Page 60 of The Guest Cottage

“For me, actually.” Marlow had given it plenty of thought and decided on a course of action. “I’m ready to move forward with my plans of starting a small business. I had been researching possible locations just outside Bramble, within a drivable distance. I’ll set you up with a laptop, show you what I’m interested in, and you can continue the search until I find the perfect place.”

“I . . .” Breathless, Pixie nodded quickly in agreement. “Okay, sure. I can do that.”

“Then we’ll need to find the right merchandiser, someone who supplies quality material that we can personalize in some way to make it unique. Clothing, home goods, possibly jewelry. We can sort that out when the time comes. I’m not entirely sure yet what I want.”

Her blue eyes still huge, Pixie nodded.

“None of this will be easy.”

“I don’t mind,” she rushed to say. “I swear, I’ll work around the clock. I’ll do anything, I’ll—”

“You will stop demeaning yourself. That’s rule number one. You’re here now, with me.” That likely had more significance than Pixie realized, because Marlow had always been a champion of the underdog, and she especially loved causes that helped women in need gain a better foothold in the world. “No employee of mine will grovel. I want you strong, Pixie, even proud. Not apologetic.”

Tears filled Pixie’s eyes, and she gulped. “Sorry.” She dashed at her eyes with annoyance. “I swear I won’t keep doing that.”

Softening, Marlow covered one of her hands with her own. “I understand, Pixie. I really do. You’ve been afraid, with nowhere to turn.”

She whispered, “Afraid mostly for Andy. I love him more than I knew was possible. He’s so tiny, so dependent on me. He’s all I have, and I’m all he has, but I’ve made such a mess of things, most of the time I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Heart breaking, Marlow cut her off. “You’re an attentive and loving mother, and now you’re also my assistant and under my care. Let me stress that I want you well. Your health is important so that you can be the best mother possible.”

“I will be, I swear it.”

“Good.” Brisk now, Marlow removed her hand and got back to expectations. “We’ll see the doctor recommended by the clinic, and then we’ll follow a plan to get you back to perfect health. Using the doctor’s guidelines, we’ll introduce a schedule of work that doesn’t interfere with caring for Andy. There will be no dating, no wasting money on frivolous things.”

“I wouldn’t, I swear!”

“No fast food. No cute new bathing suits.”

Pixie stiffened, but not because she was insulted by the strict warnings. “I couldn’t wear a bathing suit, anyway. The pregnancy and the C-section . . .” She settled her hands over her stomach. “I’m a mess. Pretty sure my body will never be the same.”

“Does that bother you?”

Showing a little spunk, Pixie snorted. “When I would never let another man touch me anyway? Not to insult Dylan—”

“Oh, please. Insult away. Just because he’s gone doesn’t mean he wasn’t a selfish, obnoxious jerk.”

That epithet earned a fleeting smile from Pixie. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about him.”

“Well, I hope he was better to you than he was to me, but it hardly matters now. He’s gone, and neither of us will miss him.” On the off chance that Pixie might correct her, Marlow immediately continued. “I understand that having a baby affects everybody differently, but I’m sure you’ll regain your figure. You’re young, and the baby will keep you active.”

“Believe me, my body is the least of my worries.” She plucked at her T-shirt. “With my hips wider, my stomach not so flat, none of my pre-pregnancy clothes fit me anymore. My car was already full, so I left a lot of stuff behind.”

“I did the same thing!” Amazing that they had something so basic in common. “I wanted an all-new look, though. Less business, more casual.”

Pixie grinned crookedly. “You always look good. Like someone in a magazine.”

Funny how the compliment warmed her face. “Thank you.”

“I was just going for comfort. I couldn’t stand trying to get into jeans. They hurt. And with nursing, my boobs are bigger. I was spilling out of my smaller shirts.” Her eyes flared. “I probably shouldn’t have said that?”

“Pfft.” Marlow waved off her concern. She was enjoying the camaraderie. “If two women can’t talk about boobs, who can?”

Lips lifting into a smile, Pixie said, “I honestly didn’t expect much when I came here. I was just hopeful you’d help for a day or two, and maybe give me some good advice. Instead, you’re being so nice.” She bit her lip. “I know I don’t have the right to ask for anything.”

Marlow went still. Pixie looked so uncertain that she braced herself. Had she misread Pixie’s sincerity? Would the big requests begin now? If she wanted money, how much? Coolly, Marlow met her gaze. “Is there something you want?”

“For you to please believe me.” She leaned forward, her expression earnest. “I didn’t know Dylan was married. I had no reason to think he was. He asked me out, so I just assumed he was single and never questioned it. I accept the blame for being naive, for screwing up my life and getting myself into this mess, but I swear I would never have gotten involved with a married guy.”

---