“Allan, you’ll regret it.”
“Hey, my intentions are honorable.” At that moment, they were. “And he’s our future family, right?” I got into the elevator. “I’m just going to look at his drawings.”
The doors slid shut and I leaned up against the wall, too excited to stand.
* * * *
Davinder’s office was three blocks away from my house.
It was a two-story building—brand new. I could smell the sawdust around the staircase. The paint was still fresh. I saw the jazzy sign on the door.
Lamontagne Inc.
That was his last name. I knocked. Moments later, I heard Davinder call out, “It’s open.”
“Hi,” I said, stepping inside. I stayed by the door. “You haven’t been here long, have you?”
“Actually.” Davinder didn’t meet me at the door. He stood by a desk, shuffling papers. He wore a fitted black shirt and his dark hair shone almost blue under the ceiling light. “Been here all day.”
“I meant the building.”
“No. Moved in last month.”