CHAPTER THREE

      TO SAMANTHA, Italian food was what water was to plants—she had to have it at least once a week. So when Jack offered dinner at El Toula’s, a new Italian eatery in their neighborhood, she jumped at the chance.

      “This calamari fritti is absolutely delicious, Jack. Thanks for bringing me here tonight. It’s such a nice surprise, and it’s not even my birthday.” She dipped a piece of the fried squid into the marinara sauce on her plate.

      “I thought we deserved a break, and I confess to having an ulterior motive. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

      “I’m all ears, but I hope nothing’s wrong. I thought you seemed a little preoccupied tonight.”

      He shook his head. “Quite the contrary. Remember when you suggested that I start my own business? Well, I’ve been giving that idea of yours some more thought.”

      Her eyes widened. “You mean—? Oh, Jack, that’d be great! What made you change your mind?”

      “I spoke to Tom Adler today about the possibility of starting my own real estate company and he wants to buy in. He was very enthusiastic and made me feel that we could actually make it work.”

      She clapped her hands together. “That’s wonderful! Are you going to do it?”

      “I’m not sure. I still haven’t made up my mind. I want to do a bit more research, find out what’s involved. This would be a big undertaking, and I don’t want to screw it up.”

      “I can help. You know I’m a whiz at Internet research. Just let me know what you need.”

      He nodded. “I’d pay you for your time.”

      Samantha, who always felt uncomfortable about accepting Jack’s money, shrugged. “I’m happy to help whether or not you pay me, you know that. That’s what friends do. And God knows I could never repay you for everything you’ve done for me.”

      “I won’t allow you to work for free. Your time is valuable, what little you have of it. You’ve got your job at the coffee shop, your freelance articles, babysitting and you need to finish your novel.”

      “Tell me what you need in the way of research and I’ll get started on it first thing in the morning,” she said, ignoring his objections.

      His right brow shot up. “Should I assume that your magazine article has already been submitted?”

      “Yes,” she replied, making a face. “But they’ll probably blue-pencil it to death. And I’m not sure there’ll be much of an audience for what I wrote. After all, who wants to read about the trials and tribulations of an unpublished writer?”

      “A lot of people. Me, for instance.”

      “You’re just saying that because we’re friends and you feel sorry for me.”

      Jack sighed. “You always sell yourself short, Samantha. You need to have more confidence in your abilities. You’re good at what you do. And I’m not just saying that because we’re friends. I really think you have talent as a writer.”

      “Thank you,” she said quietly, pushing the calamari around her plate and silently debating whether or not to tell Jack about her plan to get pregnant. Samantha rarely kept secrets from him, but she wasn’t sure how he would react. Jack had been overly protective since grade school after all—this would probably freak him out completely.

      “I had lunch with Patty today,” she began.

      Jack’s face filled with distaste. He was not a Patty fan. “That woman is a piranha. Who’s she crucifying this week?”

      “It’s Patty’s job to take bad employers to task,” she rebutted. “Just because she goes for the throats of those corporate execs is—”

      “Throats? Ha! She goes straight for their balls and doesn’t let go until they’ve been castrated.”

      “Well, someone has to stand up for what’s right. And if Patty were a man, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. She takes her job seriously, and I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

      Jack set down his wineglass after taking a generous gulp of Chianti. “I know you like Patty, so I’ll try to temper my comments. But I admit, I’m glad you two are nothing alike. She’s too hard, too jaded, while you’re soft and kindhearted.”

      “Maybe if I had Patty’s backbone, her chutzpah, I’d be more successful. You can’t say she hasn’t done well for herself. She lives near the park, makes gobs of money, shops at all the really expensive stores.” Samantha sighed. “I’m still a regular Macy’s customer.”

      “I know she does well. But that doesn’t make her any more likeable.”

      Sipping her wine, Samantha said, “Anyway, I discussed an idea with Patty, something I’m planning to do.”

      “Is it something we’ve talked about?”

      “No, not yet.” She swallowed nervously. “I wasn’t quite sure how you’d take the news, so I tried it out on Patty first.” She feared Jack’s reaction would be pretty similar to her friend’s—he’d hate it. And Jack’s opinion was very important to her.

      “There’s not much you can say that will surprise me at this point. I think you know that.”

      She took a few moments, sipped more Chianti to bolster her courage and blurted, “I’ve decided to have a baby.”

      Eyes widening, Jack nearly choked on his veal parmesan and reached for his water glass. After a moment, he said, “I take it back. I’m surprised.” His brows drew together in confusion. “What am I missing here? Have you been dating someone that I don’t know about? Are you getting married?” He paled at the thought.

      “I don’t have a husband waiting in the wings. I’m doing this all on my own.”

      His right brow cocked. “Really? Now that would be interesting. As far as I know, there’s only been one immaculate conception.”

      “Ha! Ha! Ha! Very funny. Obviously I can’t impregnate myself. I’m going to need help with that. Care to volunteer?”

      He ignored her. “I assume since you’re not as ballsy as Patty that you’re talking about artificial insemination?”

      “It’s not my method of choice, but under the circumstances I don’t see another way.”

      “You could wait for the right man to come along, fall in love, get married. You know, the usual road to conception.”

      “I’ve been that route with no luck. You of all people should know that. We have that flaw in common.”

      “I don’t consider it a flaw. I consider it a lifestyle choice,” he retorted, adding, “Look, Samantha, I think you’d be making a big mistake if you go through with this crazy scheme of yours. You might think you want a child, but this