Page 11 of Cold as (N)ice

Come on, buddy. We’ll eat in the living room, in front of the couch.

4

IRENE

“Noooo,”Irene begged softly before putting her face in her hands, unable to ignore this any longer. That stupid mistake two months ago had been the stuff of nightmares – and she had fallen for all the classic lines.

Eric had shown up at her apartment with roses and a check for child support, which he was six months behind on, claiming that he wanted to make things right with her. He’d come in, apologized to her, asked how she was doing and looking back – she had been such a gullible fool.

Her ex-husband was the same troll, and she fell for all the same stuff, believing naively that he wanted to work things out. That he was truly sorry and loved them, wanting to make a family together.

Nope.

The jerk wanted a booty call.

She’d fallen for the oldest trick in the book – and now was pregnant. Eric had literally slapped her on the butt, jerked on his pants, and left without so much as an ‘I love you’ or anything. He’d used her – and she felt like some wadded-up tissue tossed to the side.

Oh, and that child support check?

Worthless – just like him.

He made her feel like she was nothing, completely trash to him – which is why she needed the job because this wasneverhappening again. He’d signed away his visitation to Stephen two months ago, claiming it was too much work to try to talk to him. In fact, it should have sent off alarms in her head when he showed up after Stephen had gone to sleep… but noooo. The optimistic fool inside of her idiotically thought, ‘Well, maybe he’s changed this time?’.

“I’m never going to learn,” she whispered, staring at the positive pregnancy test in horror. She could barely afford to live on her own, much less raise a baby again. Her apartment would not house a crib as well. Stephen already used a day bed for his own bed – that doubled as her couch for the apartment.

There would be diapers, clothing, doctors’ visits, not to mention her clothing because she had sold all her maternity clothes at a yard sale years ago.

And heard a knock at the bathroom door, knowing it was Stephen. Wiping her face quickly, she took a deep breath and threw away the evidence, before opening the door. Sure enough, her son was standing there, wiggling, holding his jeans in obvious distress.

Move!

Moving,she gestured back, chuckling as she darted out of the bathroom, giving him some privacy. He was seven and, in a few years, would be more in-tune with the differences between them and to throw a baby in the mix?

“Dang it…” she groaned aloud, hating herself right now and the decisions she’d made – and heard her phone go off. Wincing, she looked at the screen, already keenly aware the only text messages she got anymore were from her new boss, Barrett.

I like the purple towels. Great choice - thanks!

Rolling her eyes, she sighed. Maybe money was the bane of her existence. If she were well-off, maybe she wouldn’t be under all this stress. The money that Barrett was paying her was nice, and certainly made things much easier, but there was this sucking sensation in the back of her mind already ticking up the totals of what a baby would do to the teensy nest egg she’d built in the last three weeks that she worked for him.

I’m glad you liked them.

Candle smells awesome, too.

“Oh my gosh,” she muttered, not sure how to take him. “If he tells me I picked amazing toilet paper, I’m gonna have to say something. What kind of weird dude has his maid go pick out stuff for his house – and on top of it all – why would he live like that to start with?” And hesitated as she caught Stephen’s furrowed gaze looking at her.

He was trying to read her lips.

Sorry. I’m just griping,she gestured quickly.

Are you okay?

Yup. Annoying adult stuff. Are you ready for school?

Do I have to go?

Yes.

The kids make fun of me.

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