I’m getting so used to the idea, and, God, how do you keep secrets so well?”
“It’s an art,” she said drily. “So you don’t have to worry about me. I won’t tell anyone until you’re ready.”
Lacey dropped back in her seat, still looking worried. “I guess I’m ready, once we tell Ashley. But I am starting to stress out big time about running this place and having a baby.”
“You’re going to be fine,” Jocelyn assured her. “You’ll do it the same way every working mother does. With lists and help and sleep-deprivation and wine. Wine! You had wine the other night.”
“I fake-drank.” She grinned. “My plants are pretty looped, though.”
Jocelyn laughed. “You are a sneak!”
But Lacey leaned in again, reaching a hand to Jocelyn. “My offer is legit and now you know just how much I need someone like you. Maybe not immediately, but after this baby is born, we’ll be close to opening and I want this place to run so smoothly. But I also want to be a good mom.” She touched her belly, rubbing. “So, think about it, okay? Come and run my spa for me. You’ll have plenty of time to close up your business.”
She rolled her eyes. “My business is closing for me.”
“It would be so wonderful, Joss—”
The door popped open with a resounding bang followed by an equally loud, “I’m pissed!”
Tessa bounded inside, her boots hitting the floorboards so hard the whole trailer shook.
“What’s wrong?” Jocelyn and Lacey asked in perfect unison.
Tessa waved her cell phone. “The son of a bitch did it again!” She marched across the small space and slammed the phone between them, nearly collapsing the card table. “His girlfriend is pregnant again! And he had the audacity to text me. Their first kid isn’t even a year old, they still haven’t gotten married, and now he has another one on the way.”
Jocelyn and Lacey were stone silent, both blinking like they’d been caught in headlights, but Tessa was too worked up to notice. She grabbed a folding chair and practically threw it next to the table, plopping down with a soft curse.
“How can he text me like I’m supposed to be happy for him? Who does that, anyway—texts their ex-wife when their new girlfriend is pregnant? What the hell does he think I’m made of?”
They still couldn’t quite talk. Lacey swallowed hard and Jocelyn dug for the right thing to say, coming up with nothing.
Tessa looked from one to the other, then down at the plans. “What are you two discussing, anyway?”
“M-my…” Lacey stuttered, obviously unable to come up with anything.
“Job offer,” Jocelyn supplied. “She wants me to work here.”
Tessa gasped and grinned and gave a solid clap. “A capital idea!”
And just like that, they managed to steer the conversation away from babies and onto business.
Chapter Sixteen
Will climbed out of his truck at the Mimosa Community Credit Union a few minutes after the bank opened, the last of the stops he had to make that morning. Just as he reached for the handle of the charcoal-tinted glass door, it popped open, pushed by someone inside.
“’Scuse me,” he murmured, stepping to the side and nearly getting run over by Charity Grambling, who had her head down, her nose in the open end of a manila envelope.
With a soft gasp, she looked up, jerking the envelope away. Then she shot him a vile look, her features arranged in a way that screamed anger. Brows drawn, lips down, nothing but fury carved into the deep lines on her face.
Man, she’d been poorly named.
“Everything okay, Charity?”
Her dark eyes tapered as the wind lifted her frizzy caramel-colored hair, revealing a band of gray roots underneath. “No, Will. Some things are just not okay.”
He hesitated, stepping farther to the side but still holding the door for her. “Sorry to hear that,” he said, expecting her to fire a retort and stomp away.
But she just sucked in a breath so deep it made her narrow nostrils quiver.
Oh, boy. Charity was in a mood to gossip. “Hope your day gets better,” he said quickly, trying to zip by her into the air-conditioned lobby of the credit union.
But she stood stone still, five feet two inches of granite and grit. “Where’s Jocelyn?”
The question threw him enough to make him stop. Charity may be playing the good cop this week, but he’d known this woman too long to trust her. “Is someone looking for her?” he asked, purposely not answering.
“Yes, for cryin’ out loud. I am. Where is she?”
He just