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Monday morning comes and I decide that I need to bite the bullet and go to the garage. There is no denying it. I’m pregnant and I’m going to need to tell Brent soon… really soon. I’ve already scheduled my first doctor’s appointment and there’s just no turning back now.
Pulling up to the garage, I sit in the parking lot for a long moment, staring at the front entrance door before I force myself out of the car. Hitching my purse over my shoulder, I open the door and step into the small front office, my eyes focused on the counter.
There is a gorgeous woman standing on the other side of the counter, heavily pregnant and holding a toddler boy in her arms.
“Can I help you?” she asks, attempting to sound cheerful, but she looks exhausted. My god, am I going to look exhausted too? My eyes widen as I stare at her belly, and she lets out a laugh. “It’s huge, I know.”
Clearing my throat, I shake my head once, then lift my gaze to meet hers. “I’m looking for Riff,” I blurt out.
“Riff?” she asks, her face turning a weird palish color. “Sorry, he’s not here. He’s at the club,” she says.
“Oh,” I exhale, taking a step back.
She lifts her arm, placing her palm flat out as if to stop me. She doesn’t speak right away, but her eyes are wide, and her lips are parted.
“You look as terrified as I felt the first time that I stepped in here. Let me call him, have him come down here.”
“No,” I say, holding my hands up. “I know where the clubhouse is, I’ll just go down there. I need to talk to him.”
“Seriously. It’s no trouble, I can get him down here.”
“No,” I practically yell. “It’s fine.”
Without another word, I turn from her, and I run out of the small building and toward Brent’s car. Starting the engine, I shift the car into reverse as quickly as I can and head straight toward the clubhouse, a light sheen of sweat breaking out against my forehead.
