I side-eye him. “No.”
“I never dreamed I’d see you again. Life is crazy, hmm?” He laughs, and Widow Carnes glances over at us. Her real name is Iris Carnes, but since the day she moved in and put her sights on Darden, we’ve referred to her as Widow Carnes. (She does have three dead husbands already.)In her late sixties, she has bobbed dark hair and beady eyes—which are currently staring a hole through me.
“Hmm. You mentioned you’re at a crossroads. Is that about your ex?” he asks.
“No. I’m way past him. Something else.”
“Ah, I see. Personal troubles. Jobless.”
“I got a job. I’m an art procurer.” Darden arranged it yesterday when he emailed everyone in his contacts who bought art. His words to me wereGet clients. Throw my name around. Tell them you’ve purchased all my art for the past few years.
“You like art?” I ask.
“I do.” His gaze lingers on my face. “A lot.”
The elevator stops to let residents off, leaving us alone. He faces me as I do the same. His eyes brush over my locket.
“What?” I whisper. “It’s a locket. I wore it at the club.”
Green eyes blaze with heat as they rise to meet mine. “I know. You wouldn’t take it off. I fucked you while it bounced on your tits.”
Red colors my face.
I recall us in that bed.
The fire between us.
The delicious harmony.
I turn back to face the door.
“Sorry I brought it up,” he whispers. “It was an awful night, hmm?”
“Terrible.”
“Are you walking tomorrow? Same time?” he asks.
I pause, my head racing as the elevator stops on my floor.
He grabs my hand. “Francesca?”
I pull my hand from his grip, but before I walk away, I murmur, “Bring a coat.”
Dr.Lovell, my gynecologist, sits across from me and Brogan in her office. Tall and lean, she has short white hair, wire glasses, and a kind face.
Cece wanted to be here today, but she’s in LA. She came to my first appointment last week to confirm the pregnancy. During that visit, Dr.Lovell did blood work, examined me, and used a fetal Doppler to find the heartbeat.
It sounded like horses racing—and made everything terrifyingly real.
Because she knew my pregnancy was unplanned, Dr.Lovell went over different options in a factual, nonjudgmental way. She told me to take some time and think.
Brogan and Cece kept quiet in the apartment after that. There were no more songs, jokes, or discussions of baby clothes.
I went for walks, rode the subway, went to MoMA. I even borrowed Cece’s Range Rover and drove out to the shore. All of it was me turning everything over in my head.
What to do, what to do ...
Choose door one or door two.