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“So, you didn’t just go to the clinic for a UTI then?”
“I didn’t know,” I murmured, crouching and grabbing the bottle of vitamins before shoving them into my shoulder bag. I zipped it for good measure, but the damage was done. The news was no longer a secret. “I only found out a few hours ago.”
She nibbled her lip, looking like she wanted to ask a question, but attempting to curtail her naturally curious nature.
“Out with it,” I demanded.
“Is the father that insanely hot biker you spent the night with?”
I paused and then slowly nodded.
“Are you going to tell him?”
I shook my head. “Can we please talk about something else?”
“Sure. I got a text this morning from Angie. She’s still raving about the cake you made.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” I said. “I’ve gotten a few phone calls this morning from unknown numbers. I’m guessing they’re about catering jobs. It looks like we’re in business, Jazz.”
Chapter8
“This is ironic—don’tyou think?” Jazz said from the floor of my apartment.
“Ironic, how?” I asked, doodling a cake sketch on a pad of paper.
“We’re catering a baby shower, and you’ve got a literal bun in your oven.”
I looked at her. “Veto.”
“Veto, what?”
“I hate that saying.A bun in the oven. I object profusely.”
“But you’re a baker. It’s like that saying was made for you.”
I ignored her and went back to drawing.
We’d decided to close early. Between the health inspection and the news about my pregnancy, we figured it was better to spend the afternoon upstairs in my apartment returning phone calls of potential new clients.
“We have to get a delivery van,” she said after a long stretch of silence.
“With what money?” I asked. “This bakery is bleeding me dry as it is. Look at the car I drive. You think I can afford a van?”
“I have some money saved,” she admitted. “Not a lot, but some. I could find us a good deal—with Horace’s help, I’m sure. And then…”
“Then?”
“We could be catering partners?” Jazz asked.
“You sure you want to invest in this?” I asked softly. “I’m hanging on by the skin of my teeth. Expenses and roadblocks just keep popping up. And now…”
“You’re going to have a baby. I know. I just think…”
“What?” I asked.
“We’re both kind of drowning. My life is going nowhere, and I want it to change. I’m desperate for it to change.”
“Be careful what you wish for.”
