She couldn’t help picturing a mini Gabe running around, and she loved that baby already. Of course, if Sandra was right, the Fierros wouldn’t let her go. They’d want her to move in permanently so they could enjoy their only grandchild. She couldn’t let that happen, either.
Misty wanted—no,needed—to be her own woman. She had friends and family who could help, but she’d never let anyone step in and take over. She wanted this child, desperately, and wanted to be the kind of mom Gabriella Fierro was. Someone who taught values but wasn’t so strict that a child couldn’t make mistakes. She wanted to be warm, supportive, and welcoming to the child’s friends. Hell, she even wanted to bake cookies.
“Misty?” Adam snapped a finger under her nose.
“What?” Oops. She had taken a little mental vacation. Did he ask her something? Other than to move in with him, that is.Ugh. She threw up in her mouth a little bit. “Adam, excuse me, but I have to hit the ladies’ room before work.”
He straightened his spine, looking affronted. “Go ahead. Just think about my offer. I know it might sound like a bad idea since I’m your boss, but I assure you, it would be fine.”
She jumped up and almost lost her balance.Oh, great. That would have been enough for another interrogation.And off she hurried, as fast as her unreliable legs could carry her.
In the ladies’ room, her coworker Terri was applying some lipstick. “Hi, Misty. How are—”
When Terri got a better look at her, she stopped talking and just stared. Just as well, because Misty’s stomach was roiling. She ran into the stall and tossed her breakfast.
“Oh dear,” Terri said. “You don’t look so good. Are you sure you should be here?”
When she was through retching, Misty wiped her mouth with some toilet paper. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Sorry you had to hear that.”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I was barfing in here every morning during my whole first trimester.”
Misty’s eyes widened, and she tried to school her expression right away. She moved slowly to the sink and splashed some water into her mouth, swishing and spitting it out.
“Wait a minute. Are you—”
Shit. Terri’s putting two and two together.
“Misty! How exciting. Is it with that gorgeous fireman we’ve seen you with?”
She held onto the sink and swayed. Her balance seemed to desert her too.
“Oh no. It’s more than that, isn’t it? What’s wrong, hon? Here. Sit down. I’ll go get your purse, and you can call somebody.”
Misty grabbed her arm. “No. Don’t go anywhere. I’m fine. I just need a minute.”
“Okaaay.” Terri continued to stare at her with concern. “Maybe Adam can call a cab or limo or something.”
“Limo?”
“He can afford it, and you look like you need some pampering.”
Misty couldn’t put up with that response all day long. She glanced into the mirror to see what everyone else had been reacting to.
Ugh. Her hair was sticking out in several places from when she’d pulled off Julie’s knit hat. She had raccoon eyes from yesterday’s mascara meltdown, and the middle button of Julie’s borrowed blouse had popped off. She would have loved to call a limo to come and return her to her town house so she could call her stylist and start the day over.
Alas, reality bit the big one. No stylist. No clothes but the bare essentials at the Fierros’ town house. Not even certain essentials! All the Fierros had were men’s tighty-whities, a few BFD sweat suits, and Gabriella’s petite clothes. She had to go shopping soon, but she didn’t feel like it.What size should I buy? I’m so screwed.
Terri was rubbing circles on her back, maternally. “How can I help?”
Misty smiled at her friend and coworker. “I don’t know. I guess I need to clean up before going out there. You don’t happen to have an extra blouse or cardigan lying around, do you?”
Terri smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. It may not be your style or size or go with what you’re wearing, but…” She shrugged.
But beggars can’t be choosers, Misty finished for her in her mind.
Terri hurried off, leaving Misty feeling truly about as low as she could go. “Hold that thought,” she muttered to herself. If she’d learned anything in her twenty-three years, it was that things could always get worse—especially if all a person focused on was negative.
She had to talk to Gabe. This time without an audience. She was pretty sure she knew how he felt, but where to go from here was the question. Even though he didn’t like the circumstances, he was part of it.
