Page 91 of The Bitter Heir and the Beauty

It takes the better part of the day, which is no picnic with a baby—though I scored major points with the ladies at the car dealership and they sped things along as I made the purchase, aka surprise number one for my number one woman.

I schedule the vehicle’s delivery for later today and then Leonie and I go to a jewelry store. While I browse, she makes a face. Nope. It’stheface. The one before she’s going to let one rip.

Not going to lie. I have a bit of a panicked new dad moment. Thankfully, there’s a coffee shop and bakery across the street. We dash over there. I buy a muffin so I can use their facilities as a paying customer and quickly learn how to operate a changing table in a public space.

To say I have no interest in eating the muffin is an understatement. I also just lost a gallon of liquid from sweating so much.

No sooner do we go back to the jewelry store does Honey call me.

This time, my eyes widen. To Leonie, I say, “We’ve been caught red-handed.”

She laughs like this day out with Dad is hilarious.

But I refuse to leave without an engagement ring.

“Where are you? Why is there classical music in the background?” Honey asks.

“Oh, um, I’m showing Leonie the finer things in life.” It’s not exactly a lie.

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. We’ll be home by dinnertime.”

“Are you trying to get me off the phone?” she asks.

“No, of course not.”

“Well, I called because there’s been a Chick Jagger sighting.” She tells me how Mrs. Halfpenny said she saw him preening in her birdbath. “There was a feather that Molly positively identified as belonging to him.”

I scrub my hand down my face because my sweet little ticking time bomb will probably soon need a nap, and I think this story could’ve waited until I got home.

Which reminds me of my final task.

I scramble to get off the phone because the day is getting away from me. Of course, Honey is suspicious, but soon, she’ll know everything.

Sensing this particular jewelry store isn’t where I’m supposed to be, we try another one, but I don’t see a ring that has Honey’s name written all over it.

“Last one, promise,” I tell Leonie because I’m afraid she’s going to start to fuss soon.

The salesperson asks if I need help. “Actually, yes. I’m looking for an—” But then I see a yellow stone surrounded by white diamonds set in a silver band. Pointing, I say, “That one. That’s the one.”

Leonie claps her hands together.

“Definitely that one,” I repeat.

“Ah, the yellow diamond. It’s extremely rare.” I’d love to hear the salesperson’s passionate spiel about the diamond color scale, but all I need to know is that our little family has sunny days ahead and they start now.

Leonie gobs onto my nose with her gummy little mouth, and I laugh. Or maybe those days already did. But it’s time to get out of here after I pay, of course. I wasn’t actually going to use the baby to make a getaway.

Once we’re back on the road, Leonie conks out and I make a call, setting up an appointment with a realtor for her last booking of the day.

When we get back to Hogwash, I drop Leonie off with Mara for the evening. Then I meet Honey at the restaurant where she closes up. I help wipe the tables and peer out the window. But the car delivery isn’t here yet.

After taking out the trash, I check the back parking lot. It still hasn’t arrived.

She closes the blinds on the door and I take one last look.

“You’re acting funny.” She shifts uncomfortably.

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