Plan B (Best Laid Plans #2) - Jana Aston Page 0,59

perfect job. Except wait, she said she got the job and turned it down, didn't she?

"No, he interrupted my interview and proposed. I'm engaged!" she shouts into the phone.

"Me too!" I gotta admit, this is working out very nicely for me. Whew.

"You're engaged? To who?"

"I'm married!" I squeal into the phone ’cause I might as well go for broke at this point.

"Wait, what?"

"Enough about me. We're talking about your news. Tell me everything! He just walked into your job interview and proposed marriage? I cannot. I have the swoons." I clutch my chest even though she can't see me because really, this is just the swooniest thing I've ever heard and I am here for this story. "Did he have a ring? Did he get down on one knee?"

"He proposed with a deformed paperclip actually." She sighs, dreamily.

"Stop it."

"Wait, wait. Don't distract me. Let's back up here. You're married?"

"Married."

There's a long pause then while she waits for me to fill in the details. I don't.

"When were you going to tell me this?"

"It just happened, okay? Right in the midst of you being ghosted by Jennings, so the timing was terrible. I didn't want to rub it in your face."

"Marriages don't just happen, Daisy. Two weeks ago you weren't even dating anyone!"

"I sorta was." Not really, but we'd met and he'd knocked me up by then, so there's that.

"Who? Is it someone I know?"

"I'll tell you everything. But you first. Tell me about Jennings and your paperclip ring!"

"Daisy," she drawls my name out. "Are you pregnant?"

"Pffft," I sputter into the phone. Way to get right to the point. "That's so rude, Violet. Are you pregnant?"

"No!"

"Yes." I smooth Tubbs-McGee's fur between my fingers and wait for the backlash.

"Oh, my God, Daisy. What the hell is going on right now? Am I having some kind of out-of-body experience? Is this a dream? I didn't think the time change was affecting me that much but maybe I'm hallucinating."

"Don't be dramatic. You're not hallucinating. I'm married and pregnant. Surprise!" I add the surprise with some jazz fingers even though she can't see me.

"Daisy, what have you done?"

"What do you mean what have I done? You just told me you're engaged and I'm not questioning your life choices. Sheesh."

"Explain yourself. I'm not giving up one more detail on my engagement until you tell me everything."

"Wow. Such a ball-buster, Vi." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "His name is Kyle. We met a few months ago on a weekend I was between tours. And... things happened."

"You got pregnant from a one-night stand?"

"You're sounding awfully judgmental, Violet."

"I'm sorry. I just—" She cuts herself off for a moment before continuing. "You don't have to do this, is all I'm saying. If you need help, I'm here for you."

"I know you are, and I love you for it. But I'm okay. I'm... happy. I think this is the right decision for me and the baby."

"Do you love him?"

My heart races at her words. That's the big question, isn't it?

"I do," I reply slowly. "But I'm not sure I should. It's all so new. It feels reckless to love him this quickly, but yes, I'm crazy about him."

"Okay. That's all that really matters then, isn't it? But you know I'm always here for you if you need it. Ever. Also it turns out that Jennings has a mews house, so you could come over anytime and stay as long as you liked!"

"What in the hell is a mews house?"

Violet exhales, as if my lack of interest in British housing is so unfathomable to her. "They're stables that were built behind homes before cars were invented, with living quarters above. They're absolutely the most charming things ever and Jennings has one!" She nearly squeals with delight.

"Oh, my God. You're suggesting my Plan B should be to live in a stable with my baby? That's really offensive, Violet."

"Don't be ridiculous. There's an entire apartment above the horse garage. I mean stables. I mean garage. It's called a garage now because no one in London uses a horse and carriage as a means of transportation anymore. Which is a shame."

"A real pity," I agree, sarcastically.

"It needs to be remodeled though. The entire house does—but don't be afraid to visit! It's not like, dilapidated or anything. It's just very very old."

"Like England."

"I know, right?" she agrees, but it's in a breathy dreamy voice because old buildings really get her off. "But anyway, there's a full two-bedroom apartment and you'll be welcome anytime. For as