Lonely Heart
college?”
    “Theater.”
    “You went to school to be an actress?”
    She smiled. “Not really. Actin’ was a great way to escape not bein’ happy at home. I preferred workin’ in the costume department, which is what I focused on when I was in college. Back home, I dreamed of moving to L.A. and workin’ in Hollywood. Now I do.” A smile of satisfaction brightened her features and the laugh lines returned.
    “Really? What do you do?”
    “I am Assistant Costume ─” she laughed. “Correction, I was Assistant Costume Designer for the show, Just How She Likes It .”
    I heard of that show, it was one of Adrianna’s favorites. “Was?”
    She glanced at me. “Not anymore. I’m now Head Costume Designer for a new show that will start taping in a few months. Sorry, can’t tell you what it is yet…contract.” She pantomimed a lock and key over her mouth.
    I nodded, then smiled in awe.
    “What?” She moved a strand of fallen blond hair out of her face, tucked it behind her ear.
    Distracted by the movement, I cleared my throat. “You’ve reached your goal. You should be proud.”
    “Yeah, I have, and I love it, wouldn’t change it for the world. Though I have to admit, the last few months have taught me there’s more to life than gettin’ your dream job.”
    “True. What does that mean to you?”
    She tilted her head to the side. “Bein’ able to find happiness in my personal life.” She stopped folding clothes and placed both hands on her stomach. Her eyes lit up as her hand moved. “Whoa, somebody’s awake now.”
    My attention went to where her hands lay on her belly. The miracle within pushed her hand up and down. I remembered feeling my nephew moving in my sister’s stomach. I joked saying her son would be destined to become an Olympic athlete.
    My sisters’ laughter drew my attention. Julio once again made his best attempt at a handstand.
    Children were a blessing. His dad didn’t know what he missed.
    My attention went back to Kaitlyn, curiosity getting the best of me. “Where’s the father?”
    Kaitlyn’s eyes shot me. “Excuse me?”
    Like it was any of my business. “I wasn’t trying to pry. You mentioned it was just you and the baby that day at the shop.”
    “I did, didn’t I?” Her lips tightened. “It seems a happy family life isn’t meant for me, at least not in the traditional sense.” She shrugged. “My goal is to be a good mother.”
    She didn’t seem as though she would answer the question, so I let it go. “It sounds like you have a good shot. Since your sister is here, you’ve got family again.”
    “I know, and two best friends to rely on, well, when they are available. Oh, speakin’ of which, I gave them your number, to the shop that is.”
    “Thanks. Word of mouth is always the best form of advertisement.”
    “Especially when the service is good. You went above and beyond with me, Antonio. I don’t know if you felt guilty for makin’ me carless or because I’m pregnant.”
    I laughed. “A bit of both.”
    Kaitlyn returned my smile. “Either way, I appreciate it.” Finished with her clothes, she gathered her purse.
    It appeared she felt better. Her eyes were no longer red and her cheeks had regained their normal creamy complexion.
    “Are you sure you’re ready to get behind the wheel? I can drive your car and have my sister follow.”
    “Oh no, Antonio, you have done enough. I’m fine now.” She stood and seemed to be okay.
    “At least let me carry your baskets to your car. Just promise you’ll leave them for Tiffany to haul in when she gets home.”
    “Yes, Doctor.” Those soft lines formed around her eyes again as she laughed.
    Satisfied with her response, I gathered the baskets and followed her outside. She unlocked the back door, holding it open while I slid them in. I, in turn, held the driver’s side door as she got behind the steering wheel and strapped in.
    “Be careful.” A part of me wanted to ask her to call the minute she

Similar Books

Murder in Foggy Bottom

Margaret Truman

Chance Of Rain

Laurel Veil

Twisted Winter

Catherine Butler

The Arm

Jeff Passan

Ghost Stories

Franklin W. Dixon

Last Things

C. P. Snow