Chapter 12: Coffee at Shelby's

I went to Shelby's house at two o'clock, while Brett was across town on a job site.

I'd asked him to stay there until I called.

I wanted her alone, with no one to protect her from her own mouth.

I turned on the voice memo on my phone and slipped it into my coat pocket before I rang the bell.

She opened the door in a soft sweater and bare feet.

"Mar," she said, and her whole face went warm. "You came."

"I did."

"I've been so worried. Come in, I've got fresh coffee."

I walked into the kitchen.

The walnut bookcase from my sketch stood in the next room, finished and oiled.

I looked at it for a long time.

Shelby set two mugs on the island, and I left mine untouched.

"Is it the baby?" she said.

I went very still.

"What baby?"

"Oh, honey." She tilted her head. "I saw the lab slip in your clutch at the gala. You left it on my chair when you went to fix your hair."

She stirred her coffee.

"I'm so happy for you. I have been, all week. I just didn't think it was my place to say."

She had known since Friday night.

She had known when she raised her paddle, and when she stood beside me and said it was charity.

"Does Brett know?" she said.

"No."

"Good," she said softly. "He's in a fragile place. It could push him back toward you for the wrong reason."

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