Chapter 7 Amara
AMARA
“Alright, ladies, hold ‘em high!”
Both Renee and I lift our glasses.
“Cheers to Friday!” Kira shouts.
“Hell yeah!” Renee pumps her fist. “Fuck me, I needed this. You know I had back-to-back root canals this morning? That’s like, four hours of suction and nastiness. And that was after a kid bit me during a cleaning.”
“And cheers to our black cat coworker finally coming out with us!” Kira adds with a seductive eyebrow wiggle, which makes me burst into laughter.
I raise my mocktail in the air. Tequila or no tequila, it’s fruity and has a cute little umbrella and is honestly pretty damn good. Though I am counting down the days until I can have a glass of wine or a strong margarita. On the rocks, salted rim, please and thank you.
“Well, I figured it’s time I did something fun,” I say. We are at one of the town’s only bars, a little dive down in the middle of everything with a generic drink menu but some of the best artichoke dip I’ve ever had.
“You only came out with us for the appetizers,” Kira teases. “Just admit it.”
“Never.” I smile. “But I have been craving buffalo wings.”
We burst into giggles again.
Okay, so maybe I don’t actually hate this. I still miss New York, mostly because I miss my friends, but this isn’t bad either.
I wish Electra was here, though. We hardly talk anymore.
I told her I had some issues with a friend of Gianni’s (not a lie) and that we had to get out of the state to avoid conflict (also not a lie) and that I would be a little radio silent for a while.
It sucks because I’m certain she feels betrayed, but considering the circumstances, there’s not much I can do about it.
Honestly, it’s also nice because I never really got to hang out with coworkers before.
At Apex, everyone was terrified of me other than Annette, the secretary.
But she was too dull even for small talk, so that obviously never went anywhere.
And while Kira and Renee aren’t the kind of girls I’d normally hang out with, it’s nice to just go out with the girls.
Like I’m a normal person living in a normal town living a normal life doing normal things.
“So what are your siblings doing tonight?” Renee asks, and immediately I feel a pang of guilt.
“They’re at home,” I tell them.
“I still think it’s wild that you take care of them the way you do,” Kira says. “Not having had good parents or a good childhood. God, I can’t imagine. I don’t know how you have time for yourself.”
“Well, she obviously has some time for herself,” Renee says. “Or she wouldn’t be…” she waves her hand over my mid-section.
“Where is this guy, anyways?” Kira asks.
“Kira!” Renee says with mortification.
“What? Our friend is single and pregnant. I think it’s a valid enough question. She’s doing all the things on her own. We can’t support her if we don’t know the situation.”
Renee looks apologetic, but also very obviously curious.
I decide to go with the most recent and most plausible answer. “He’s in the military.”
“Oh! So you’re still together?” Kira asks.
“No. I mean… It’s complicated,” I say, suddenly realizing that now I have to come up with a real fake story.
“Complicated because he doesn’t know you’re pregnant?” Renee asks.
I guess that works.
I shake my head, forcing a victimized look, and they both coo sadly.
“Wait, so it’s his, right?” Kira asks.
“Yes,” I say quickly. Because it is, no doubt about that.
“Then why haven’t you told him?” Renee asks. “Maybe he can get some leave to come see you. At least for the birth.”
“He… isn’t very involved,” I answer.
“Of course not! He’s out there serving our country in that sexy uniform, putting his life on the line,” Kira goes off, her eyes in another place entirely. “God, I love a man in uniform.”
“Does he want kids?” Renee asks, and I think about that.
“I don’t actually know. I think… he’s supposed to have kids. For legacy reasons or something.”
“God,” Renee groans. “What is it with men and their legacy? All these average dudes thinking their bloodline is going to be important. Meanwhile, they work in, like, construction. Don’t even have a 401k.
And you have to ride their ass to unclog the toilet after the spend forty-five minutes fucking it up. ”
Kira shakes her head. “That’s why I only date men who wear Sperrys.” We both just stare at her. “What?”
“What do Sperrys have to do with being datable?” Renee asks, and I giggle, happy that the conversation is no longer revolving around my mystery baby daddy.
“Well, think about it,” Kira goes on. “Have you ever seen a man who pours concrete for a living wearing Sperrys? No. You haven’t.”
“Jesus Christ.” Renee shakes her head.
And as crazy and shallow as this all is, it’s nice to get out.
We order more food and more drinks and talk about everything from the new student dentist at work—a cute kid who both my coworkers are fawning over but I am thoroughly convinced is not single—to the latest episode of Love is Blind.
For the first time in a very long time, I feel like I can turn my brain off.
Well. Almost.
Ever since I saw the guy that I could have sworn was Maverick, I have been a little on edge. And while I haven’t seen the car again since then, I still find myself looking over my shoulder all the time, constantly checking my surroundings just to make sure I’m safe. And not crazy.
After my third mocktail, the baby shifts and I gasp, hopping off my barstool.
“Everything okay?” Renee asks.
“Yeah, I just have to pee. I feel like it’s all I do anymore.”
They both fawn over my belly for a moment, another thing that feels good considering they know nothing about my situation. Then I follow the bathroom signs and make my way to the back of the bar.
“I told you Mystery Mommy would be fun!” Renee shouts over the music.
“Not out of earshot yet!” I call back over my shoulder. They’re both grinning at me, and Renee is throwing me a wink. I nearly pee myself on the way to the bathroom.
Then my grin fades.
Just before I look away from the girls, I swear that he’s there. A man that looks unmistakably like Maverick, standing by the front door in a black hoodie and black jeans. Almost like the bouncer but shorter, leaner, darker skin and longer hair.
But on second glance, the man is gone.
I go into the bathroom forgetting all about the fact I had to pee. Instead, I find myself hyperventilating in the mirror. I grip the counter in my hands as the world feels fuzzy, spinning around my head fast enough to make me feel sick.
“Hey, are you okay?” A woman washing her hands is kind enough to ask.
“Yeah. Just a little nauseous is all.” I force a smile, but my jagged breath says differently.
“You’re not going into labor, are you?” Her eyes go from my belly to my face and back. “You don’t look far along enough.”
That must be what it looks like, the way I’m bent over the sink breathing through my mouth. “No, I’m not.”
“Third trimester hormones, then.” She smiles, shutting the water off and grabbing a paper towel to dry her hands. “I remember them well.”
I smile back. But it’s not hormones.
I know what I saw. And it’s not the first time. The black car. The tinted windows. The watchful eye that I constantly feel on my back.
It doesn’t really make sense. Maverick was shot. He was wheeled out of the warehouse covered in his own blood. Maybe he’s dead and I’m being haunted by his ghost.
Get a grip, Amara. You’re not being stalked by a ghost. Although that would be an appropriate form of punishment, wouldn’t it?
I splash water on my face. I know it’s him. He’s spying on me. The only question is why?
And while I don’t have the answer, I do know one thing.
If Maverick’s here, Ransome can’t be far behind.