My Ex's Baby (Crescent Cove 8)

“Sure, maybe you could come in for an interview?”

That wasn’t so reasonable, but what the hell? Sure, she might not have any retail experience, but I knew and trusted her. I did need the help. Besides, the cards wouldn’t lie.

I hoped.

“Absolutely. Let’s hammer out details later.”

“Sounds good. Thanks again.”

“Bye!” Ryan’s cheery wave was the last thing I saw before the connection ended.

“Are you hiring someone for the shop?”

I shifted on my stool and smiled at the woman Vee had called Bess. She had kind eyes, lined with lots of grooves from laughter. A life well lived. “Thinking about it. You look familiar, but I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m Kinleigh Scott.” I held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Bess Wainwright. Pleasure is all mine. I’m moving into the third floor loft apartment above Brewed Awakenings that’s just finishing up renovations. I have a big old house right in town, but at my age, I don’t need all that space.”

“The apartment with the Art Deco touches,” Vee filled in as she walked over to us. “Not sure if you saw the spread they just did in the paper, but it’s going to be stunning. I love how they’re making sure every apartment and workspace in that building is unique. Guess Gavin Forrester has an eye to go with his massive vault of money.”

“Oh, yes, the place is so perfect for me. I’ve always loved Art Deco.”

All I knew about Gavin Forrester was that he was a big shot property developer and landlord in town, but I had other concerns right now.

Bess kept talking and I kept on smiling, but I lost the entire thread of the conversation.

Dear goddess, had August and I christened her new home?

From how she was describing it, why, yes, we had. If our luck had been different, we might’ve even made a baby there.

“Excuse me,” I choked out before fleeing into the storeroom to drink half a pitcher of iced water and fan my cheeks.

How was I supposed to face her? I usually had a pretty good poker face—at least when August’s faux latex allergy wasn’t on the menu—but I’d been taken by surprise.

I yanked out my phone from the pocket of my skirt and sent off a text to August.

We desecrated Bess Wainwright’s newly finished apartment!

Yes, even including the exclamation point. It was an exclamation point kind of day.

Only to get a text from Ivy a moment later.

We did? How did we do that? And who is Bess Wainwright?

Oh, goddess, wrong Beck sibling. Must’ve been my brain was so programmed to text Ivy that I’d pulled up the wrong text window by mistake. Now I had another mess to fix while I’d only wanted to vent about the last one.

Not that said sex with August was a mess. It ranked right up there as one of the best nights of my life. It had led us to the place we were in right now, which I had no complaints about.

Even if I was occasionally—often—freaked out about how my li

fe was changing.

Bess is the sweetest lady. She’s here right now with Vee. Hey, what do you recommend for something sexy for Vee’s date with her husband?

Classic misdirection. Would it work? Tune in at two to find out.

Bess who? I have no clue who that is. I’m still stuck on us desecrating her apartment. How did we do that?

So the answer was no. It was not working. Not even close.