I worry my thumb over the gallery keys as the painters haul in their ladders and cans of pure white. Each step they take makes me wince.

“This is going to look so good,” Kaila says.

I just nod. The collection has all been moved into the back rooms in preparation for the painting job, but for some reason I can’t stop freaking out. I have this weird fear a ladder will fall and shatter a window, or a light fixture will break, or anything else that can go wrong will go wrong.

“Let’s get coffee,” I announce, only because I can’t handle watching the tenuous scene.

Kaila looks worried. “Don’t we need to be here to watch them?”

“We’ll watch from across the street.”

It’s a beautiful day—as good as they get—so after we order our iced lattes, we grab one of the few little tables in front of the coffee shop. Sure enough, we can see the painters through the gallery’s windows. The sun’s glint prohibits making out specific details, but at least we can tell nothing too disastrous is happening.

“Hey, have you heard from Sean or Frank?” Kaila winds a strand of hair around her finger and bites down on her lip in excitement.

Though I’d expected her to be less than keen to hear any details about my threesome with the guys, as it turned out, Kaila loved the whole story. Though it’s been four weeks since it happened, she’s still asking me random questions about it.

“No,” I tartly answer, shaking my plastic cup so the ice clinks around. “But if I’m not pregnant by now, I have to start considering that something might be wrong with me.”

“Or them. They could have really low sperm counts.” Kaila hunches her shoulders and looks around to see if anyone heard such a scandalous statement.

I shrug. “I’ll try again, I guess.”

Even though I don’t like that idea at all. Trying again means putting myself in the same fragile position I was before. Though I did everything I could to ensure I didn’t fall for Sean, it happened anyway. Some old habits really do die hard.

“Frank’s been called back into service,” I say, my eyes on the front entrance of the gallery. “So he’s out.”

“Oh. Well, you can still use Sean.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I give Kaila a serious look, no words necessary. She already knows all about how hooking up with Sean messed with both my head and heart. I want a baby, but not if I have to lose my sanity in order to get one.

“Hm.” Kaila picks at her cup’s lid, looking glum.

My cellphone rings, and I dig it out of my purse. Mom.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Hi, Violet. Are you at work?”

“Yeah, but the gallery is being repainted. What’s up?”

“There is this dinner tonight at Jeanette’s house. Do you remember her? She works the front desk at the office.”

“Kind of.” I glance over at Kaila, who’s busy reading something on her phone.

“Her nephew, Kyle, will be there. You don’t know him, but he’s in law school.”

“Ah.”

Usually, I’d get pissed at my mom for trying to set me up, but today I feel different. I had thought some space from Frank and Sean—especially Sean—was what I needed. But taking it has left me feeling empty. Like it or not, maybe I really do want a man in my life.

“Have you met him?” I ask.

“Uh-huh, and he’s so polite!” Mom sings. “He’s blond. You like blond guys, don’t you?”

I actually have a thing for redheads, but I don’t want to think about that.

“Depends on the guy, but sure,” I agree.

Kaila puts her phone down, eyeing me.

“Good. Come over about six and we can drive there together. He’ll be so happy to meet you.”

“Okay. See you then.”

As soon as I hang up, reality smacks me in the face. What am I doing?

Suppose I do go to this dinner and I hit it off with this guy. We start dating, and then what? If I turn out to be pregnant, what will that mean for our relationship?

But if I’m not…

My head spins.

“What did you mom want?” Kaila asks.

“She wants to set me up with a guy.” I gulp. “But I need to cancel it.”

“Do you?”

“Yeah. Of course. What if I’m pregnant? I can’t date. What if I find a guy I like? Do you really think he’ll stay around if I’m carrying a baby that isn’t his?”

“The right guy will,” Kaila flatly says. “If it’s love, then things will work out.”

I look down at my hands, knowing she’s right.

But I still think I’m going to face my mother’s wrath and cancel.

“How was Mr. Mochi’s obedience class?” I ask, needing to change the subject.

Kaila gives me a look that says we’ll be returning to the dating conversation soon. I’m not getting off that easy.

“He’s really bad. Or maybe I am. I don’t know… It took, like, forever just to get him to sit.”

“I’m sure he’ll get better,” I laugh. “With classes that expensive, they have to work, right?”

“Right,” she guffaws.

I take a sip of my latte, but something tastes off.

“What?” Kaila asks.

“It tastes…different.”

“Mine is fine.”

I shrug. “Come on. I guess we should get back, in case the painters have any questions.”

We check for traffic, and then scurry across the street. As soon as I step into the gallery, the intense smell of fresh paint hits, and my stomach rolls right over.

“Ugh.” I cover my mouth and nose.

“It’s strong, all right,” Kaila agrees, sipping away on her latte like the paint’s scent is anything but repugnant.

My stomach writhes again, and this time, it’s not just nausea. There’s something else coming up as well.

“Oh my God,” I gasp, rushing across the gallery.

I barely make it to the bathroom in time. Shutting the door behind me, I collapse on the floor and vomit into the toilet.

There’s a knock on the door. “Violet? Are you okay?”

I hurl again, my body shaking with the force. Gasping for air, I sit back on my haunches.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

Wiping my mouth clean with some tissue, I close my eyes and lean against the wall. My stomach feels stable now, the nausea completely gone. I can feel the sweat running down my forehead, though, and I’m exhausted.

Wait…

Getting up onto shaky feet, I open the door. “I just threw up,” I announce.

Kaila’s jaw drops. “Do you think…”

The coffee. The paint fumes. Those things have never made me feel sick before.

My heart races as I go into my office, Kaila following.

“Maybe.”

I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ve done that too many times, and it never leads anywhere good.

“What should we do?” Kaila frantically asks. “Should I get a test? Should we get you out of here? What if the paint is bad for the baby?”

“Calm down,” I answer, speaking not just to her, but to myself as well.

My stomach might be calm, but my legs are shaking. I take a seat behind my desk and inhale, nice and long.

I’m still freaked out. Excited. Scared.

Kaila presses her lips together and quietly watches me.

What do I do first?

I should take another pregnancy test before I call my doctor. But before I even do that, there’s something else I want to do. Someone I need to speak to.

“I need to see Sean,” I whisper, my eyes stinging with the beginnings of tears.

“But you said you didn’t want him involved.”

“I know,” I gasp. “I thought I wouldn’t.”

“Do you think it’s his?” Kaila whispers.

I gulp.

“I don’t know. I just know that I…I need to tell him about this.”

Why, I don’t know. We already agreed he wouldn’t be involved. He has no interest in having a kid—not with me.

But that doesn’t stop every cell in my body from screaming the truth: I need to see Sean. It’s unexplainable, but right now, he’s the only person who matters.