Page 69 of Geordie

“Despite everything that’s against us, I want you to be my sperm donor.”

Fuck me blind, this stubborn lass has nerve. “No. You’ve convinced me we’re not a match.” I pull her chair away from the island, stopping her foot from banging against the base.

“I’ll have my attorney contact you to draw up the papers,” she says, sliding off the stool.

“No.”

“You’re right. That’s not how we should begin the negotiations. Let me take you to dinner, or better yet, let me cook for you and we can outline conditions.”

“No.”

“A picnic?”

“No.”

“A barbeque?”

“No!”

She places her hands on her hips, looking up at me. “Geordie, you have to meet me halfway.”

“We’re not doing this.”

“I see you need to sleep on it,” she says breezily. “Call me when you’re ready to talk.”

“I’ll walk you to the door.”

Lily picks up her backpack, pushing her laptop inside, then hoists it over her shoulder. I stride in front of her to open the door. She glides past me, stopping on the threshold. “I don’t have a hidden agenda.”

“That would be different, lass. You’re all about secrets.”

She shakes her head, like she can’t believe this conversation. “You’re right, this is different for me, but it’s important that you trust me, so I’ve withdrawn Dalliance’s application.”

“Lochlan didn’t mention that you withdrew from consideration. He said the committee is visiting your restaurant this Sunday.”

“I emailed the committee before I came here. You’ll probably hear about it when you arrive at the office in the morning. I’m sure they won’t keep that news a secret.” She takes a step closer, placing a hand on my arm. “Geordie, we both want a family.” The words appear so genuine that I almost believe her. “Together, we can do this and be the best parents for our child.

She pulls her hand away when I give no response. When she steps into the hall, I close the door.

I walk through the apartment, turning off lights as I go. It feels like the quiet after an explosion. I can’t believe Lily coming here in the middle of the night to plead her case. She looked like a teenager in that hoodie, jeans, and chucks, with a pink backpack over her shoulder. I reluctantly chuckle at the memory. No one has piqued my interest or fired my urges more than Lily. It might be fun trying to make a baby with that irritating woman. I’m not quite ready for my bed. I stare at the view, thinking. Having a child with someone is a lifetime commitment. Do I want her in my life for the rest of my days? Right now, the answer is no.

Chapter thirty-three

Make me a Rock Star

Lily

There’sanarcticbreezecoming from my long-suffering partner seated next to me. Harv's frosty and barely keeping up with my nervous conversation, while we wait to see the restaurant consultant. He's still angry about me withdrawing our application from Catriona. He understands the reason, but he's still not happy.

We're escorted into a paneled office, a view of the city to the left. Behind the desk is Bradford Laramie, with iron-gray hair that's in need of a cut, a barrel chest encased in a dark suit that's barely contained by one button. He’s the most notorious and colorful restaurant consultant in the business.

“I'm glad we could meet today,” he says, sweeping a hand to indicate the two chairs in front of his desk. “I've gone over your analysis and I think we can help. You are not a restaurant that's in trouble, you're doing well, reviews are consistently high. I see you told our reviewer that your goal is a Michelin star.”

“We chose your company because you have a reputation of helping restaurants gain star ratings,” Harv says, glancing at me for confirmation. He's better at this partner stuff than I am.

Bradford flips over a page in a file that he's reviewing. “Yes, we've been successful in helping a few restaurants with that goal. As you know, there are a few factors that will attract a Michelin inspector: consistent quality of the food, service, publicity, and the reputation of the chef. Your restaurant is well known in the Bay Area.” He casts a glance at me, like I'm about to be sent to detention. “I see very little information or publicity about you personally.”

“I tend to shy away from publicity; I'm better in the kitchen,” I admit.