The Baby Arrangement. Lisa Dyson

in the office.” Roxie narrowed her eyes. “Unless you have her cell phone number?”

      “No.”

      Roxie shrugged, not surprised that Bree hadn’t given him her number. She was adamant about never allowing herself to be distracted by romantic relationships. “I guess you’re out of luck, then. Try her at work.” She pulled a business card from her purse. “Call the main number and ask for Bree.”

      Nick didn’t seem happy with his limited choices, but Roxie couldn’t help him any more than she already had. She had a sudden idea, of which the benefits might be twofold. BeeTee was looking for a venue and it might help push Nick and Bree together. “You have a restaurant, correct?”

      “Yes,” Nick said slowly with a definite hint of suspicion. “Why?”

      “It has a full bar?”

      He nodded.

      “Great. We’re looking for a place to hold bartending classes. Would you be interested in us ‘borrowing’ your bar?” She paused. “We’d pay you, of course.”

      Nick seemed to consider the idea. “It would have to be on Mondays when the restaurant is closed.”

      “That’s perfect!” She was excited about moving forward with Bree’s idea from vacation. “Can I come by to check it out, maybe during the midafternoon lull on Saturday or Sunday? Then we can figure out the details and I’ll have a contract drawn up.”

      “Sounds great.”

      “Hey, what’s going on out here?” Pete exited the restaurant and joined the group, his flavor of the week clinging to his arm. “I wondered where you got to,” he said to Nick. Pete looked directly at Roxie and said, “Hey, Rox. How’s it goin’?” He had the nerve to punctuate his question with a wink.

      “Peachy,” she said.

      “Okay, then.” He looked at the woman on his arm who, on closer inspection, appeared to be even younger than Roxie had first thought. “Ready to go?”

      The girl bobbed her head, and Pete tipped an imaginary hat to Roxie before he and his date headed in the direction of the nearest parking garage, where he’d probably left his car.

      The three women looked at Nick when he said, “Please, are you sure you can’t get in touch with Bree for me tonight?”

      “She needs to rest,” Hannah told him.

      “But tomorrow’s Saturday. She won’t be in the office, will she?”

      Roxie chuckled. “She will be unless she’s tied down or she’s too sick. She tends to work seven days a week if no one stops her. That’s why we insisted on a working vacation on the island.”

      Nick rubbed his bearded cheek as if considering his options. “Okay. I guess I’ll try her at the office in the morning.” Nick said goodbye and went on his way.

      He sounded resigned, but Roxie didn’t honestly think that would be the end of it.

      * * *

      NICK WALKED TO his car in the parking garage several blocks away. He’d wanted to speak with Bree’s friends about her possible pregnancy, but how did you bring that up?

      Did you just come out with it? Hey, so is Bree pregnant or what? Yeah, that would have gone over well. And what if she wasn’t? He’d have sounded downright stupid. He didn’t even know how much they knew about what had happened between Bree and him.

      He got into his car, wishing he had some way to contact Bree.

      At least now, with Roxie’s proposal to use his bar for teaching, he not only had an extra source of income but he might even run into Bree once in a while.

      * * *

      NO SOONER HAD Bree exited the Uber car, entered her building and pushed the elevator button for the seventh floor, than she began receiving text messages from her girlfriends.

      Make it home okay? came from Roxie.

      Do you need anything? was Amber’s text.

      And then Hannah, Feel better. Call if you need me.

      Bree would have been annoyed at their concern if she didn’t love them so much and know they were merely worried about her.

      Privately, she was becoming a little concerned herself. She’d never fainted before. Ever. She didn’t count what had happened when she got her foot stitched. She hated needles with a passion. She shivered involuntarily.

      But this hadn’t just been a little dizziness. It had been full-out, almost-drop-to-the-floor—if not for Nick—passing out. Followed by throwing up the few morsels she’d been able to eat.

      She must have some kind of bug. There was no other explanation. Maybe something she’d picked up while on their island vacation. Although none of the others had come down with any type of illness.

      Bree sent a group message to her friends saying she was fine and that she was going to bed early. By the time she’d stripped off her dress and heels, slipped on a nightshirt, brushed her teeth and washed her face, she realized it wasn’t even eight o’clock. But her body felt like it was midnight.

      She crawled into bed, glad her stomach had finally settled down. She was positive she’d be awake before the sun came up, so she didn’t set her alarm. Even though tomorrow was Saturday, she wanted to get into the office bright and early to get some work done with few interruptions.

      The next morning, Bree awoke to the sun shining into her bedroom. She sat up, trying to remember what day it was and why she’d been sleeping during the day. Then she remembered going to bed very early last night. She must have been really tired if the sun was up before her.

      She turned her alarm clock toward her. “Eleven o’clock!” She felt her eyes nearly bug out. “This must be a joke.” She grabbed her cell phone from her nightstand and checked the time. Exactly the same. She’d slept for fifteen hours.

      “How could that be?” she said aloud as she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. She was normally lucky to get six hours a night. That was all she needed to function. She couldn’t even remember sleeping longer than seven hours while in college.

      She showered and dressed in jeans and a sweater since there would be no meetings with clients. She needed to catch up with her never-ending email and review the financial statement she’d been avoiding.

      No matter the weather, she preferred to walk to her office, stopping at the coffee shop on her way. Today was no different although, since she’d returned from vacation, the smell of coffee had gone from soothing to distressing. She ordered her usual yogurt parfait with chai tea instead of the espresso she used to order.

      She was about to walk out of the coffee shop with her combination breakfast and lunch to go when a woman about Bree’s age suddenly doubled over in what appeared to be pain.

      “Are you okay?” Bree asked her, setting her things down on a nearby table so her hands were free. Except for a man at a back table with his nose in his computer, she and the woman and the two employees were the only ones in the coffee shop.