That Wild Night: Waking Up Pregnant / The Best Mistake of Her Life. Aimee CarsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
with morning sickness.
Once taken care of, she showered, and then slipped into a pair of yoga pants and a thin, long sleeve T-shirt before heading downstairs. Gail had been gone when she woke up yesterday and only stopped in for a few minutes around late afternoon before disappearing through most of the evening, which had given Darcy the bulk of the day to familiarize herself with the house. She’d met the two housekeepers, Nancy and Viv, who had been incredibly warm and welcoming, right up to the minute she’d asked if she might help them out with anything. At which point those warm smiles had turned stern and she’d been pointed toward the couch and handed a glass of juice. Apparently, Jeff had spoken with them.
The break had been nice, but so much free time left her at loose ends, and she was looking forward to sitting down with Gail and finding out what her temporary position would entail and how quickly she could get her hands into something. Anything.
Stepping into the kitchen she found Gail standing at the farmhouse-style table a china cup in one hand, a tablet in the other. Stacks of folders spread out in front of her.
She looked up at Darcy’s entrance and smiled her son’s genuine smile. “Wonderful, you’re up! Sleep okay?”
“I did, thank you. How about yourself?”
Gail nodded, quickly, then flapped her hand at the air as if to brush aside the morning pleasantries. “I’d like us to be friends, Darcy. Real friends.”
“That would be nice,” she answered.
“It would. So in the interest of friendship, I suggest we make a pact to be honest with each other. Truthful. Up-front. So we always know where we stand.”
Nervous tension began to creep through her, because honesty had pretty much been the plan from the start. But maybe Gail wasn’t as okay with having her here as she’d sounded when Jeff was around. “All right.”
“Great! So I’ll start. Now honestly, do you want to dive right into your made-up, fake job this morning or—” she clutched her hands in front of her, like she was making a plea “—go shopping for baby clothes.”
* * *
Six hours later, Darcy was on the phone with the caterer, confirming Tuesday’s menu modification when Gail walked into the small office Darcy had made of her sitting room. Setting three binders on the edge of the small desk, she dropped into the chair on the opposite side. When Darcy wrapped up the call, Gail scanned the desk.
“For a fake job, we’ve actually scrounged up quite a bit to keep you busy.”
Darcy let out a short laugh. There’d been a candid discussion between them earlier about the motivation behind this manufactured position. Gail had asked Darcy to put a pin in her frustration toward Jeff and consider the opportunity before her. If Darcy was serious about continuing to work—and she was—this was an opportunity to expand her skill set and open up avenues in the employment market that wouldn’t have otherwise been available.
It was an offer Darcy realized she would be crazy not to take. And within the hour she’d been on the job with Gail only huffing the smallest amount over the decision not to go baby clothes shopping.
Darcy reached for the top binder, only to have her fingers swatted away.
“Part-time, fake job. You agreed to take it easy for a few weeks, so this one will have to wait. For now, Jeff’s got a friend of his—a doctor—stopping over in about an hour to check on you. Which leaves you some time for a phone call if you were planning to make one.”
* * *
Jeff stared down at the phone in his hand, not sure what shocked him most. That his mother—his supposed number one fan and most staunch supporter—had completely, unequivocally thrown him under the bus in favor of his pregnant non-girlfriend. Or that Darcy had thanked him for what he’d done.
Definitely the latter.
And she’d sounded genuine. Excited even. Enough so the piece of her mind she’d given him about scheduling a doctor’s appointment without consulting her first hardly stung at all. And in truth, he’d meant to call her about it, but then had ended up speaking to his mother and passing the message along, which had probably sounded more like a dictate, than the on condition she didn’t object, he’d assumed would be implied.
She was going to stay with his mom.
She was going to take it easy with the work thing.
And for the first time since he’d found out she was pregnant, Jeff breathed an almost easy breath.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“IF YOU DON’T give me that file,” Darcy warned, leaning over her small desk toward the pilfering grandmother-in-the-making/woman-of-steel who happened to be Jeff’s mother, “I’m—I’m—I’m not going baby clothes shopping with you this weekend.”
Gail looked down at the manila folder she’d swiped from Darcy’s hold and then looked back. “You said fifteen more minutes. That was over an hour ago.”
She had. But after two weeks of taking it easy, Darcy’s energy was back up. She’d regained a few pounds. And she’d found a satisfaction and meaning in the work she was doing she’d never had before. So on days like today, when the hormones ran rampant and her mood was a bit off, the work was her best distraction. And she didn’t want to give it up. Besides, there was a benefit coming up to raise funds for a series of summer programs for at-risk youth. She wasn’t ready to call it a day. Which meant she’d have to play hardball with Gail. “That little boutique we drove by Sunday…with the Frog Prince–themed window… I know you know the one. I know you want to go.”
Gail got a sort of fevered look in her eyes. Baby clothes were this Superwoman’s Kryptonite, and while Darcy mostly didn’t like to exploit the weakness…she knew Gail would respect her for it in the end.
The file flopped back onto her desk.
“Fine. You win. But I was hoping to talk you into joining me for dinner with the girls tonight.”
The invitation wasn’t totally unexpected. Gail had offered to include her in her plans more than a handful of times over the past few weeks, but Darcy had yet to take her up on it. And when she made her excuse tonight, Gail didn’t push but left with her usual, friendly “next time, then.”
By the time Darcy found a good stopping place and turned off her desk lamp, the house was empty, the sky beyond the window glass already dark. Picking at a dinner her stomach wasn’t interested in, she finished her book on pregnancy and motherhood. She watched five minutes worth of drivel on TV before turning it off in an impatient huff and setting out to walk the halls of the house, again.
When she reached the second floor, she turned toward her rooms but stopped instead at the first door on the left. Jeff’s room. Normally she kept walking but tonight, she was at a loose end. As always, the door was open. And as always she experienced a tug of curiosity about the space within, and what it might tell her about the man who’d called it his.
Scanning the room, her eyes snared on the built-in shelves behind a desk. The rows of trophies and medals: baseball, tennis, swimming, football, track. The evidence of Jeff’s achievements. It made her smile to think what he must have been like as a kid.
Gail had told her he’d been into mischief almost as much as he’d been out of it, but never in a way that was hurtful or destructive. She’d called him a rule bender. A perpetual charmer.
Traits apparently carried over into adulthood.
And if ever there was a man who made a bit of trouble look like fun, it was Jeff.
Pushing back from the doorframe she returned to her room. But her ping-ponging thoughts wouldn’t still. Would she have a little boy or a girl? Was Jeff hoping for one over the other? What would labor feel like? Would Jeff be there? Would he stay cool? Hold her hand? Tell