I’d never been fancy with the varieties we planted. My predecessor and mentor hadn’t been either. He’d taught me that sometimes the most amazing displays were nothing more than abundant color. I preferred hardy plants that would survive the regular touches from guests and the sniffs from pets and kids.
My anger at Brody kept me company while I lost myself in the dirt and seeds and quiet whirl of the greenhouse. Clara tried to call a few times but I pushed her to voicemail and sent her a text that I’d call later. I couldn’t talk to her, not when she was so close to Brody. Bastard.
Hours later, well past the noon hour and close to dinner, my stomach growled so loudly the sound echoed in the greenhouse.
An enormous appetite came crashing down, and for the first time today, I was ravenous. The same had happened yesterday and the day before. My body didn’t want a thing before four, then afterward, I’d eat and eat and eat until bedtime.
Quickly tidying up my workspace, I returned to my desk for my coat and keys. I jotted down a message on a sticky note for the staff to water the seed trays I’d planted while I was in Arizona for the holiday, though the note was unnecessary.
The winter grounds crew was the full-time crew. They were all at the hotel, completing the short to-do list I’d assigned this morning. If there was a snow flurry, they’d take care of the shoveling and plowing. They’d ice the sidewalks. And they’d water, inside the hotel and here too.
Today wasn’t the first time I’d been in a mood that had resulted in new plants to tend.
With the greenhouse locked, I rushed along the sidewalk to The Gallaway, hoping the chef had something warm. The clam chowder would do. Or pasta. Or chowder and pasta. Maybe some bread too.
Could I eat clam chowder? I typed in a quick search on my phone. Soon, I’d have to find a doctor and learn the specifics. Clara had cut out certain things when she’d been pregnant with August, but since we hadn’t lived together, I couldn’t remember the exact items.
Today, all I cared about was that clam chowder was safe and so were carbs.
In the kitchen, the chef greeted me with a wide smile, as though he’d expected to see me. After only days, my odd eating schedule was becoming predictable. He whipped up a bowl of chowder and one of his fancy grilled cheese sandwiches. I devoured it all in the employee break room along with a cookie and a Coke from the vending machine.
With a full belly and a subdued temper, I pulled out my phone and called my sister.
“Hey,” Clara answered. “You okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Brody is—”
“Don’t. Please,” I begged. “I don’t want to talk about Brody. Not right now.”
“Okay. Do you still want to come here tomorrow?”
“Yes.” I wasn’t letting Brody steal my Christmas. “I’ll be there.”
Maybe if I was lucky, he’d find somewhere else to spend the holidays. Yes, we had a lot to discuss and figure out, but it could wait. We had months, if Brody even wanted to be involved.
Would he want to be in our child’s life? Or would he be like Devan and disappear? My heart sank. How was I going to explain to a kid that his father didn’t want him? That her dad had abandoned her in favor of private jets and cold mansions?
Maybe Brody would surprise me. Maybe he’d stick. How were we going to raise a child from different states? How would we handle holidays? Would I only get to have my baby every other special occasion?
“There’s so much to figure out,” I whispered.
“You will.”
“Yeah,” I murmured. “We’ll have lots to talk about tomorrow.”
“Talking would be good.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Brody.”
“I understand.” And the truth in her voice eased some of the guilt. We’d figure this out, like we had every hurdle life had put in our path. Together.
“I’ll text you when I’m at the airport tomorrow.”
“Love you,” she said.
I smiled. “I love you too.”
The next shift was due to start soon and one of the night-shift clerks came in to leave his dinner in the employee fridge. I waved, talked to him for a moment, then headed out to the lobby.
“Aria.” Andy was at the receptionist counter and his entire face brightened when I walked through the door.
I forced a smile. “Hey.”
“Feeling better?”
“I am, thanks.” Surprisingly, much better. Now that I’d told Clara, I wasn’t alone in this. Secrets had never been my thing and sharing the news that I was going to have a baby had lightened the load.
That was how it worked with Clara. We shared burdens.
Pregnancies. Brody.
If he abandoned our baby, at least I wouldn’t have to convince Clara to quit and move to Oregon. There was no way she’d stay with him if he turned out to be a deadbeat dad.
“It’s cold out.” Andy nodded toward the french doors that opened to the deck on the ocean side of the hotel. In the summer, those doors were rarely closed. “I was just taking off for the day. Would you like a ride home?”
He was just so . . . clueless. And nice. Refusing him was not easy. When was he going to realize this was never going to happen?
I opened my mouth, my brain scrambling for a gentle rejection, when a flash of dark caught my eye over Andy’s shoulder.
A man in a crisp black suit strode into the hotel, his green gaze locked on my face.
Brody.
Chapter Seven
Brody
“What are you doing here?” Aria asked through a clenched jaw.
The guy beside her stepped closer, hovering beside her elbow. He lifted his hand, ready to touch her, but at my glare, he must have thought better of it and let his arm drop to his side.
I dismissed him and focused on the woman.
Aria’s face was pale. The circles under her eyes looked more like bruises. And she’d lost weight—weight she hadn’t had to lose.
“You look awful.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You came all the way to Oregon to tell me I look awful.”
The man stepped closer to Aria, positioning himself between us.
The look I sent him was the one I’d used countless times in the conference room. One I’d learned from Grandmother. People withered under the look. This guy did.
The only person who seemed immune was Aria.
Her scowl deepened, then vanished when she turned to him. “Andy, would you excuse me?”
“Is everything okay?” He touched her elbow.
I tensed.
Aria tensed. It was slight but visible. She gave Andy a tight smile. “All good. Thank you.”
He reluctantly nodded and dropped his hand once more, but did he leave? Andy just stood there, staring at her like she was the sun and the moon and the stars.
Christ. I didn’t have time to deal with a boyfriend. Was he her boyfriend? Because I wasn’t okay with that. I wasn’t okay with another man touching her. Kissing her. Definitely not sleeping with her.
My head, which had been spinning since her phone call earlier, was close to exploding. It was only by sheer force of will that I hadn’t had a complete and total mental breakdown—not that I’d ever had a breakdown.