, whose eyes were wide, and I nodded as I stood. “Sure,” I said. “What is it?” Had he overheard my and Poppy’s conversation? He couldn’t have. There’s no way he’d be smiling like that if he’d heard that I was possibly pregnant.

“Well, I was thinking,” he said as he escorted me toward the back of the plane.

“Oh, Travis, darling!” Pascal said, jumping up from her seat and walking toward us with the glass of champagne. “I just wanted to thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Oh, you’re welcome, darling,” he said, smiling at her.

“And I was thinking that—”

“Sorry, can we continue this in a moment? I need to speak to Molly,” he said, looking at Pascal in a polite but dismissive fashion.

I smiled to myself.Take that Pascal, bitch.

“Okay,” she said, looking slightly disappointed as she made her way back to her seat.

---