“I know. I’m sorry,” I apologized. “I’ll clean this up.”
Lola gave me a repulsed once-over and then shook her head and left the kitchen. I picked up the pieces of the broken dish and threw them away, then went upstairs to my room to take a shower. After that, I stared at the divorce papers, which were on my desk, trying to figure out how I’d gotten there.
Only a year before, I was happy with Dion. We would lie in bed or on the sofa watching movies and munching popcorn and M&M’s. He’d cook special meals for me. He’d make me forget about my long days and nights at the mansion with foot rubs and stories from his childhood. I thought we’d be stronger than this—that we could be spending a few hours apart a day for our marriage. But that’s the thing about love, Ivy. Love is no good for you, and it can blind you.
For the most part I did what needed to be done for Lola. But I wasn’t feeling any better doing it. I felt sicker, and the smell of the cleaner I used to wipe the counters suddenly made me want to vomit. The food I had to set on the table for Lola and her guests always smelled spoiled or rotten.
Something was wrong with me, you see . . . and then it hit me what it could possibly be, and I drove to the nearest pharmacy, bought a pregnancy test, and took it home.
And just like that, after peeing on a measly stick, I found out I was pregnant. It was Dion’s baby of course. I didn’t see this as a bad thing, though. I figured this would be my way back to him. I was pregnant with his child. He’d forget about his new girl toy, cancel the divorce, and be with me again to start our family. He’d forgive me for not being as present for him as I should have been.
I thought that would work, Ivy, I really did. But it didn’t. The first question Dion asked when I called and told him the news was, “Are you quitting your job at the mansion?”
To which I replied, “Why would I quit? You haven’t found a job yet and with a baby, we’ll need the money.”
“You can find another job,” Dion snapped. “I’m sick of you working at that damn place.”
“But, Dion, she pays me good. We need the money.”
Dion sighed, clearly fed up. “You know what, G, talk to me when you can put me before that fucking job. If you’re so good at it, you can get another one with flexible hours. You know how many people would be glad to have a woman who worked for Lola Maxwell working for them? I’m sure many of them will let you negotiate your hours.” He groaned, sounding irritated. “That woman abuses your freedom, and you just let her. What the hell are you gonna do when you get bigger with the baby and can’t do shit around her house? You think she’s going to keep you? No. She’s going to toss your ass aside and find someone who is more committed. Someone who doesn’t want a damn baby.”
And you know what? Dion was probably right. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. What would Lola have done if I told her I wanted to start a family? It was never stated in my contract that I couldn’t start a family while working for her. There was even a clause for maternity leave and everything, but would Lola live up to that? Would she be fair about it? There was no way she would just shove me aside like trash, not after all I knew and how hard I worked for her.
Dion didn’t want a baby—at least not with me. That much was clear from the way he hung up on me. But I wanted it, so I decided to keep it, despite what he had to say. Lola wouldn’t release me or shove me aside. She had been pregnant herself, and even though it hadn’t lasted long, she’d understand.
She had to . . . right?
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Wrong.
For someone who’d started up her own charity for pregnant women and single mothers, Lola didn’t understand my side of this one bit.
I told Lola I was pregnant the same week I found out and mentioned that if I was slower around the house, that was why. I saw she didn’t want to flat-out get rid of me, so she hired some girl named Viola to step in and perform household manager duties whenever I felt too sick to.
That didn’t last long, though. Viola sucked at her job, and seeing as I didn’t want to be replaced, I sucked up my pregnancy woes and was back on my A game.