Page 33 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
We were friends, but she wasnotmy bestie. I crossed my arms and fought the impulse to roll my eyes.
“I thought you might want to take a break. I brought you a coffee.” She pointed to the Dunkin iced coffee set on the counter behind her then furrowed her brow. “You can drink coffee still, right?”
“You mean while pregnant?” I snorted. “Yes, Whitney, I can have a little caffeine.” Regardless of why she was here, I was grateful for the coffee. I could use the little pick-me-up it would provide, and she remembered what I liked: an iced caramel macchiato.
“Oh, good. So, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
I grabbed my coffee, took a sip, and sighed in delight. “Since I last saw you, what, like three or four days ago? Nothing much.”Besides not hearing from Lincoln in the last two of those days. My heart twisted at the thought of him.
“Nothing? That doesn’t sound like you. You always have something going on.” Whitney said sweetly, her fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against the countertop.
I laughed. “I’m fine. Nothing new to report here."
“Oh, come on, Harper.” Whitney stomped her foot, and her eyes flashed frustration. “I thought we were friends.”
A chill raced up my spine. “We are, and I still have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Her lips curled up into a satisfied smirk. “Lincoln Erickson.”
My breath caught in my throat. No one outside of my sisters, Ashlyn, and Stella knew about my connection to Lincoln. I’d made sure of it. It was no one’s business, especially not Whitney’s. Next thing you know, I’d be plastered across the front page of the paper. “What about him?”
“So you do know him?” Her calculated gray gaze assessed me.
Shit, shit, shit!Whit was always good at getting the story. Why had I thought I could hide it from her?
“I don’t know if I’d say I know him.” I hedged, my heart beating a mile a minute.
“Harper! I know Bits and Bobs is working with him!” Sparks of anger lit up her eyes, and her hands landed on her small hips.
How in the world had she found out? “I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
“Harper, you can tell me. We’refriends,” she cajoled, her expression changing as quickly as the weather in our state did.
When her eyelashes beat up a storm against her cheeks, I knew I needed to put an end to this. Whitney was one for dramatics when she didn't get what she wanted. “Whit, that’s not going to work on me. I’ve known you too long.”
“Listen, Iknowyou’re working with him.” A grin stretched across her face. “I bumped into him the other day at the grocery store, and we got to talking.”
My eyebrows were probably in my hairline. For someone who was trying to protect his privacy, Lincoln was doing a shitty job of it. “Lincoln told you we were working with him?”
“No, but you just confirmed it. Thank you for that,” Whitney said, triumph gleaming in her eyes. “Actually, my cousin June’s boyfriend, Sam, works at the paint store near the newspaper and said Lincoln came in and was looking at paint colors. He happened to mention to Sam that Bits and Bobs was helping him get rid of stuff.”
Anger boiled inside of me. “Oh, well, I’m glad to hear his privacy is safe,” I bit out. Whitney didn’t care about people. All she cared about was the story. The woman had no shame.
“Well, I’m upset that I had to hear it secondhand and not from you.”
“I can’t discuss our customers with you. Famous or not.” Uneasiness settled in my chest. What would Whitney do if she knew he was my baby's father? I rubbed my baby bump, silently promising to protect this baby, and at the same time, hoping Whitney wouldn’t do what I feared she’d do if she found out the truth.
“You’re no fun. Whatever. I’m sure Lincoln would have told me himself at some point,” she said in a throaty, sexy voice.
“What?”
“He and I reallydidbump into each other at the grocery store. God, he’s even hotter in person. And those eyes. Who else has colors like that?” She let out a fluttery little sigh. “You could cut the sexual tension between us with a knife.”
I swallowed hard and fought against the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. What if they did have a connection? One that was stronger than the one we built during our weekend together? Maybe Whitney was delusional, but her physique seemed more in line with what I viewed as his type.
I bit my lip, hoping the pain would distract from the ache settling in around my heart. Not being able to face her, I turned away and stepped behind the counter. It had to be my hormones causing this fluctuation in my emotions. It's not as though Lincoln and I were a couple.
“Actually, he was about to give me his number when we were interrupted,” she continued.
