Page 75 of Staying for You

“That’s not a great lead in.”

“I know, I know. But it’s a necessary one. Trust me.”

“Just spit it out,” I demand and set my coffee down on the floor beside my chair. I have a feeling whatever she’s about to tell me, I’m not going to like and it would be a terrible thing to waste any coffee by spilling it.

“This is unfortunately two-fold. First, I found out Scott’s been staying at your house.”

“What?!” I shout. “How is that possible? I changed the locks!”

“Well, he’s somehow swindled his way inside. I assume he called a locksmith after he found out you were gone and fed them some story about being locked out of your house and that he lived there. I mean, it probably wasn’t hard since his name was on the home at one point.”

“Shit.”

“Right. He’s really a jerk, huh?”

“Yes.” I scowl and feel my temperature rise as I think about him being such a dumbass. “What else?”

“Well, um, this part is a bit worse.”

“Just come out with it, Gretchen!”

“He’s not there alone.”

“What?” I breathe out.

“Yeah. He um, okay, my husband Chris…”

“I know your husband’s name, Gretchen,” I snap.

“Sorry! Sorry! It’s just… this isn’t easy, okay! Chris said he went past your place a few nights ago and all the lights were on. So he thought maybe you’d come home early. He was going to ask me about it but he walked in the door to chaos because the kids had come down with a horrible case of the stomach flu about ten minutes before.”

“Are they okay now?”

“Yeah, but it was a rough twenty-four hours.”

“Yikes.”

“Pretty much. Also, he SO totally didn’t deserve you. I mean, I just tell you that your husband…”

“EX!”

“Right, ex-husband is squatting in your house and you have the forethought to ask if my kids are okay. You’re awesomesauce. Anyway, he remembered last night and asked. I flipped out, we threw the kids in the van and drove over there. I pretty much busted through the door and demanded answers. The woman, she pretended like she had no idea what was going on but hello, there’s you everywhere in that house. Your office and pictures on the walls. She totally knew. What a bitch, right?”

I’m breathing heavy, anger ramping up. Who the hell does Scott think he is? What an entitled little prick! “Who is she?”

She makes a sound like she’s sucking in a breath. “That’s the part that gets even worse.”

I laugh because really, what else is there to do? “How is that possible?”

“Well, she’s a stripper, which, whatever, a girl’s gotta have a job, right? No judgment from me for that but… she’s in delicate condition.”

I keep laughing despite the seriousness (and extreme annoyance) of this conversation. “Delicate condition? What are we? In Regency days?”

“First of all, remind me to tell you about the amazing new Regency I read last week. It was ah-mazing. The hero? Swoon. For real. Second of all, I was trying to be kind. She’s pregnant.”

“I gathered that.”

“And not just a little bit. She’s like six or seven months pregnant.”

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