Making His Baby(4)

By: Lulu Pratt



“That’s okay, really,” I say as I find my voice, which is a little too high-pitched at the moment. “Really.”

This guy has a presence about him that suggests power and dominance. I can already sense it.

“No, it’s not,” he says firmly. “But at least the glasses were empty. We’ll count that as a win.”

“Oh, well, I can’t drink them anyway. So maybe I wish they were full.” It was an attempt at a joke, even though I’m not even sure what the joke even means. I have to work hard to keep my voice steady. I just want to come off as funny and not uptight.

“You can’t have a drink while you’re working?” He asks. For the first time, he looks at me. Those eyes really are piercing, and I have to work not to gasp when I look into them. “That’s a shame.”

“Don’t feel too sorry for me. I’ve been sneaking sips when my boss isn’t looking.”

“And yet, I still do. How about this?” He stands up as he piles the glass shards onto my empty tray. “Hey, what are you doing after this? I think you and I could both use a drink.”

I don’t know what to say. He has completely caught me off guard. Yet, I don’t come across men like this too often or ever. As such, there is only one thing that I can say.

“Sure,” I reply, trying my best to sound coy and not a nervous wreck. “I’d like that.”





Chapter 3


BLAKE





This bar is one that I know only too well, only for the wrong reasons. It’s because of its location near the high school that my friends and I used to try to sneak in here all the time. Now I don’t even need to show identification.

I was going to leave the reunion           early, as I’d shown my face, listened to small talk, and needed to get out of there. However, when Clark caused that waitress to stumble and drop the glasses, I felt something else entirely.

I knew I had a reason to stay if only to see if the attractive waitress could leave her shift early. Fortunately, she’d managed, so now we are here.

She is stunning as she sits beside me. Her long brown hair is tied back in a ponytail because of her job. Even though she wears loose jeans and a loose blouse, again for work, I can tell that she has a fit body, one typical of an L.A. beach girl.

But it’s her eyes that caught me. They are the most beautiful shade of hazel I have ever seen. They’re also deep, too, as if she is hiding a secret. Something that she doesn’t want anyone else to know. I can’t stop staring into them.

“So, you’re from around here then?” She asks as she takes a sip of her beer. We’re sitting in the back on the bar, hidden from the drunken locals who currently populate it.

“What makes you say that?” I ask with a coy smile as I take a swig from my own drink, a vodka soda. The fact that she ordered a beer has me impressed, though. If it wasn’t for the fact that I ordered first, I would have gotten the same.

“Well, you led me here like you come here all the time. Either that or you have built-in radar for local, crummy bars. Plus, I mean, you were at the high-school reunion          . So, obviously, you went to school here.”

“Perceptive,” I say, smirking. “I used to live in the area, and I used to come here a lot, when I could get in. Would you be surprised if I told you it hasn’t changed at all?”

“I think I would be more surprised to find out that it had changed.” She smiles at her own joke. It’s the first time that I’ve seen it, and it only makes her more beautiful.

“Not much does around here,” I respond as I chuckle at her joke. “I swear the bartender has looked eighty-five for the past fifty years.” I indicate to the bartender, currently cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. He looks like he could be anywhere between fifty and a hundred.

“Does that include you?” She asks. “Did you wear expensive suits and watches when you were in high school? Boy, I bet that made you popular.”

“No, no. I was more of a basketball shorts, T-shirt kind of a guy in high school. With the occasional button down, when I was feeling fancy.”

“Oh, that is fancy,” she jokes as she takes another sip of her beer, more of a swig than a sip really. “So, what do you do that allowed you to swap the shorts for suits?”

I hesitate. As mentioned, I’m not big on telling people what I do, at least not when I first meet them. And if it was anyone else, then I probably wouldn’t have said anything.

But there is something different about Carrie. I find myself wanting to impress her, which is odd for me.

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