Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Tapping her pencil on the calendar, she slammed the book closed. There was nothing to worry about. Women skipped their cycle all the time for so many different reasons. There were way too many to count. This was one of those times. There was no way she was pregnant.
She had to stop and as she did, she stared straight ahead.
Pregnant.
That was a word she’d been trying not to think about. She and Carson hadn’t exactly been safe when it came to having sex. He’d not worn a single condom.
There went the worrying again. Shit. Crap.
She had no idea what she was going to do.
Running fingers through her hair, she tried not to think, but it was next to impossible. With the shop, it was a slow day, which tended to happen not long after a sale. The new stock had already arrived, and she’d uploaded them to the website and watched them pretty much fly out the door. It had been that fast.
In the past two months, her life had taken a dramatic turn. First, Carson had found someone to help her, and Miley was a dream. She was in her forties, passionate about sewing, and had even started up a blog on the website, documenting her own pieces from fabrics supplied by the shop. They had a massive surge of emails with pictures as well as details of the pattern, which had been a raving success.
Right now, Miley was currently talking to their only customer, a cup of coffee in her hand and a huge smile on her face. She was a lovely woman, married with three children, and Willow didn’t have a single clue where Carson found her.
Either way, she was more than happy the woman was found, because she made working at the shop a lot easier. They could have one of them serving customers while the other cut online orders. Within two months, they had become a well-oiled machine. She still didn’t know where Carson had found her.
Miley returned to the counter with the customer and rang up her order. “Thank you so much for coming. Please let me know if my idea works.”
“Will do, Miley, thank you.”
Willow smiled and said goodbye to the customer. “What idea works?”
“She doesn’t like the idea of having to slip-stitch the armhole closed, and I think I know a way that might help her.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Miley asked, reaching out and putting the back of her hand against her head.
“I’m fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”
“I beg to differ. You look a little … sick.”
“I’m fine.” She looked down at the calendar and even though she didn’t want to be thinking about that little niggle in the back of her mind, she couldn’t let it go. “Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Do you know of any reason a woman, might, you know, skip a, er, you know … cycle?” She felt her cheeks heating. Her grandmother was so much better at this than her. Lauren always knew what she was trying to say and often would cut her off and explain everything. She missed her grandmother.
“Well, the obvious one is pregnancy, and then of course there’s stress and there can be other factors as well. Why?” Miley asked.
“No reason.”
Willow knew there was a line that Miley wasn’t allowed to cross. She didn’t know what Carson had told Miley, but either way she didn’t know this woman well enough to explain that she might be pregnant with Carson Dexter’s child.
“Do you think you’re pregnant?” Miley asked.
“I er, no, I don’t, it’s fine. Forget I ever said anything.”
“Willow, I know we haven’t had a lot of time to be friends or anything, but I am here for you, whenever you need me. I’m here, and I know it’s not a lot, but I can help.”
She shook her head. “Please, don’t worry about it. It’s perfectly fine.” Willow looked at the time and saw it was close to five in the afternoon. “I think we can close up shop for tonight.”
Moving away from the counter, Willow went to the door, closed and locked it, then stepped back up to the counter.
“I’m here if you need to talk, Willow,” Miley said. “I’m a reliable person.”
“You work for Carson,” Willow said. She didn’t want to tell Miley the truth, that part of her was happy to be pregnant, if that was what she was, and another part feared what it meant, if she was.
This relationship had been a roller-coaster ride so far, at least to her. Carson was a man, no, he was a force to be reckoned with. She had seen the way people looked when he entered a room—a mixture of fear, admiration, and anger. He commanded respect. The men who worked for him were loyal to him and only to him.