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Sweet Things
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Sweet Things
JA Armstrong
© Copyright 2017 Bumbling Bard Creations
All Rights Reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced without permission.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter One
July
Carrie sipped greedily from the coffee cup in her hand. She was sure she had completed at least a thousand tasks since arriving at work. How, she wondered, could she still have a thousand more on her desk?
“Sorry to bother you.”
Carrie looked up from the computer screen on her desk. “It’s okay. What’s up?”.
Heather offered her boss a lopsided grin.
Carrie set down the cup in her hand and took a deep breath. Heather’s expression either meant something amused her or something was not going to amuse Carrie. “Let’s have it,” Carrie said.
“Tom called while you were on the phone. He said he tried to call you. He sounded a little frazzled.”
Shit. Carrie had been consumed in her tasks. “I’ll give him a call.”
“Carrie, I know you are trying to wrap things up before your trip.”
If only that were possible. “As much as I can,” Carrie said. “It’s okay, Heather. You know how it is; no matter how many things get resolved, ten times as many pop up that need my attention.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help lighten the load.”
“You’ll be the first to know.” Carrie let out a heavy sigh and picked up her phone. She immediately noticed the missed calls. Shit. You have got to get some sleep, Carrie.
“Carrie?”
“Hey, Tom. I don’t know how I missed your calls. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I know you have a million things to do before your trip.”
Carrie immediately detected the strain in her friend’s voice. “Tommy? What is it?”
“She didn’t show up to court.”
Carrie’s eyes fell shut. Damnit, Dar. Her best friend and business partner had been missing in action for more than a week. At least, she had been missing from Carrie’s life. Dar hadn’t come into the office once, she hadn’t called, and she had been ignoring all attempts that Carrie made to reach her. Still, Carrie had not wanted to believe that Dar would fail to appear in court. She massaged her temple and sighed. Tom was suing Dar for sole custody of their daughter, CJ. “I shouldn’t be surprised,” she finally said.
“I thought she’d show for this,” Tom replied.
“Did you call her?”
“About fifty times. Maybe if you…”
“No. She won’t return any of my calls either,” Carrie said.
“Carrie…”
Carrie sighed. “I’ll make a few calls.”
“I…”
“I’ll call you a little later,” Carrie promised. Shit.
Carrie faced a difficult decision. Over the last month, she had discovered that Dar had forged her signature on expense approvals. The dollars continued to rise. It seemed the more that Carrie dug, the more there was to unearth. The total stood at $140,000 plus some change. Carrie was at a crossroads. The business employed fifteen people. The last thing that Carrie wanted to do was to put anyone out of work. She could invest some of her money back into the company. The issue confronting Carrie was legal. She’d debated with herself, cried to her fiancée, argued with her mother, and ultimately came to believe that one way or another Dar had to leave the business. It was heartbreaking for Carrie.
Darlene Willis had been Carrie’s best friend for more than eighteen years. They had survived college together, consoled one another after broken hearts, and spent more hours laughing than Carrie could count. Dar had become unrecognizable to Carrie in recent months. It started with little things: not returning calls quickly, forgetting to pick up CJ or bailing on her weekends with the toddler. Carrie would never have believed that Dar would steal from the company they had built together—never. She’d been reluctant to call it that—stealing. She’d attempted to talk to Dar. It seemed that no matter how much Carrie endeavored to be calm, fair, and reasonable, her overtures were met with hostility and accusation. She wanted to help Dar—to reach Dar. She still wanted that. But CJ’s needs and the needs of the people that depended on their business had to take precedence. If Dar would not bow out of her role at Maynard and Willis gracefully, Carrie no longer had a choice but to pursue Dar’s removal legally. What a mess.
For the better part of the last year, Dar had been focused on one account at work, Matthews and Mack. Matthews and Mack was spearheaded by Leigh Matthews, a powerful, beautiful, Harvard educated real-estate developer. Dar was convinced that landing Leigh Matthews as a client was their ticket to success. Dar had landed more than a client. She’d landed in the client’s bed. That wasn’t new. Carrie had never seen any of Dar’s obsessions last as long. Dar had been keeping constant company with Leigh and her entourage. If anyone might know where Darlene Willis was, it was Leigh Matthews.
Carrie stared at her phone. I can’t believe I am doing this. “Hello? Yes, this is Carrie Maynard. That’s right, Dar’s partner. Yes. Is Leigh available? Of course, I’ll hold.” God, help me.
***
“Dev!”
Devon shook her head and rolled her eyes. “What now, Solo?”
“You’re in a mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood if that’s what you’re implying.”
“Really? What’s with the grumpy then?”
Devon laughed. “I’m not grumpy. I just want to finish things up so I can get out of here.”
“Right! You have a day off tomorrow. How is it you get a day off tomorrow when you are leaving on Sunday for a week?”
Devon shrugged. “I told you; I have an appointment.”
“Uh-huh.”
“So?”
“What?” Bruce asked.
“You were the one screaming my name.”
“Um, no.”
“Funny. You’re not my type. What’s up?”
“I have a last-minute request for a small wedding next Thursday.”
“And? You know how to handle that by now. Deb can handle the menu without me.”
“It’s for Clint Vega’s daughter.”
“And?”
Bruce threw his hands in the air. “Clint Vega, Devon—you know who he is?”
Devon shook her head.
“Oh, my God, do you live under a rock?”
“No, I live in an old woman’s shoe. At least, I do until next month.”
“Ha-ha.”
Devon grinned. “Okay, tell me; who is this Clive Vegas.”
“Vega! Clint Vega! For a princess, you sure are uncultured.”
Devon chuckled.
Bruce sighed dramatically. “He’s the Broadway producer.”
“Okay? He’s the Broadway producer? It’s a big street, Solo.”
“He’s big, Devon.”
“Bruce.” Devon decided it was time to talk her best friend off the ledge he had placed himself upon. “It’s a wedding reception. Relax.”
“Can’t you meet with them tomorrow?”
Devon shook her head. “I can’t, not tomorrow.”
“Dev…”
“Bruce, I can’t.”
“Please?”
Devon huffed. “If you make it after four, I will try.”
“I’m sure that will work.” Bruce practically skipped off.
“I said, I’ll try,” Devon called after him. “I’m not promising you anything!” I need to rethink his nickname.
&nb
sp; ***
“I’m sorry to bother you,” Carrie attempted to be cordial.
“It’s no bother,” Leigh Matthews replied. “What can I do for you, Carrie? Heaven knows you’ve done plenty for me.”
Carrie rolled her eyes. Please. Carrie turned on her charm. “Well, we do what we can.”
“And, you’ve done it well. So, tell me; is there a problem with one of the designs or…”
“No,” Carrie put the thought to rest. “I was hoping you might have heard from Dar.”
Silence lingered.
“I realize this might seem strange—my asking you. I haven’t been able to reach her.”
“I haven’t spoken to her since Sunday night,” Leigh said. “I assumed she was busy with you.”
Carrie wasn’t certain how to respond.
“She mentioned that with all the new accounts, she thought you would need her in the office.”
Did she? “I’m sure she got cornered by a client or something,” Carrie said. Real convincing, Maynard.
“If I hear from her, I will tell her to call you,” Leigh said.
“I’d appreciate that.”
“Of course. If there’s anything I can do…”
Carrie rolled her eyes again. “Thank you. And, you let me know if you have any concerns with our team.”
“I’m not worried,” Leigh said. “I trust your judgment.”
Carrie was surprised by the sincerity she felt from Leigh’s statement. “Well, please know that if you do have any concerns, you can bring them directly to me.”
“I will.”
“Sorry again to bother you.”
“Bother me anytime,” Leigh replied.
Carrie disconnected the call with a shiver. Leigh Matthews made her skin crawl. She took a moment to process the conversation. What are you up to, Dar?
***
Devon heard the door open and smiled. “You made it.”
Carrie tossed her bag aside. “I’m sorry, I’m late.”
“It’s okay. I haven’t been home that long.”
“I thought you were leaving work early?”
“So, did I,” Devon said. “It’s a long story, and not that interesting. How was your day?”
“Long. Tommy called me this afternoon.
“Shit! That’s right; they had court today.”
“She didn’t show.”
“What?”
Carrie sighed. “Dar didn’t show.”
“You’re kidding?”
Carrie shook her head. “She still won’t return my calls. I ended up calling Leigh Matthews.”
“You’re kidding? You’re not kidding.”
“No. She hasn’t seen Dar since Sunday. At least, that’s what she told me.”
Devon moved to retrieve a bottle of wine. “Why don’t you go change and I’ll get us some wine. We can…”
“Order a pizza?” Carrie guessed.
“No.” Devon chuckled. “I brought dinner home from the restaurant.”
Carrie’s gaze narrowed. “What are you up to?”
Devon closed the short distance between them and captured Carrie’s lips with hers. “I just want us to have a relaxing night.”
Carrie stepped back. “Before tomorrow?”
Tomorrow, they would make their first visit to a fertility specialist. They hadn’t shared their plans with anyone. Devon didn’t need Carrie to tell her how nervous she was feeling.
Devon smiled. “I’m nervous too.”
“I don’t want to…”
“Get your hopes up?” Devon pulled Carrie close. “It’ll work out,” she said. “The way it’s meant to. We’ll be okay no matter what.”
“I know we will. I can’t help but think about it, Dev. All day, that’s all I could think about. I missed all of Tommy’s calls. I forgot about a meeting…”
“You’ve had more on your plate than anyone should have to deal with.”
“I don’t think that’s…”
“I know you don’t think so; you have. You’ve been picking up all of Dar’s pieces. I don’t know what Tom would do without you. And, CJ? Babe, you know she misses you when she’s away from you for a day or two.”
“I miss her too.”
“Me too,” Devon said. “You need this trip. You need a breath, Carrie. I know you. You’re feeling guilty about taking time off tomorrow for this appointment.”
“Not guilty,” Carrie said. “Just…”
“Guilty?” Devon raised a brow and smirked.
Carrie laughed. “Think you know me, huh?”
“I do know you.”
“I guess you do.”
“Go upstairs and get changed. Let’s have some dinner and a glass of wine and talk about anything but Dar.”
Carrie kissed Devon’s cheek. “I’m going.”
I wish I knew what to do. Devon watched Carrie’s figure retreat in the distance. There were times when Devon hated Darlene Willis. She loved Carrie. She thought the world of Tom, and she adored CJ. Tom and CJ were Carrie and Devon’s family—a permanent fixture in their lives. Dar’s downward spiral had rocked both Tom and CJ to the core. Carrie had been holding the pieces together for them both. Devon had been holding Carrie. From Devon’s perspective, Carrie needed to give herself a break. Carrie often put everyone else’s needs before hers.
When Devon proposed to Carrie, she also confided that she’d learned that Carrie might not be able to have children. Carrie had explained that a long battle with endometriosis was the culprit. At thirty-seven, with complications, Carrie’s ability to conceive waned by the day. Devon had suggested they not wait to discuss starting a family. Tomorrow would be their first step in building a family together. Devon knew that Carrie was both hopeful and fearful. Carrie was a caretaker. Caring for Tom and CJ, cleaning up after Dar’s messes at work gave Carrie things to focus on that she could control. Even if she couldn’t control or change Dar, Carrie had the ability to make a difference. Devon suspected that Carrie’s long hours at the office that week had as much to do with avoiding what she couldn’t control as it did with trying to make all the pieces come together for everyone else in her life. Please let us get some good news.
***
The Next Day
Devon held Carrie’s hand as the doctor began to speak. She could feel Carrie’s slight trembling and squeezed the hand in hers gently.
Dr. Roberta Chandler offered the couple a smile. “Relax,” she told them. “I understand how anxious you are for some good news. The first thing I think we should cover is that there is always good news. Your willingness to undergo more testing—and explore multiple options tells me that having a family is important to you both.”
“It is,” Devon said.
“Based on the medical history I have for you both, there are a few ways we can look to proceed,” Dr. Chandler observed.
“We’re open to anything,” Carrie said.
“Well, good. If I understand things correctly, your preference would be for Carrie to conceive.”
Devon started to speak, and Carrie cut her off. “It doesn’t matter how we make it happen.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.” Roberta Chandler had been helping couples start families for many years. The immediate drop in excitement that followed her statement did not surprise her. She smiled at the couple before her. “It’s good because if the first option becomes too stressful, we have other avenues we can explore.”
Devon’s ears perked.
“I’ve looked at all the test results, looked at your latest ultrasound,” she told Carrie. “It’s true; conception isn’t the easiest road for you. It’s not impossible. It does present some risks.”
“To the baby?” Devon asked.
“More for the mother,” Dr. Chandler replied.
Carrie sensed Devon’s panic and caressed the back of Devon’s hand with her thumb.
“I’m not an alarmist. I do believe that you should know all the risks if you are successful. And, I think there’s a
good chance for success.”
Carrie was stunned.
“Knowing potential issues helps us prevent them,” Dr. Chandler continued.
“Are you saying you think Carrie can get pregnant?”
“She can. That doesn’t mean that she will. If that’s what you would like to pursue, we can discuss the best way forward.”
“It is,” Devon answered.
Dr. Chandler took a deep breath. “In vitro fertilization will be your best chance to conceive.”
Carrie nodded her understanding.
“There are a couple of options I’d like you to consider.”
“Honestly, Dr. Chandler, Dev and I are here because we trust your experience.”
“I appreciate that. You have a donor in mind, as I understand.”
“We have options, yes,” Carrie said.
“I have to ask this. Is your donor related to either of you?”
Devon answered. “Carrie’s friend has offered. Her brother has also offered if things… Well, if we decide that I might be a better candidate.”
“That’s good. That gives us a variety of options. Let’s start where you hope to succeed and go from there. It’s not a quick process. I’d like to do a few more tests, Carrie.”
“Whatever we need to do,” Carrie said.
“If those confirm what I’ve seen in your records, then we’ll move to a round of fertility treatment to stimulate your egg production. From there, we’ll move to insemination. You should both be aware that there is a risk of a multiple birth.”
“You mean like twins?” Devon asked.
“It’s not uncommon,” Dr. Chandler said. “Far less likely with artificial insemination. I don’t see that as an option with great potential for success, at least, not in Carrie’s case.”
“Multiples don’t worry me,” Carrie said. “I’m a twin.”
Dr. Chandler laughed. “And, you Devon?”
“Is that riskier for Carrie?” Devon asked.
“Let’s cross those bridges if we come to them. Carrie’s overall health is excellent. If I didn’t believe that the possibility of a happy outcome outweighed the potential risks, this would be a different conversation. Let’s take it one step at a time.”