LITMIR.BIZ

      CHAPTER THREE

      KARL AVOIDED VIVIAN for the rest of the weekend. He made sure there was food in the house for her to eat, left his laptop out for her to use and otherwise stayed away.

      Back at the library, when he’d put his hand on Vivian’s back, he let himself imagine their connection was more than just her pregnancy. In that moment, the certainty about Vivian he’d felt in Las Vegas had broken through reality, and the enjoyment he’d gotten from leading her away from Miles scared him. He hadn’t enjoyed silencing Miles—he’d enjoyed feeling Vivian’s shoulder blades shift when he put his hand on her coat.

      Hopefully she’d find a job soon and move out.

      Given the fight she’d put up over the stupid winter coat, he didn’t think she’d welcome being set up in her own apartment like some kept woman. But if she had a job, she might not turn down an offer of help to finance her own place.

      Of course, if she were actually a kept woman, he would be able to sweep her hair aside and kiss the nape of her neck....

      At work on Monday, Greta came into his office with some paperwork and his plans to keep Vivian a secret from his employees died.

      “Does your mother know you’re married?” She used the papers to gesture to the marriage license sitting in plain sight on his desk.

      Karl looked from the benefits application on his computer to his overly maternal assistant. She was one of the few people who could outwait his ploy of ignoring a question, but he held out his hand for the papers and tried anyway.

      She folded them against her chest. “When did you get married?”

      “The papers, Greta.” His hand stayed outstretched in supplication.

      “You can’t not tell me. What do I do if she calls?”

      “She won’t call.” Or not again. Vivian had health insurance and a roof over her head. What more could she want right now?

      “So you are married. No one in the office is going to believe this.” The papers crinkled in her hands as she clenched her fists in excitement.

      “No one in the office is going to know.”

      “Was she the woman calling the office on Friday?”

      He waggled his fingers at her and she finally gave him the papers, along with a gust of cigarette fumes that had been lingering on her clothing.

      “She was—oh, and I was so short with her.” Greta didn’t leave the office. She’d handed over the paperwork, but she remained standing with her eyebrows raised at him, hoping for more information.

      Despite a tendency to mother, Greta was a great legal assistant. She’d been working in the city’s inspector general’s office longer than anyone else in the building, and Karl was fairly certain that she’d be working here long after his tenure was up. He threw her a bone. “I met her in Las Vegas. But,” he added, before she had a chance to beam and I-told-you-so, “don’t think you can take credit or tell anyone about this.”

      “No more information?” The quickness with which her eyebrows collapsed amplified the ridiculousness of this entire situation.

      “No.”

      “You should still tell your mother.”

      “What makes you think I haven’t?”

      “You don’t lie outright, so if you won’t tell me that you have told her, I can only assume you haven’t. She’ll want to know.” Having said her piece, Greta left his office.

      Since he hadn’t gotten a phone call from his mother, it would seem Miles and Renia hadn’t told her yet, either. Maybe he could put off telling his mother for another eight months and present her with a daughter-in-law and a grandchild at the same time. She might be so overwhelmed at the grandchild that she’d overlook the surprise daughter-in-law.

      “You’re married?”

      Karl looked up from his computer again to see the director of investigations staring at him from the doorway. Malcolm’s dark black

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