Pippa
“Wow. You’re fast.”
I walk through the waiting room and office attached to the garage. The paint fumes are minimal, courtesy of the non-toxic paint I paid a mint for, and the fact Ira has thrown every door and window open.
Rather than a pure white, I picked a warm pale gray, and Ira has done a good job painting all the walls in here. It looks really good.
He sticks his head out of the small customer bathroom.
“Doing the final coat in here with the dregs of the paint. Have you made a decision on those store shelves?”
The previous owner had a shelving unit and a small cooler against the far wall, according to Ira. He said they mostly sold drinks and snacks, but also things like air fresheners, motor oils, tire patch kits, antifreeze, that kind of stuff. The shelving unit was left behind, but the cooler had disappeared.
Ira offered to spray paint the shelving unit, to freshen it up, but I’m not sure I want the hassle of selling merchandise. It would require at least one other person here, in addition to Ira, at all times and so far, I haven’t had much luck finding part-time office help.
“If you have time to paint them, then go for it,” I suggest. “But until I can find someone for the office, I don’t want to make a decision on getting in merchandise. We can always use the shelving for storage in the garage though.”
Ira grunts and ducks back into the bathroom.
A man of few words, but he works hard. It only took him a couple of days to give this place a fresh look. I peek into the garage to see if the new sign has been delivered. It’s supposed to be dropped off today but it doesn’t look like it has yet.
Ira had a tip and directed me to a signage place in town. Luckily, the old lighted marquee box was still working and all we needed was a panel with the new name. Still not cheap, but I decided to bite the bullet since these guys were able to promise a three-day turnaround. It’s my own fault after doing nothing with this place for over a month after buying it to suddenly being in a rush to get it up and running.
You pay for speed and I want this place open after the weekend. I plan to be here but I have to fly under the radar since I’m not supposed to be working. Last thing I need is for someone to get wind of the fact I don’t have a work visa and get it in their head to report me. That’s why it’s so important I find someone to do things like answer the phone and deal with the paperwork, at least part of the time.
I head back out to my truck to grab the bags of supplies and the old coffee maker Lucy gave me for the waiting room. Reaching into the rear of the cab, I hear the crunch of tires on gravel and look up to see an SUV pull in on the other side of the truck. I back out with my arms full and bump the door shut with my hip.
“Marcie told me I could probably find you here.”
I silently curse my friend as I turn around to face Cade Jackson. The man whose phone calls I’ve been dodging for a while now.
“Oh wow,” he says when he sees the load in my arms. “Here, let me give you a hand.”
“That’s okay, I’m—”
The coffee maker is plucked from my hands and so is one of the bags.
“Where to?” he asks with a smile, a little too hopeful.
I’m mad at myself. This is going to be an uncomfortable situation, and I could have prevented it if I’d only answered one of his calls. I can’t really be pissed at Marcie, I figure he probably hounded her as much as he did me, and she did tell me a while ago I should let him know I’m not interested. I didn’t want to bother, and now I have to deal with the consequences. I’ve kind of been avoiding Marcie recently as well.
All right, let’s get this over with, but I’ll feel more comfortable blowing him off inside within earshot of Ira.
“Inside. Follow me.”
I walk up to the reception desk and lift the bags on the counter. He steps up beside me and does the same with the stuff he was carrying. He looks around the space with curiosity.
“Marcie told me you bought this place?”
“I did, last month.”
He turns toward me and I wince at the pleased expression on his face.
“Good to know you’ve decided to stick around.”
“Well, I have, but—”
“You know, I’ve been trying to get a hold of you,” he starts. “Did you get a local phone plan?”
I take a deep, fortifying breath in.
“No, I haven’t yet. I did notice you called a few times, but to be honest I’ve had my hands full. Trying to get this place open, among other things.”
I put a hand on my belly. It’s a cheap shot, but I have a feeling it’ll take more than just words to dissuade him from his pursuit. Maybe this bump will get the message across without the need to actually tell him I’m not interested.
His eyes drop down to where I lightly rub the swell visible under my T-shirt. With the weather warming up, I’ve stopped wearing bulky sweaters and jackets, but I’m going to have to invest in some maternity wear because I’m fast outgrowing my wardrobe. People are going to know and I don’t actively want to hide this bump, but I also don’t want to flaunt it.
“Oh. Wow. I…uhh…had no idea. Yeah, I can see your hands are full. Wow,” he repeats, clearly stunned. “I wonder why Marcie didn’t mention this.”
Shit. Marcie.
The moment he leaves, I’m gonna have to get on the horn before she finds out from him. She’ll be upset enough I didn’t share sooner, as it is.
“Actually, I haven’t exactly had a chance to mention it to her. I only found out recently myself.”
His eyes slowly make their way up to my face, and I feel a little violated to be honest. Then he suddenly darts a glance over my shoulder.
Without looking behind me, I know Sully just walked in the door.
I haven’t seen him these past days, which sort of puzzled me. I would’ve expected him to try and convince me to move in like he suggested, but he didn’t even call me about the insurance, which he said he would do. Of course he would show up now, as I’m trying to let Cade down easy.
The entire atmosphere in here goes electric. I don’t get a chance to turn around before he closes in behind me, sliding a hand around to cover mine on my belly.
Any other time I might’ve been moved, but this isn’t a tender moment, this is a blatantly obvious public display of ownership. He could’ve yelled ‘mine’ or peed on me and the message wouldn’t have been any clearer.
“Hey, Honey,” he mumbles, his lips brushing the shell of my ear.
I bristle with annoyance, but my body betrays me with a delicious buzz at his touch.
Sully
“That was unnecessary.”
Her eyes flash with anger when she turns them on me.
I turn back to the window and watch that asshole, Jackson, pull out on the road. I want to make sure he’s gone. In hindsight, I should’ve recognized the way he was talking about Pippa as interest the first time met I him out near Troy.
I did not like walking into Pippa’s shop, catching him with his eyes on her body. Not only that, I could tell from her body language she wasn’t enjoying this encounter. That really didn’t sit well. So, my move to lay claim on her in a way he couldn’t miss was very necessary.
“I could tell you didn’t like him in your space, so I took care of it,” I explain.
“Good move. I was about to step in there myself.”
I turn around and see Ira Nelson walking toward us. That’s right, Pippa mentioned hiring him. Libby isn’t that big so I know the man, we bump into each other from time to time.
Right now, I’m grateful for the show of support because it looks like Pippa wasn’t convinced by my explanation. On the positive side, she now appears equally annoyed with Ira.
“I was handling it,” she says defensively.
“No, you weren’t,” Ira answers for me. “I heard your conversation and he doesn’t sound like the kind of guy who gives up easily. Not tryin’ to be an ass, but I’m not so sure that baby would’a scared him off.” He cocks his thumb at me. “Man like Sully might.”
I’m thinking I’m really going to like having Ira around.
“Ugh,” Pippa grunts disgustedly before turning her back on both of us and walking into the garage.
“That baby yours?” Ira asks right as I hear a door slam in the back. “Bathroom,” he adds by way of explanation.
“It is,” I confirm, and I catch myself doing it almost proudly.
Ira nods and disappears through a door.
Now that the shock has worn off, I am starting to feel a bit excited. It helps I was finally able to pin down Fletch this morning and clear the air, so to speak. He spent most of his time in the hospital with Nella, so I ended up looking for him there. It worked out to my advantage, since that conversation went down beside Nella’s hospital bed. No way he was going to bust my face with his pregnant wife looking on.
He had a few choice words for me, accused me of crossing the line, and I didn’t bother arguing with him. Mainly because I agree. Not so much in sleeping with her, but in how I treated her after. I definitely crossed a line there.
He demanded to know how I was planning to look after Pippa and the baby. I told him in no uncertain words that was none of his business, that Pippa and I would work that out, but I did swear to him and Nella there’s no way I’d fuck Pippa over.
That’s what I came here for, to tell her I cleared the air with Fletch and to let her know about Sloane.
A whole other kettle of fish.
My twenty-one-year-old niece is having a meltdown because apparently my sister, Isobel—Sloane’s mother—has a boyfriend.
I have to say it knocked me for a loop when she told me, I don’t think Izzy has seen anyone since Nick. Not really a surprise, my sister may have survived her ordeal, but her trust in men received a death blow. In the past, I would’ve done a thorough background check on anyone my sister was seeing, maybe delivered a personal visit to ensure they knew to treat her right. But after what she’s been through, I believe Isobel’s own instincts would be a better measure.
The truth is, I’m actually glad she’s seeing someone. She’s got a lot of life to live yet to have given up on love.
Needless to say, my niece disagrees with me and wants me to pick the guy apart. She was able to tell me Isobel met him at the dog park, he’s forty-nine, the vice principal at a high school, and his name is Steve Spence. Even his name sounds harmless.
I thought I’d calmed her down, assured her my sister knew what she was doing, and to give the guy a chance. That night Sloane sent me a snapshot of the guy getting into a mid-range sedan in my sister’s driveway and added his license plate number. She’s nothing if not thorough.
I have a feeling I haven’t heard the last of her.
“I’m sorry, I had to make a quick call,” Pippa says as she comes toward me. She avoids looking at me, when she adds, “And Marcie said I should be glad you’re looking out for me.”
“You were talking to your friend?”
“Well, I hadn’t exactly told her about my condition yet and I didn’t want her to find out from Cade, so I called her.”
“And you told her about me?”
Her lips twitch as she glances at me from under her eyebrows.
“Sort of. Your name may have come up.”
Something tells me whatever she shared about me wasn’t very complimentary, but she doesn’t elaborate and steers the conversation in another direction.
“But what are you doing here anyway?”
The smile on her face is friendly but reserved, and it hits me how much I fucking hate it. It’s the way she might smile at someone she doesn’t really know or trust. As much as I know I’ve caused that myself, it stings.
“I finally caught up with Fletch this morning.”
I almost laugh when her eyes instantly scan my body, presumably to look for any damage.
“Oh?”
She’s clearly curious what was said but doesn’t want to ask, which is good because I wasn’t planning on sharing. Besides, I’m pretty sure Nella will fill her in at some point. I don’t think there’s much they don’t share.
“We understand each other,” is all I’m giving her before moving onto the next topic. “I also wanted to give you a bit of a warning. I have some family stuff which has popped up, courtesy of my niece who is not happy with her mother’s life choices. I’m planning to give my sister, Isobel, a call and—seeing as she and Sloane are my only family—I’d like to tell her about the baby.”
“Of course,” she immediately responds. “I didn’t realize you have a sister too. Younger or older?”
“Izzy is a few years older. Her daughter, Sloane, turned twenty-one earlier this year.”
“Oh, I hope everything is all right?”
I’m about to brush her question off when I realize if I want Pippa in my life in any other capacity than co-parent for our child—if I want her to trust me enough to let me in—I should lead by example. After all, this woman is carrying my baby.
This still isn’t easy to talk about so I focus on explaining it as fast and concise as I can. Like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“Five years ago, Sloane walked into the house to find her mother severely beaten and barely breathing, and her father with part of his head blown off as the result of a self-inflicted gunshot. Isobel finally started dating someone and Sloane is freaking-out.”
Pippa gasps, slaps one hand over her mouth while spreading the other protectively over her belly, and widens her eyes, which are already brimming. Then she swings around and braces herself against the reception desk.
Fuck.
I was so preoccupied with getting the story out, I never stopped to think how it might impact her. Clearly not that well.
I bridge the distance between us and press myself to her back, my hand seeking out the swell of her stomach as I whisper an apology in her ear.
A noise has me raise my eyes and I catch Ira poking his head around the doorpost.
Shaking his head.