Page 67 of Anyone But the Boss

I stop perusing the shipment schedule of the lights for the store’s new display on my computer. ‘Do you have me on speaker?’ I hate being on speaker. Something my brother is very well aware of.

Chase pauses before answering. ‘Maybe.’

‘How’s my baby doing?’ Bell asks.

‘Hey.’ My brother sounds as insulted as he was for my reticence. ‘I’m supposed to be your baby, not Mike Hunt.’

‘Aw, are you jealous?’ Bell’s baby-voice is followed by kissing noises.

For someone as accomplished and smart as Bell, I don’t know how she finds my brother’s petulance attractive.

I pinch the skin between my eyes. The pain isn’t as sharp as it was yesterday, but it’s enough to distract me from their obnoxious display of affection. ‘Do I need to be here for this conversation?’

‘Sorry, sorry.’ Bell’s voice is back to normal. ‘But really, how is Mikey?’

I remember the beast’s beady little eyes, so full of judgment from his perch on the stairs as I left for work this morning. ‘Alive.’

Chase laughs, his earlier ill humor apparently forgotten. ‘No need to sound like that vexes you, Tommy-kins.’

‘Is he eating okay?’ Bell asks, ignoring my brother’s amusement. ‘How about his bowel movements? We all know he doesn’t travel well.’

My silence speaks volumes.

Chase, knowing full well how capable I am of dropping her ‘baby’ off at a boarding facility, jumps in. ‘Babe, I don’t think—’

‘Did Emily explain about the litter box?’ Bell continues. ‘I wrote it down in the informational binder I had delivered along with his toys and bedding, but sphynxes have extremely potent bowel movements so it’s best to…’

I’m about to hang up when another voice enters the phone call.

‘What. The. Hell.’ This time it isn’t Chase exasperated, but George.

I sigh, equally as piqued. ‘Just how many people are—’

‘Why was your mother buying children’s clothes this morning?’ George nearly screeches. ‘Are you guys pregnant?’

‘Wait, what?’ Chase sounds as shocked as I feel. ‘No, of course not.’ There’s a beat of silence. ‘Or are we?’

‘I’m not pregnant.’ Bell’s voice is firm. ‘At least not right now.’

A bad feeling grows in my stomach where the pancakes are probably still lodged, glued together with a copious amount of syrup. ‘How do you know our mother was shopping for children’s clothes?’

‘It’s all over the employee Facebook group.’ George’s voice is back at a normal pitch now that Bell’s imminent birth has been disproved. ‘There are pictures of your mother in the children’s department buying princess dresses.’

‘That can’t be.’ I pinch the bridge of my nose harder, but the pain doesn’t dispel my growing sense of doom.

‘I thought Mom was on a cruise?’ Chase asks.

‘She’s back!’ George’s voice rises again. ‘Someone just posted they saw Mrs Moore in the women’s section with a woman and young girl.’ George pauses. ‘Ooo, there’s a picture.’

My computer mouse nearly breaks in my grip.

‘Who is it?’ Chase’s voice fades and I can imagine him facing away from his phone to look over George’s shoulder.

‘Huh. I swear I’ve seen that dark-haired woman next to Emily before,’ George muses. ‘Isn’t that—’

I lower the phone onto its receiver with a soft click. Pressing the intercom I direct the temp, in a clear, direct and somewhat menacing tone, not to let any calls through except those from my lawyer and the private detective.

Then I drag my creaking mouse over to the internet browser and do something I never thought I’d do in a million years – join Facebook.

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