“I know. And I’ll definitely think about it,” I tell her. “There’s just so much going on in my head right now that I don’t know up from down.”
She nods. “I get it. You just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll get you an interview.”
“Thanks, Gabs. I really appreciate it.”
“Anything for you, Berlin. You know that.”
I wipe my eyes with my napkin and blow out a long breath. I feel better for having told Berlin about the baby. Hauling around a secret like that on your own can be suffocating. But Gabby sharing this burden with me takes some of the weight off my shoulders. I feel a bit better than I have since I found out I was pregnant.
Gabby tightens her grip on my hand again and grins mischievously. “I just want to know what you were thinking,” she says. “I mean, don’t you know that having sex in the back seat of a car pretty much guarantees you’re going to get pregnant?”
I bury my face in my hands and groan, then lift my head and laugh as I shake my head. Being as devoted to the trashy tabloids as she is, I should have known Gabby would have seen my picture in the Ledger. But I hadn’t received a mocking phone call or text from her, so it hadn’t even entered my mind – I’ve had a lot more to think about lately.
“You’ve been sitting on that all day, haven’t you?” I grin.
“All day? I’ve been sitting on that for a couple of weeks now. I figured it’d be a line best delivered in person,” she cackles. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”
“Tell you what, I had sex in a car?”
“No, that you are becoming such a wanton sexual deviant,” she teases. “Frankly, I’m shocked.”
I laugh. “Yeah well, I’m only taking your advice and enjoying myself a bit.”
“And I’m so proud of you, babe.”
We laugh together for a minute before our conversation shifts to more mundane matters. All the while though, her words continue to echo through my head. And as a mother-to-be, I will need a job for as long as I can manage it until I have to go out on maternity leave. I am going to need to sock away some cash to make it through once the baby is born. Hell, I’m going to need a decent pile of money even before the baby is born to get ready for his or her arrival.
And although it terrifies me to even contemplate the idea, the best opportunity I have to put together a decent nest egg is probably going to be working for Sawyer. It’s a path forward fraught with plenty of thorns and pitfalls – I have no idea what he even thinks about having a child.
But at this point, what Sawyer thinks doesn’t matter. I’m going to have and keep this child. It’s not even a question in my mind. He can either be in our child’s life or not. That’s up to him, and I have no plans to pressure him one way or the other. It won’t be easy – in fact, it’ll be downright brutal – but I can raise a child on my own if needs be.
I’m not going to lie though – having some help would be nice.
Chapter Twenty-Four Sawyer
“I wasn’t aware you knew where I lived.”
“You’re not the only one who’s resourceful.”
I grin. “Clearly not.”
I step aside and let Berlin into my place, my eyes unconsciously sliding up and down her body as she passes me. She’s wearing a long, flowing skirt that’s dark blue with white polka dots and hugs her hips enticingly. She’s also wearing a white blouse with a dark blue sweater and has her hair tied back into a ponytail with a white tie. I’ve never seen her dressed down in casual attire before, and she’s got this whole 1950’s retro vibe going on. I have to say; it’s appealing as hell.
I lead her into the living room and offer her a seat on the couch. She looks around my condo like it’s the most luxurious place she’s ever seen.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, I was just hoping we could talk.”
“Yeah, absolutely. Can I offer you a glass of wine?”
“Ummm… do you have some hot tea actually?”
“On the wagon?”
A strange expression crosses her face, and she won’t meet my eyes. “Something like that,” she responds. “It’s just kind of cold out there.”
“Fair enough. Let me just go grab some.”
“Thank you.”
I head into the kitchen and try to decipher Berlin’s behavior. The fact that she put in the effort to find out where I live is one thing. But I can see the tension in her body and that inexplicable glint in her eye. I have no idea of what’s happening, but I’m glad she’s here, and we’ll figure out whatever is going on with her. Suffice it to say; I’m curious as hell.
After getting a tray set up with some hot tea, cream, and sugar, I carry it all into the living room and set it down on the coffee table.
“Well aren’t you just Little Suzie Homemaker,” she grins at me.
“My mother taught me that every civilized household has tea service at the ready.”
“I think I’d like your mom.”
“I’m sure she’d have liked you.”
She lets that hang in the air between us for a long moment and looks distinctly uncomfortable. I suppose things are too new with us to even be joking about meeting parents. And given that the only surviving parent either of us have is suffering from Alzheimer’s, I’m sure that adds another layer of baggage for her.
I pour out the tea and leave her to fix it how she wants it, then walk over to the faux fireplace that is mounted in the wall below the large flat-screen television. The fireplace is seven feet long and two feet high, and when I turn on the
