and put my hand on it. "Honey, do you feel okay?"
"Yes."
Cee Cee is working at her desk. She convinced her employer to allow her to work remotely. She's a graphic designer, and it allows her to be at home during the day with Abby. My job doesn't have the option of me working from home, so it was a saving grace her employer agreed. Worry fills Cee Cee's face. "What's wrong?"
"I think she might have a fever."
"I'll get the thermometer."
Abby's immune system is still compromised. Any sickness could be life-threatening or derail her ability to get treatment.
Cee Cee brings the thermometer over, and there's a knock on the door. She hands me the thermometer and opens the door.
The driver says, "Pickup for Ms. Barello."
"She'll be right out. Please go wait in the car."
"Sure." He leaves, and Cee Cee shuts the door.
I press the button and aim it at Abby's forehead. It beeps. "Ninety-eight point seven."
"I'm sure she's okay. We've been up one point before, and she wasn't sick," Cee Cee reminds me.
"But what—"
"Jasmine, you need to go. I will take care of her. If anything changes, I'll call you."
"I'm fine, Mommy."
I smile bravely. "If you feel sick, tell Auntie Cee Cee."
Abby rolls her eyes. "I know, Mommy."
I hate how my little girl knows more about being sick than any child should. It's not right she has to try and comfort me and convince me she's okay.
I kiss her, give her a hug, and tickle her stomach.
She giggles and shrieks, "Mommy!"
"Go," Cee Cee demands and points to the door.
This is an ordinary workday. If I were going to my old job and her temperature was ninety-eight point seven, I would rely on Cee Cee to watch out for her and call on breaks for updates.
Nothing about this is typical.
It's my new normal.
I reluctantly leave. The driver is waiting outside the car. It's black, shiny, and looks like a sore thumb in my neighborhood of dilapidated houses. "Ma'am." He nods.
"Hi."
He opens the door, and I slide into the leather luxury. I take my phone out of my purse and snap a photo. I send it to Cee Cee. Going to try and see the positives. Better than the subway or bus.
She sends three emojis with heart eyes back.
Colton's HR department calls, and the woman on the phone asks me questions and sends me a link to their portal. I sign in and finish all the required paperwork as the car pulls up to La Perla.
I spend the next few hours working with sales associates to pick out lingerie, a dress, and shoes. I send Cee Cee photos of me in everything to get her opinion, between checking on Abby. I've not paid attention to fashion since before I got pregnant. All of this is out of my comfort zone and wheelhouse.
But I can't deny the luxurious material makes me feel sexy, which I haven't felt in years. Maybe it's better I feel sexy if I have to do whatever it is Colton is going to demand of me.
With Cee Cee's approval, I decide on the red satin, halter dress with thin straps.
Cee Cee: It's perfect for the holidays.
Me: Too bad it's wasted on Colton.
Cee Cee: Is it?
My stomach flutters when Colton's chiseled face pops into my mind.
Me: Yep.
I cringe inside. I've come to hate the holidays. Abby asked when we were getting a tree this year, and I made up a lie and told her there weren't a lot of trees available this year, so I wasn't sure if we would get one or not.
All Christmas does is remind me how much I'm failing at everything.
Bree from Bergdorf's hands me a pair of six-inch stilettos. They have crystals on the heels. "These are perfect!"
"Am I going to be able to walk in those?"
She circles her hand from behind her back and reveals a matching pair but with four-inch ones. "These better?"
A bit of relief surges through me. I'm still worried but not as much. I used to wear shoes like this. Well, not as expensive, but when I was younger, I lived in high heels. "Yes, thank you." I take them and slide them on.
Bree has me stand on the platform. A seamstress comes out and pins the bottom. Bree assures me, "We'll have this hemmed and delivered to Mr. Ash's home before five."
"Wow. Okay. Thank you."
"What about jewelry?"
I try to push the thought about how the cost of everything could be another payment toward Abby's treatment.
It's not coming out of your