The Boss's Marriage Plan. GINA WILKINS

nor even for awkward pauses. Today had been all about work, catching up and looking ahead. As she’d assured her friends, compartmentalizing wasn’t really that difficult for her and Scott. When they were in the office, nothing was more important to them than taking care of business.

      As if in response to her thoughts, he stuck his head in the open doorway to her office. “What’s Art Connolly’s wife’s name?”

      “Debbie. And their son is Art Jr., but they call him Buzz.”

      “Debbie. Buzz. Got it. Heading out for the meeting. Shoot me a text if you need anything.”

      “Okay. Have a good—” But he was gone before she could finish the sentiment.

      Her mouth twisted in a wry smile. If nothing else had demonstrated how efficiently Scott could put their Saturday-evening conversation out of his mind, that little exchange would have done the trick. There had been nothing at all personal in his tone or expression, no meeting of eyes, no more warmth in his voice than she heard when he spoke with the receptionist on his way out. She couldn’t imagine any observer would even suspect that less than forty-eight hours earlier, Scott had all but asked her outright to consider having his children.

      Had their conversation even crossed his mind this morning? Despite how busy she’d been, it had hovered constantly at the back of hers. Did that mean they were already unevenly invested in this looming decision? Was it really of little import to him if she accepted his offer or politely declined? Was he less concerned about the repercussions—maybe because he didn’t believe he would be as deeply affected in the long run? Had he changed his mind, had later misgivings about his impulsive suggestions, or was he really too wrapped up in business today to give anything else a second thought?

      “Um, Tess?”

      Blinking, she glanced toward the doorway to find a heavily pregnant young woman standing there studying her with a slight frown. She got the distinct impression it wasn’t the first time her name had been spoken. “I’m sorry, Heather, I was distracted. What can I do for you?”

      “The next applicant for my job is here for her interview. And I wanted to remind you I’m leaving a little early today for a doctor’s appointment.”