23. Mia
Mia
Today I wore the damn loafers. I didn’t even look at my heels.
I was worried it would send Adam into his overprotective caregiver mode, but when I came downstairs this morning, he looked at them and laughed.
I doubt I’ll get that reaction two days in a row, and I’ll force myself back into them if I have to. I don’t want to lose who I am through all this, but just as I’m going to have to prep myself for several changes…I might as well ease everyone in on them, too.
My mother, specifically. She’s called me no less than twenty times since we left yesterday.
Have you looked up what you can and cannot eat? Did you get your prenatals? How much water are you drinking? Don’t take any medications other than Tylenol.
She’s also asked how far along I am, when my first doctor’s appointment is, and if she can come with me. As much as I appreciate her excitement, the answer to that last one is no. There will be other appointments, I’m sure, where Adam’s playing an away game and she can come then.
The first one needs to be me and him. Only. We deserve that.
Adam got a call from Olsson this morning letting him know that while he’s not getting a fine for the ejection, he’s pulling him from today’s game because he “felt he needed it.”
Adam wasn’t exactly stoked about it, but there was no argument to be made. He did need it. And I selfishly did, too. There’s no way I’d miss one of his games after the few days we’ve had, but I need to get some work done.
Although, with the list of stuff I need to get caught up on…
I could be here all night. I need to make the schedules, and payroll has to get done.
Inventory checks and orders need to be placed and recorded.
I have to look into my current advertisements and see if any need to be adjusted.
We have our annual health inspection coming up, and even though this place has never seen a number lower than ninety-nine in its lifetime—doesn’t mean I can accept it without ensuring that happens.
A knock comes to my office door, but even then, I don’t look away from my computer.
“Come on in.”
“Hey, Mia. I got this for you.” One of my chefs, Louis, walks in, and the sweet smell of one of my favorites has me abandoning everything.
“For me? I don’t mean to be rude, Louis, but why?”
He chuckles, then sets our honey berry grilled cheese and fries on my desk. “Your boyfriend called. He gave all the chefs season passes to make sure you don’t miss a meal.”
My jaw drops. I want to be mad that he went behind my back and talked to my staff about feeding me. I’m a grown woman. I can feed myself, and Adam knows that. Or at least, I think he does. If it were my mom who organized this—it would be a different story.
I take another good inhale of the sandwich and my mouth practically waters. You know what, I don’t care that much when the food smells this good.
Louis reaches for the plate. “I can make something else if you’d like. I remembered you liked this, but—”
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you.”
“No, thank you, or well, thank your boyfriend. My son will be so excited. If it’s not too much trouble, I’d love to be off the next weekend home game so I can take him.”
Reaching for my notepad, I jot it down on my list.
“I can do that. I’ll probably see you there, too.”
“Sounds like a plan, Mia. Enjoy your sandwich.” Louis starts to leave my office, but then hooks his hand on the frame and pops his head back in. “Oh, and Kim told me some guy named Harry is here? He just got his food, so if he’s someone you need to talk to, or avoid, he’ll be here for a minute.”
I nod, because I’ve already bitten into my sandwich. I cover my mouth with my hand. I know it’s impolite to speak with food in your mouth, but I don’t want to keep him from his job either. “Thanks, I’ll go see him in a sec,” I mumble.
With another bite, I pick up my phone and send a text.
So you bribed my staff to feed me. You’re lucky they made my favorite, or else I’d be a little insulted.
Incentivized is a better word for it. And in my defense, I said only when needed.
The season passes might’ve made them a little excited today I guess.
Or they saw their boss not in heels for the first time ever and thought today’s definitely needed.
… Now I am insulted.
I would like to point out that they’re still two-inch platform loafers. It’s not like I’m wearing ballet flats. Let’s get some perspective people.
Honey, I’m teasing you.
After my workout I told Olsson about the baby. He’s happy for us, said to let him know if we need anything.
A day off would be nice.
Tell me about it. How are you feeling?
Honest answer: All over the damn place. A full wheel of emotions ready to spin out of control at any tiny shift in the day.
Better now that I have this fancy grilled cheese and fries to stuff my face with.
Good. I’ll try to text when I can, but I’ll call when I’m headed to you.
Sounds good. I have no idea when I’ll leave here, but I’ll get back as soon as I can.
You misread my text, Mia. I’ll call when I’m on my way to you. Winedown or home.
And not because you need me, but because I want to see you.
My cheeks blush from the simple words displayed on my phone.
You know me so well.
After finishing up my sandwich, I push my chair back and decide to go ahead and say hi to Harry before he leaves. In light of everything, I haven’t exactly had the chance to follow up on the way he and my grandfather actually knew each other.
Considering the hovering I’m already experiencing from my mom, it’ll probably be best for me to figure it out on my own. I’m just waiting for her to bring up the idea of stepping back from Winedown so I can shut it down.
I also don’t really want to be the one to bring up the topic either. Knowing her, she’d use my grandfather’s friend as an out and insist they take it over so it can still be in his honor.
“Hi, Harry,” I say, standing across the bar from him. “Have a nice lunch?”
He chuckles, sets his fork on his nearly empty plate, and pushes it slightly forward. “It was amazing as usual.”
I smile and place his plate on the back bar to grab on my way back through the kitchen. “If you’re up for suggestions for next time, might I recommend the honey berry grilled cheese? It’s only on our lunch menu, and it’s to die for.”
“I eyed that one for a minute, but didn’t know how I felt about blueberries in a grilled cheese.”
“I hear you. All I’m saying is, don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. I was actually just finishing mine when they told me you were out here.”
He nods slowly and his eyes soften. “I hear congratulations are in order.”
“I-I’m sorry, what?” I blink, and my hands go right to my stomach. Is it really that obvious? My pant size hasn’t even changed yet.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. My wife and I had dinner with your parents last night. Your mother brought it up so cheerfully…I assumed—”
Of course she did. I let out a breath. “No, you’re okay. Knowing you heard it from my mother explains everything. I’ve been processing it still, but thank you.”
“Understandable.” Harry stands from his chair and sets a hundred on the bar top.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Unfortunately so. Like your grandfather, I never exactly retired.” He pulls his coat on and he looks right into my eyes.
“I know it’s not exactly my place to say, but last night we talked about how your grandparents would’ve liked Adam—I, however, talked a lot about how much your grandfather would’ve loved seeing you here in his place. ”
My heart slams into my chest. The pain is so excruciating that I can’t even begin to express what it means to hear that.
“I’ll see you next week, Mia. I look forward to hearing baby and business updates. And I intend this as a friendly gesture—if you need any help, ask away.”
Finally, I find the strength to swallow the lump in my throat. “Thank you, I appreciate that.”
He nods. “Keep up the good work, Mia. Your grandfather would be very proud.”
I’ve always believed in fate, to an extent. I believe that being lucky is a construct formed by hard work. But I had never really given much thought to the afterlife and ghosts until now.
It might all seem a little woo-woo, but in an odd way it makes me feel better. My grandparents were both pretty stubborn, so forcing a narrative in the afterlife seems right up their alley, or at least I hope they’re getting a kick out of watching it unfold.
Back in my office, I take a deep breath and examine my desk. Work has piled up, but it’s manageable. I brought the baby journal Wyla gave me and my giant planner.
“Alright, maybe you’re watching me, and maybe I’m crazy—” I’m talking to myself and my ghost grandparents. “But in case you are—I’m going to figure this out. I can do this.”
The moment I pick up my pen, I’m locked in.
I start brain dumping for both baby and work. Then I reorganize them by priority. I make notes about the recurring things I have to do for even the tiniest of tasks. Daily, weekly, monthly; every little thing that has to happen.
I write out all of Adam’s games and their times.
I don’t have an exact due date yet, but I work off the weeks in general and assign tasks I want to accomplish to each week.
I want my nursery completely set up before thirty-five weeks.
I want to plan to go to at least one set of away games where I actually take time off and travel to watch Adam.
So I go back to my work journal and orchestrate that.
My only clue that it’s dinner time is when one of my other chefs brings in a plate of our creamy Tuscan ravioli. The food honestly gives me the fuel I need to keep going. I knock out more than half of the stuff I needed to get caught up on for the bar.
Payroll is done.
Schedules are made.
Orders we’ve received are recorded and reflected in my expenses database.
I spend some time looking over a few of my investments and schedule a call with my financial girl to make a few adjustments. It’s not ideal—in my mind, at least—to hire someone to help toward the end of my pregnancy and maternity leave, but it’s for the best to have a safety net.
I print off some fresh inventory sheets and the checklist the health department provided for inspections—telling myself they can be what I start fresh on first thing in the morning, but I’m so in the zone, I don’t know how to stop.
Grabbing the warm papers from the printer, I march right out my door just to get a head start and slam into what feels like a wall.
“Christ, Mia, are you okay?”
Adam’s voice feels like a glitch in my system. His strong arms hold me close, and all it takes is one inhale of whatever scent it is that makes him smell so good that my manic episode starts to taper off.
“Hey, I thought you were going to call?”
Adam chuckles, but his forehead has worry lines. Hell, I think I might age him faster with all this stress.
Damn, I bet he’ll be so hot with salt and pepper hair.
“I did, honey. You didn’t answer, and somehow I knew you were still here.”
Mm, that doesn’t seem right. “Are you sure you called? What time is it anyway? Aren’t you here early?”
Adam mumbles a few curses. “It’s nearly midnight. What in the world have you been doing in there? Louis said you’ve been holed up in your office practically all day.”
Oof, midnight? Surely that’s an exaggeration. I reach for my phone, but it’s not in my pocket… Where is it, actually? I suppose missing his call makes sense because I don’t remember the last time I saw it.
Adam lets out a sigh. “Come on, honey, I’m taking you home.”
“But—” I hold up the papers in my hand, but Adam takes them from me.
“No, absolutely not. It can wait until tomorrow. Want to walk out of here or me carry you?”
“You will do no such thing.” I all but stomp my foot. If I could confidently say there are no customers at the bar, I’d call his bluff just to be a brat about him giving me choices.
Taking the papers back from him, I look over the list that’s several pages long. If I start on this, I won’t want to stop until I’m finished.
Looking back at Adam, the sight of him alone has the tension leaving my shoulders. Climbing into my bed and cuddling up next to his warm body really is so tempting.
I let out an exasperated breath. “Fine, can I at least get my stuff?”
Adam holds out a hand with a cocky smirk.
“Keep it up, All-star, and I’ll lock myself in my office to prove a point. You’re only getting me to leave now because I still want to be around you, but you’re toeing the line.”
“Okay, baby,” Adam says, following me back to my office.
“I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” His hands grip my waist and he spins me around, pulling me flush with him. “If you really want to stay and finish whatever you’re doing, I’ll stay and help.”
If he’d said that in the hallway, I probably would’ve taken him up on it, but with another inhale of him, the want of being in bed with him gets stronger. I’m actually getting more irritated at the fact that I’ve put up this much of a fight to begin with.
His forehead rests on mine. “It’s up to you, honey.”
“I’ll have you know that there was a time when I’d be here till dawn because leaving in the middle of a task just felt wrong to me.” Leaning back, I look in his eyes. “But right now, I want to go home with you.”
Adam tilts my head up by my chin. This smile on his face has my whole body feeling weightless, and this kiss he gives me has me a little worried that the butterflies erupting in my stomach might actually lift me up.
I don’t feel grounded until he breaks and plants a kiss on my forehead.
“Let me get my stuff and we can go.” I begrudgingly pull back from his arms and move straight to my desk. The temptation to leave it all here lingers in the back of my mind, but I’m not sure I’ll ever be that carefree.
I make sure everything’s shut off and my drawers locked.
“I got so much done today, it’s insane,” I say as I shove all my notebooks and planner in my bag.
“Do you think it was the comfy shoes?”
I straighten my spine. “That’s it. I was going to wear heels tomorrow but that hurt my soul a little. I need a pair right now, actually.”
Adam chuckles, taking my bag and cups my face. His lips on mine have all the tension slowly dissipating from my body. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’d love to hear about everything you did today on the way home.”
“I’m glad to hear that, because I was going to tell you, whether you wanted to hear it or not.”