"Sophie not have a baby in her tummy," Bella adds helpfully and shakes her head.
Meredith's eyes widen. "Bella!" She shoots me an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry. Stupid parenting books advised to be as honest with her as possible. I wish I had lied and told her a gnome would be dropping the baby off like I wanted to."
“It’s fine.” I wave off her apology.
"Thank you for the altruistic offer, Meredith, but I'm going to send Sophie home in my car and have Alexander drop me at the hospital."
Meredith pouts. "You just don't want me to have any time alone with Sophie."
"You're correct." He smiles at her. "Besides, you can use the time working on manners with my niece," he tells her as he ushers me through the front door.
Chapter 19
"You drive, right?" Luke asks as he walks me to his car and opens the driver's side door for me.
"Of course."
"Great." He reaches past me and pushes a button and the car roars to life. He drops the keys onto the center console before tapping the built-in GPS screen. "I'll grab a cab from the hospital when I'm done," he tells me as he buckles me into the seat and presses a button, sliding the seat forward to accommodate my shorter height.
"I'm sorry, Sophie," he says and then he's gone, walking back towards the front door where Alexander is waiting. I'm left alone with a car that I suspect costs more than my college education.
I put it into drive and the GPS immediately encourages me to turn right at the end of the driveway. I'm not even sure if I'm headed to my dorm or Luke's condo, but the car seems to know.
The gates swing open automatically as I near them and I turn onto Monk Road. I'm numb as I drive, replaying the day. Was that as horrible as I think it was? I want to call Jeannie or Everly but I have no idea how to operate the hands-free phone system in this car.
Why did he invite me today? His mother is a nightmare. Was I just a distraction to foil her setup attempt? The only person he introduced me to as his girlfriend was his mother.
Learning Gina is his ex-fiancée makes me uncomfortable, like he lied to me. Did he? Kind of. She's way more than the no one he indicated she was, but was it my business at the time I asked? Whatever, I'm still pissed.
That was the saddest Thanksgiving ever.
The GPS is directing me to his condo. I tap my thumbs on the steering wheel as I drive and I get progressively more pissed off as the miles pass. The garage door at 10 Rittenhouse Square opens automatically as I pull up. I assume this fancy car has a sensor to match his fancy condo. I park in Luke's spot and think.
What am I supposed to do now? Did Luke indicate if he'd see me later? I have his keys. Did he send me home with his car to wait for him? Am I supposed to let myself into his place or did he just want me out of his parents' house?
I'm over this day. I lock the car and take the elevator to the lobby. I know there's a concierge, I've seen him when we've walked through the lobby to the adjoining Italian restaurant Serafina. It occurs to me now how convenient it is for Luke to take me out to dinner at a restaurant in the lobby of his condo. We go from dinner to fucking without ever leaving the building.
My heels click across the empty marble lobby. It's so quiet, everyone has somewhere to be for the holiday. I set the keys on the counter in front of the concierge, a well-dressed man I estimate to be in his forties.
"Would you see that these get to Dr. Miller?"
"Of course, Miss Tisdale." He's the model of professionalism, impeccable in a gray suit and black tie, not a hair out of place. If he finds it odd that I'm leaving Luke's keys with him he doesn't show it, but maybe this is a common occurrence.
Wait. "How do you know my name?"
"It's my job to know." He offers a polite smile and I wonder how many names he's had to memorize. "Do you need a ride somewhere?"
"No, thank you. I can get a cab out front."
"We have a courtesy town car on site," he says, picking up a phone behind the desk. "I insist."
I'm not going to bicker with him about how I get home so I gracefully accept his offer and head out front, where a black Mercedes is already idling at the curb. The doorman holds the car door open for me so I slide in and give the driver my address.
* * *
Back in my room, I shut the door behind me and lean against it. It's oddly quiet, most everyone gone for the long weekend. Jean won't be back until Sunday. I straighten and check my phone. No messages. I kick off my heels and peel off my nylons before unzipping my dress.
Rummaging through my dresser, I look for something comforting to wear and find a small wrapped package on top of my flannel pajama bottoms. I slip the pants on with an old Penn tee shirt and sit on the edge of my bed with the package.