Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Not wanting to get attached to anything, I didn’t walk through the rest of the apartment. I’d get a shower, sleep here, then go tell them tomorrow morning before I went on a job hunt for something I was qualified for.
Sitting down on the sofa, I laid my head back and touched my small bump. I’d been feeling weird butterfly-like flutters in my stomach this evening. It had happened yesterday, too, and I was going to ask the doctor about it, but that had all gone downhill fast. I had become an emotional wreck. It was a miracle they hadn’t tried to check me into the psych ward.
I had four weeks until the next appointment, and if Liam wanted to come to that one—I couldn’t be sure since he’d not cared about today’s checkup—then I had to get my head ready to face him. I sure hoped four weeks would be enough time. Right now, it didn’t feel as if a lifetime would be enough.
I missed him.
I laughed out loud. “How pathetic is that?” I asked aloud, then remembered I didn’t have Ozzy here to hear me.
There was no one to talk to. It was just me.
I looked down at my stomach. “Not true,” I said. “I have you.”
The lonely feeling eased some at that thought.
“I’m going to pull it together—I promise you that. By the time you arrive, I’ll have a job and an apartment.” I paused and looked around. “Probably not this nice, but you can’t see this place, so you won’t be disappointed.”
The weird butterfly feeling was back. I sat there with my hand on my stomach as it continued.
“Is that you?” I stared at my stomach.
Was that him kicking?
I grabbed my cell phone and googled it.
Quickening is when a pregnant woman starts to feel her baby’s movements. It might feel like flutters, bubbles, or tiny pulses.
I dropped my phone onto the sofa and placed two hands on my stomach. “That’s you!” I squealed as a sliver of joy broke through the agony.
One male had broken my heart, but it seemed another one was already working on mending it.
A knock on the door caused my head to snap up, and I stared in that direction, wide-eyed. Had they figured out their mistake already? Was that them coming to ask me to leave? Very likely.
I patted my stomach and stood up. I could take whatever happened.
When I reached the door, I unlocked it and opened it to see an older lady with short gray hair in a helmet style, wearing a blue pantsuit.
“You must be Liberty,” she said as she straightened the tortoiseshell glasses perched on her long, narrow nose. “Very good. Seems you found the place and got in with no problem.” She turned and picked up a massive gift basket and then held it out to me. “I am Martha Depough, HR manager for GG Center. This is for you.”
I had no choice but to take it or be knocked over by it. “Oh, uh, thank you, but I—there …” I stopped and put the basket down on the table so I could see her while I explained this.
She was over by the paperwork that had been left for me. “Don’t worry about this tonight. Just bring it in with you tomorrow.”
“Yes, but, like I was trying to say, I believe there has been a mistake,” I blurted out, hating that I had to do this. I really wanted to be able to stay here tonight.
Her brows drew together. “How so?”
I smiled. “I’m sure you saw my résumé, and I’m not qualified for a job that comes with an apartment like this, a salary that high, and”—I waved a hand at the basket, filled with food, that was almost half as tall as me—“welcome gifts such as this.”
She took out her phone and tapped on the screen. “You are Liberty Virginia Dillard, birth date April 6, 1993. Your last place of work was Abernathy’s. Correct?”
“Yes, that’s me, but …” I held my hands out at the apartment. “I don’t—I mean, I didn’t think I was qualified for a job this nice. I don’t have a college degree. You saw that, right?”
The woman tucked her phone back into the pocket of her blazer. “You think we made a mistake because you don’t have a college degree?”
I nodded.
“Why don’t you prove that we didn’t make a mistake and show us that you belong here? That you are worth this apartment and the salary attached.”
Was she serious? I opened my mouth and closed it. I didn’t know what to say. I had been sure she would be ushering me out of here by now.
“What do you say? Do you believe you can do this job?”
I wanted to say I didn’t know, but this woman seemed to have faith in me that I didn’t. The small flutter in my stomach reminded me of what all I had to fight for.