Cart Before The Horse (2 page)

Tracy followed her into the stall. “Oh, God! No wonder you’re sick.”

“This has just been the annoying part. It only started a few days ago. It was reading that stupid stick this morning.” She wiped at her mouth with a handful of paper towels Tracy handed her. “The doctor confirmation wasn’t any nicer.”

“So what did they say?”

“The doctor? He said I was pregnant.”

“What else, damn it.”

“I’m eight weeks pregnant.” She shook her head. “I’m as regular as the sun coming up each morning. Why did I not notice I skipped a period?”

“You were under a lot of stress.”

Holly wet another paper towel and wiped her mouth again. “I’m used to that kind of stress.”

“I’m not. It was our biggest client ever. My guess is you paid off your car with that check.”

Holly nodded. It had been worth the time and effort they’d put into winning the account. But still, how had she not noticed?

As Tracy walked her back to her office, Holly could feel the eyes of those in the office settle on her. She sat down on the couch as Tracy retrieved the tea she had brought in earlier and handed it to her.

“I guess this is the first time my tea won’t cure you.”

“I think I’m beyond cure.”

“This isn’t all bad, Hol.” Tracy sat down next to her. “I don’t have kids, so I’ll never have grandkids, so this
will be fun for me.”

“I’m glad you’re excited. I’m just not sure I can share in that with you. This is not something I’d ever planned for. And, in

any brief moment that I might have thought about it, I had i
ncluded a husband.”

“It’s all going to work out you know. It just is.”

“I’m not made to be a mother.”

“No one is.
I think it’s something that comes naturally.”

Holly rolled her eyes.
“I’m not ready for this.”

“You have choices.”

Holly gritted her teeth. There were no choices as far as she was concerned. She would face motherhood head-on. But the heroic thought made her nauseated again. She forced the sickness down as she tried to cope with the fact there was no backing out.

Holly stepped off the elevator and made her way to her condo. She unlocked the door and set her bag in the hallway. She walked to her bedroom, saw her bed remained rumpled from last night, and pulled back her comforter. She couldn’t remember a day when she hadn’t made the bed, but today seemed to be an exception.

She thought to herself as she pulled the sheets over the down pillows, she’d had a lot of exceptions in the past few weeks.

It would be easy to blame Tracy. Truth was, she was old and stuffy, and she was still too young to be old and stuffy. Tracy had always held strong to the thought that Holly needed a free spirit, a little bit of a wild side. The experiment had gone horribly wrong.

Besides, having a child was like having a lifelong relatio
nship commitment, and she wasn’t very good at relationship

commitments. She’d had exactly two of them. The last one had ended disastrously with Greg reiterating what Tracy had a
lways said—she was dull.

Be that as it may, she was successful and she was happy.

She didn’t need nights at the bar or vacations to places where people showed off more skin than clothes, and she ce
rtainly

didn’t need a man.

But a baby needed a father.

Holly sat down on the bed she’d just made, realizing she’d only be climbing into it again in the next few hours. She put her head in her hands and began to sob.

Who would Holly have been had she not had her father there? Her mother was as uptight as she was. She supposed she got that honestly enough. But she’d never wanted to be like her mother, pretending she was something she wasn’t. It was her father who had kept her grounded and feeling a little less like the oddity she was.

Obviously she’d needed the moment of freedom to open herself up. After all, she’d somehow let Tracy talk her into the party. She’d had at least four mojitos, a few shots, and a glass of champagne. And she remembered the giddy feel of kissing the stranger in the corner of the bar—and she’d enjoyed every m
oment of it.

They’d gone back to his hotel. That much she knew. His eyes and hair were dark, and he was tall.

Holly wiped at her tears. Well, hell, how would she find him if he was in a hotel? That didn’t settle well. A one-night stand with a man who didn’t even live in town. Everything about the situation didn’t figure into her life at all.

She started a hot shower and scrubbed her face. What could she remember of the tall, dark stranger? She needed to think of something. What would she tell the baby about him when he or she asked?
Oh I don’t know, dear, but he was handsome when I was drunk.

She’d have to come to grips with the fact that she’d have to ask Tara about the man. Sooner or later the world was going to know she was knocked up. Her humiliation was about to be as evident as her swollen stomach. She might as well start asking questions. Though if she couldn’t remember the details, how

was anyone else going to remember them, especially
two months later?

To make up for being late the day before, Holly arrived at the office by six thirty the next morning. By the time Tracy walked through the door, she had finished the designs she’d neglected and started a new series that was specifically baby-inspired.

Tracy picked up the design and looked it over. “Hmm, what’s on your mind?”

“Tall, dark, handsome, and completely mysterious.”

Tracy walked back and shut the door to Holly’s office. “Did you figure out who he was?”

“Nope,” she said, still adding a neutral green color to the overly cute turtle she’d just drawn.

“Tara said you weren’t with any of the guys she brought to the party,” Tracy whispered, as if they were in a crowded room and not alone within the brick walls of Holly’s office.

“Great. Did you tell her I was knocked up and needed to know?”

“Hey, snap out of the mood. Do you want—”

“No, I don’t want any tea,” she snipped and put down her marker. “Thanks.” She let out a breath. “Thanks for asking.”

“Do you want to know what I found out?” Tracy perched herself on Holly’s desk and crossed her bangle-clad arms over her chest.

“You know who I went home with?”

“What I know is that bar we were at, Maguire’s, is under new ownership. What I know is old man Maguire sold his well-established piece of Denver to his great-nephew. What I

know is he was there the night we had your party.”

“Tara knew this much?”

Tracy nodded. “I said you wanted to see the guy from your party again, that you’d really hit it off.” Holly shook her head in disgust, and Tracy lifted her palms in the air. “Well… it’s true.

But I said you weren’t sure which of her friends he was. She said it was the owner of the bar.”

A
ripple of hope finally took over the nauseous feeling

she’d had all morning. It was a welcome change. “It looks like we’re going to lunch today. Let’s see if my memory of tall, dark, and handsome is correct.

By the time Tracy made her way back into Holly’s office to head out to lunch, Holly had thrown up three times. She wasn’t sure if it was morning sickness or nerves.

They climbed into Tracy’s vintage Volkswagen Beetle and headed out of the parking garage.

Tracy patted Holly’s knee. “You’ll be fine. It’s not like the guy is a total stranger.”

“You’re not helping me.”

“Loosen up.”

“I did.” Holly squirmed in her seat. “I loosened up so much, I’m sitting here waiting to find out who saw it all.”

“Loosen up again and open your mind. You’re so negative.”

Holly shook her head. Pending motherhood seemed to have her even more uptight than usual. Her worst nightmares were already coming true. She was becoming her mother.

She’d really like a glass of wine. She’d have to find som
ething new to calm her nerves.

The Denver lunch crowd wouldn’t make it into the bar u
ntil noon. They had arrived promptly at eleven to scope out the place and search out the owner of the restaurant.

The perky twenty-something hostess, with her dark hair

pulled into a perfect ponytail atop her head, perfectly round

breasts pushed against the tight white cotton of her T-shirt, and the tiny sparkle of a nose ring, seated them in the corner by the window. The waitress who came to the table to get their drink order was a perfect match to the hostess.

“I’ll have water,” Holly said, looking away.

“Hot tea, please.”

“I’ll bring you a box to choose from,” she said and r
etreated.

Holly looked around to find three more girls dressed the

same. It certainly didn’t fit her image. “Well, we know what his type is, don’t we?”

“Look for a bright side.”

“To hell with your bright side. By the way, I’m not naming the baby Tracy, just thought I’d throw that out there.”

“Hag,” Tracy whispered as the waitress returned with the box of tea bags.

They ordered their lunches, sat, and waited for a man, any man, to walk through the door. The only men to arrive were all in business suits, fifty, and not the man Holly had gone home with.

“Is there anything else I can get you?” the perky waitress asked as she set the bill on the table after their meal.

“There’s a new owner here, right?” Tracy smiled up at the woman.

“Oh, yes!” Her eyes opened wide, and the airy sound in her voice had Holly wrapping her arms around her stomach. “He’s very popular. Very nice to look at.”

“I’ll bet. He wouldn’t happen to be here, would he?”

Holly’s heart took a rapid rise in beats per minute as she scoped out the room.

“No, he’ll be here after one.”

“Wonderful, thank you.” Tracy laid her credit card on the bill, and the perky girl took off with it. Then she fixed Holly with an uncharacteristically no-nonsense stare. “You have
the day off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Go home, pull yourself together. Put on some
casual
clothing and get your ass down here at one.” She signed the slip when the girl returned it to the table, gathered her woven bag, and headed for the door.

“I’m not coming back.” Holly followed Tracy to her car.

“Did you see the way she talked about him? He’s obviously slept with every woman he’s hired. Besides, I’m not his taste. Look around. I don’t fit the bill.”

“One o’clock. You’re fired if you don’t talk to him,” she said as she started the car and waited for Holly to climb in.

She opted for jeans. Luckily, they still fit, and she wo
ndered how long it would be before her fabulous wardrobe had to be replaced with new clothes that allowed for expansion in the midsection.

A white cotton button-down shirt, nice and crisp, finished her casual look. She’d pulled back her hair to match the perfec
tly knotted tails worn by the perky-titted bar staff. She upped the color on her makeup, and her Chanel sling-back pumps in black gave her a feeling of sophistication. The armor of a woman going to battle against girls who appeared half her age.

She was back at Maguire’s at one o’clock on the dot, asking to see the owner.

“He’s not here yet. Would you like to wait at a table?” the perky girl who’d sat her hours earlier asked.

“I’ll just wait at the bar.”

She sipped water and waited. Fifteen minutes. Thirty minutes. Forty-five minutes. It was ridiculous. She’d downed four glasses of ice water, and now she had to pee.

She stomped from the barstool and shoved open the door to the ladies’ room. She’d come. She’d waited. She was leaving.

Holly washed her hands, pulled open the door to the
restroom, and barreled into the tiny hallway that lead toward the kitchen, falling smack against the man she’d been
waiting to see.

He steadied her as she managed her footing. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.” She wanted to turn back toward the bathroom and throw up. “Sorry.”

“Holly?”

The air rushed out of her lungs. “You remember me?”

“Yes!” His dark eyes were fixed on hers, and his hands lingered on her arms. “I’ve been thinking about you for months.

How have you been?”

“Oh, I’ve been better.”

He nodded and kept looking at her as though she were su
pposed to sport another head, but then his lips parted into a sexy smile that made her knees weaker than they were. “It’s so good to see you. Let me buy you lunch.”