The Knocked Up Plan(34)

“Work harder. Work faster.”

“I said the trapeze was fun.” I clench my fists tight at my sides. The more he breathes fire at me, the more I miss the olden days as the Consummate Wingman, when I set my own hours, focused on the clients, and worked on my own terms. I delivered the goods and didn’t have to convince a boxed-in boss that I had his sponsors’ best interests at heart.

“Yes, you did mention the fun,” Cal concedes, then straightens his pastel pink tie. “But why not talk about how the trapeze and the catch and the acrobatics helped you and the woman connect? That’s what our advertisers are backing; that’s the content they want to support. Talk about the romance. Talk about how you got to know her better.” He arches one salt-and-pepper brow. “Did you get to know her better?”

The question is pointed, inquisitive, and none of his fucking business.

And yet, it’s precisely his business.

Literally, because I charged the trapeze lessons to my corporate card, and figuratively, because the success of these dates is the only thing between me and keeping my fucking job.

Images snap before my eyes—a half-empty exercise room, my book in the bargain bin at the bookstore, a phone that doesn’t ring with client inquiries anymore. Good thing I socked plenty of royalties and fat paydays away in the bank, untouched by Maggie. Still, the cushion is thinning.

“Did you?” he asks again, waiting.

I rub my hand over the back of my neck, remembering the way Nicole flirted on the platform, how she announced to Callie I was going to knock her up, how she so willingly took on each challenge on the swing. But I learned, too, that she’s not balls-to-the-wall all the time. The neighbor nearly killed her drive. But even when she was embarrassed that night, she was unafraid to speak her mind.

And once she let go, boy, did she ever let go.

The woman is everything you’d think a dating and sex columnist would be—uninhibited. Goddamn, it was hot. It was hot on Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday night, too.

Yes, we’ve been practicing baby-making every night. It’s not a tough job, and hell, am I glad I get to do it.

“Yes, I got to know her,” I tell Cal.

“And did you like her?”

Now he’s really getting personal. “We had a great time.”

He beams and drops a hand on my shoulder, squeezing in a paternal way. “Now, talk more about that next time. You set the agenda for the show. The callers will follow your lead. I have faith you’ll get there.”

He turns and walks the other way, and I briefly contemplate finding the nearest boxing gym and signing up for lessons right the fuck now. I blow out a long, frustrated stream of air that does nothing to release the coiled tension in my body.

When I spin around to head to my office, Nicole is walking toward me. She looks good enough to eat in her tight jeans and a pink sweater that hugs her breasts deliciously. My eyes shamelessly tour her body—her curvy hips, her long legs, her gorgeous face.

The tension in me unwinds, and I breathe again.

But it’s short-lived when an unpleasant notion touches down. I hope to God Nicole didn’t hear that exchange. I don’t want her to know exactly how short a leash I’m on. It doesn’t exactly cast me in the best light.

“Hey,” she says, her blue eyes soft. “You okay?”

I try to school my expression, to erase any residue of annoyance. “Definitely.”

She shoots me a skeptical look. “Are you sure?”

I’m not going to air my dirty laundry with her. She didn’t ask me to knock her up so she could hear about my shitty encounters with my boss. I change the subject. I let my gaze drift purposefully down her body. “Have we got a date with your uterus tonight?” I ask in my best dirty tone, even though there’s nothing sensual about the word uterus. “If memory serves, we were going to try position number three, so we don’t get addicted to position one.”

“Ooh,” she says with a naughty edge to her voice. “But position one is so good.” She inches closer. “I love getting on my hands and knees for you.”

A groan rumbles up my chest, and my dick springs to attention. “And now you’ve made it virtually impossible for me to work the rest of the day.”

She wiggles an eyebrow. “But before we try position three, I think we should tackle something from your list.”

“Cupcake tasting?” Cal will like that. I’ll talk about cupcakes on air like a goddamn boy scout.

“I have something else in mind. Can you be ready by seven?”

Color me intrigued.

I say yes.



I lunge to the right, skidding across the court as I reach for the racquetball, slamming it to the wall. The blue orb screams back at Flynn. He grunts as he attacks it with a ferocity that sends it spiraling to the wall once more.