red.
That done, I drive to Sweet Darlings Inc.’s office and park my Lexus in the company garage. Before getting out of the car, I text Erin to let her know I’m here, so she can wrap up whatever task she’s been working on.
I take my time walking into the building. It’s tall and impressive, lots of marble, stone and chrome in a slick contemporary design. The lobby has a ceiling that has to be at least three stories high. Smart architecture to make the air inside much cooler.
I sign in with security at a huge desk. A young guard in a starched and perfectly fitted black uniform gives me a visitor’s pass.
“First time in the building?” he asks, looking me up and down.
“Yeah. I’m just going to be here for a few minutes. Meeting a client.” Here it comes.
“Cool. Hey, I get off in half an hour. You got a little time after your visit? Wanna grab a coffee? Our café over there is way better than Starbucks.”
I give him a pat smile. “Thanks, but I have a”—I fumble for the word—“a…” What is Edgar? Not quite a fiancé, but a boyfriend is a kind of…insufficient. “I’m in a relationship,” I say finally, giving him my patented I’m so flattered you asked, but really, it won’t be happening because…it’s me, not you smile.
“Oh, I get it.” He nods, clearly not buying it. “Boyfriend?”
“Something like that.”
The guard smiles, revealing blindingly white teeth and a dimple that probably kills at the nightclubs. He’s well built, too, like a track athlete, with biceps that pop out like baseballs under his short sleeves. “Well, you know…he’s not really invited,” he says, laying on the charm. “Just you.”
I lean over, indicating with my body language that he should lean in as well. He does. “I’m really flattered, but see, there’s this other thing…”
“Yeah?”
“I’m kind of pregnant.”
The guard straightens up immediately, his eyes widening. “Oh! Oh, uh, I see. Well, uh, in that case…”
“Yeah.” Not wanting him to feel too bad, I finger-wave him goodbye. Can’t blame a guy for trying. I walk toward the elevator, checking the time. Score one for my punctuality!
“Um… Josephine Martinez?”
I stop and turn to see a blonde in her twenties. She’s got her hand up about shoulder-high, like a kid who can’t decide if she should raise it and answer a question or not. “Yes?”
“Oh, good.” She blinks large blue eyes. “I’m Erin. Erin Clare?”
“Hi. Nice to finally meet you.” I shake her hand. “You didn’t have to come down here to meet me. I could’ve gone up.”
Her cheeks flush. “I thought this would be easier.”
“Whatever you’re comfortable with.” I do what my clients prefer, with only two exceptions: letting them come to my home, and wearing ugly clothes.
I scan her quickly to see what I’m working with. She’s medium height. Her features are even and fine, pretty, but not stunning like the most celeb clients I have. On the other hand, her small, delicate build is excellent, with a narrow waist and hips flaring out to create a surprisingly sexy silhouette.
But her outfit is so…businesslike and boring. A plain ivory sleeveless top and knee-length black pencil skirt. Black Mary Janes. No accessories except for a pair of solitaire earrings. Given the cheapness of her clothes—I’d bet my favorite Jimmy Choo sandals that she got them off clearance racks at an outlet mall—they’re probably cubic zirconia or something similar.
Erin fidgets, shifting her weight. “Do I look okay?” she asks finally, her voice small.
Oh, honey… I smile sympathetically at her sweet uncertainty. Erin is the type of client who requires a delicate touch. “There’s nothing wrong with the way you look. The only question is, are you happy with it?”
“Uh…” She looks down at herself, then at my dress, then back at herself. “I guess?”
So she doesn’t know for sure. No wonder David gave me such detailed instructions. “Let’s walk to my car. We have a lot of ground to cover.”
She gulps audibly. “Okay.”
I drop the visitor’s pass off in the bin next to the security desk, where the guard gives me a perfunctory nod, then lead Erin out into the garage. She lowers her voice like she’s confessing a grave crime.
“I’ve never hired somebody like you, ever. I didn’t even know people like you existed.”
“It’s okay.” I smile. “So. What do you wear when you go out with friends?”
“I don’t really go out much.”
“But you have friends in town.” It’s unimaginable that a young woman like Erin doesn’t have friends