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“I’m not expecting you to stop loving your son’s father.”
God, give me strength.
“This is making me uncomfortable.”
Much to my annoyance, he places the roses on the counter. “Just as friends? I’m not asking for anything romantic.”
Losing my patience, I snap, “What I’d like is for you to respect my wishes. Please leave the store.”
“Mommy,” Vincent calls. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, baby,” I tell him sweetly before leveling the man with a glare. “Leave before I call the cops.”
“You don’t have to be a fucking bitch,” Barry snaps. He grabs the flowers and storms out of the store.
Was all of that really necessary?
Letting out another sigh, I return to work, but after a few minutes, I feel bad for how I handled Barry.
You said no, and he didn’t listen. End of story.
When I’m done placing all the new books on the shelves, I walk back to the counter. My gaze skims over the piece of paper with Rosalie’s number, and in the spur of the moment, I dig my phone out of my bag to send her a text.
Hi. It’s Everleigh. Sorry, I’m only messaging now. Would you like to meet at the playground this afternoon? At four?
Setting my phone down on the counter, I decide to check the financials. It’s something I’ve become obsessed with doing.
The house I bought in Pasadena was cheaper than my parents’ home. The extra money I made from the sale was used to open the bookstore.
It takes me an hour to work through all the figures, but in the end, I’m left with a smile on my face.
Financially we’re good, and I have nothing to worry about.
My phone vibrates, and I check the device for Rosalie’s reply.
Yay!!!!!! I’ll see you at four.
A smile curves my lips, and I call out. “Baby, pack up your toys so we can go to the playground.”
Vincent lets out a happy shriek and bounces up and down as he hurries to tidy his corner.
Grabbing my handbag, I tuck my phone into it and hold my hand out to Vincent. His face is beaming with a smile as we walk to the door, and while I lock up, he says, “Faster, Mommy.”
Reaching the car, I quickly place him in his car seat.
My son’s smile wipes away the crap feelings left over from Barry’s unwanted attention, and soon I forget about the man.
I drive us to the park, and when I bring the car to a stop, Vincent calls out, “Yippee!”
“You’d swear I never bring you here.” I pretend to be grumpy, but I don’t fool my son.
“Hurry, I see Jordan,” he orders like the little boss he is.
When I open the backdoor and unfasten the safety belt, Vincent shoots out of the car like a missile.
Chuckling, I walk to where Rosalie is sitting on a bench. She’s rocking the stroller, and when she spots me, a wide smile spreads over her face.
“You have no idea how happy I was when I got your text.”
