Page 62 of Ms. Lead

I raise my hands. “I get it, okay? I get it. But it doesn’t change my mind about things. It’s still a choice I can make for myself.”

Oscar stands and grabs his cane, reaching into his jacket. He pulls out a card and hands it to me. “See you Thursday. As the newbie, the first round is on you.” Patting my shoulder, he leaves.

I stare at the card, considering everything Oscar said. I feel like a hit-and-run victim, still trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Then, I get an idea.

Chapter Thirty-Two

BIANCA

I AM THE FIRE

Three Weeks After the Grand Canyon

“You don’t have to wait around, Bianca. I can wait for Terry to get back from his run.” I glance up from my desk and see Normandy leaning in the doorway, a look of concern on her creased brow.

“It’s no problem,” I say, shrugging. “I’m not going to Tahoe this weekend, so I don’t mind staying late.”

I haven’t been back to the house on the lake since I was there with Oliver. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to go back there. I’d hate for it to be ruined for me forever. What I need to do is let it go.

She walks into my office, sits in a chair across from me, and unconsciously splays a hand over her belly. I note it in my head but don’t say anything.

“So, how are you doing, really? We haven’t had a chance to really talk since… a few weeks ago, now.” Her cheeks redden as she alters her words to avoid saying Oliver’s name.

“You can say his name, Normandy. Since Oliver left.” While internally, I scream, on the outside, I shrug again. “I’m not going to fall to pieces at the sound of his name.”

“Okay, fine. How are you doing since Oliver left?”

“Not the greatest, but I’ll be alright. Eventually.”

I check my computer screen for the time. One of our drivers, Terry, was supposed to be back from the last job of the day by now, and I’m starting to get worried.

“Well, you don’t look alright. You look like you’re running yourself ragged. Have you eaten today?” She’s getting that maternal tone in her voice that she uses with Ava.

I study her closer.

“Yes. I ate earlier.”

“What did you eat? And when?”

“Gosh, mom. I had a Pop-Tart at lunch. Geez.” I glare at her.

While she’s my boss, I know I can get away with stuff like that since we’re also good friends.

She glances at her watch and frowns. “Bianca, it’s almost nine o’clock at night. Lunch was forever ago. You need to eat.”

“I’ll eat. Don’t worry. I’m not going to wither away to nothing over a late dinner. It’s all good.”

“Well, it doesn’t seem very good.” Now she takes her splayed hand and rubs her belly without thinking.

That’s it.

“Are you pregnant?” I ask, my tone accusatory because if she is, she should have told me by now.

Her hand freezes. “What? Why on earth would you ask that out of the blue?”

I pointedly glance down at her hand on her belly, then back up to her with an arched brow. She has to know I notice stuff like that.

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