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into the crook of his arm. I lay my head on this chest. He sighed. “She’ll be happy to talk about it. She can’t wait to be a grandmother. She’s beside herself with joy.”
    “Aren’t you excited to be a...what will you be? A second cousin? An uncle, really?” I raised my head and looked up but couldn’t see his face in the dark.
    “I’m excited that Abigail will finally get off my back. She’s been riding me for years about having kids. But thanks to Lauren, she’s eased up a bit.” He pulled the blankets up over both of us and kissed the top of my head. “Abigail will give you all the details. Let’s get some sleep.” His voice trailed off.
    I swallowed hard. He sounded so annoyed at the prospect of children. We hadn’t talked about kids yet. Did William even want kids? I really wished I could have seen his face. Maybe then I could have read more into his words. Maybe this was something we should talk about—the two of us, having a family some day.
    I yawned.
    But not tonight.

Four
    M onday morning I had a major vacation hangover. Watching William get ready for work had me missing our trip. We’d spent days alone together, just the two of us. I felt more connected to him than ever and I didn’t want that feeling to end. But William had an empire to run and I had deadlines of my own. So after a quick workout, shower, and bowl of yummy granola prepared by William’s cook, I headed to the study to get some work out of the way.
    I couldn’t complain. Photography was my passion, and it hardly even seemed like work. I took a moment with my mug of dark roast to admire the view from William’s study. I really needed to get my camera out on the terrace. The frozen lake was an expanse of white and grey and in vivid contrast to the clear blue sky overhead. I knew that meant the air outside was crisp, but not too cold.
    Look at me , I thought, so in tune with Chicago’s weather . More and more this city was starting to feel like home, and I had William to thank for that. Despite my intense desire to get back to my condo, I had to admit that I could get used to the amazing view from my new workspace. William had gone out of his way to make me comfortable. My desk was outfitted with a top-of-the-line Mac, equipped with the latest photo-editing software. I had a printer, a scanner, and two monitors, one of which was giant—bigger than my TV.
    I woke up the Mac. On the smaller screen, I had a document open with the proposal I’d written for Hutch Morrison for his digital cookbook project. I’d put it together almost immediately after our first meeting, and he’d barely looked it over before offering me the job.
    I’d been so excited that I’d gushed about it to William for ten minutes before I’d realized he wasn’t saying anything. “So what do you think?” I’d asked.
    “Morrison is a great chef,” William had replied coolly.
    That was an understatement, although it was high praise coming from William, whose own culinary skills were right up there with some of the best chefs in the city—at least in my humble opinion. “This is such a fantastic opportunity for me. I really think a project like this could take me to the next level.”
    “I don’t know. Are you sure that’s what you want to do? A project like this might take you away from other opportunities.”
    “Of course, I’m sure. Hutch is at the top of his game and this project is innovative and unique. I would learn a lot and get some great exposure. I can’t believe he thought of me for it.”
    That was when I’d caught the look on his face. He’d tried to hide it, but I knew him well enough to know when he didn’t like something. His mouth had turned down slightly, and his eyes had iced to blue. It had hit me. William didn’t want me working with Hutch Morrison.
    “Wait, is it Hutch you’re worried about?” I’d asked, but William had changed the subject.
    He hadn’t brought my working with Hutch up again, and since then,