Page 120 of Buy Back My Love

“Probably.”

“I’m pregnant.”

“I heard you.”

“By another man.”

“I heard that part too.”

I frowned at him. “Then why you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you might do it again.”

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

“I might.”

That was enough to get me up out of that chair. “See, this why you need to get back to painting.”

Van laughed as he stood. “Yes, ma’am.”

“And move your chair over there.”

“My chair didn’t do anything.”

“Move it.”

Still laughing, he picked up the chair and carried it across the room while I started gathering our trash. I should’ve felt worse about kissing Van than I did, especially after telling him I was pregnant. Problem was, I still wanted to kiss him again.

Lee

Life had been moving so fast I barely had time to sit down and think about any of it. Anika was officially married now, somewhere on a beach with Trevon enjoying her honeymoon, and the set I did for her wedding had damn near put me right back on the map. I posted the pictures, her photographer posted them, then somebody else reposted them. Next thing I knew, my booking site was going crazy. My books had been packed ever since, and I wasn’t complaining.

Every now and then, I’d look around the suite and still couldn’t believe I was really working out of my own spot. Those ugly red walls were long gone. Mama helped me pick out decorations because according to her, if she left everything up to me, the whole place was gonna be pink. Van handled most of the stuff that needed tools. He put my desk together, mounted the TV and polish shelves, hooked up the pedicure chair, and put together the rest of the furniture. Anika helped where she could, but she had a whole wedding to get through. I wasn’t finna be that sister calling her about some shelves while she was trying to make sure her dress fit.

Now everything was finally where I wanted it, and I was right where I wanted to be too, behind my nail table working.

The woman sitting across from me made the whole thing feel even crazier. She was the same client whose nails I had been doing the day my life went left five years ago.

I ran the file along the edge of her last nail, brushed away the dust, then rubbed cuticle oil around her fingers.

“All done.”

She pulled her hands back and turned them under the ring light, admiring them from every angle.

“Girl, I’m so glad you back. Ain’t nobody been doing my nails right since you left. My nails been missing you.”

I laughed. “Girl, please.”

“I’m serious. I saw Anika’s wedding set online and booked the second I realized you was taking clients again.” She looked around the suite. “This feel crazy. I ain’t sat at your table in years.”

“Five.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”