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That really doesn’t answer my question.

“I’m just feeling… stressed out,” she says.

“You work too hard. You should quit the waitressing job. You don’t need it now.”

She stares at me. She looks kind of alarmed. “Why would you say that?”

Because the more time I spend with her, the less I want her working that job.

But I can’t say that to her.

Instead, I tell her, “You can keep using my kitchen, and I can help in other ways, to take some pressure off. Maybe with an investment. And I can help you with transportation.”

“What do you mean?”

“You have to deliver your cakes around town, right? I didn’t see your car in the driveway when I got home. Did it break down again?”

She stares at me. “How do you know my car broke down?”

“You took it into the shop when I had you under surveillance. How often do you have problems with it?”

She takes a deep breath and doesn’t answer.

“You need a reliable vehicle, Quinn.”

“I’m aware of that. Obviously.”

“You must be making some kind of profit from your baking. And if you’re not, you should be. It might seem like a scary move, but it’ll be easier for you to grow your business if you give up waitressing and focus on it.”

“That’s not really for you to decide.”

“Right. What do I know about business?”

“Well, maybe if my grandfather left me a billion dollar empire, and I had four siblings to help me, I’d be business savvy too.”

I’m not sure how this is turning into an argument.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “That wasn’t fair. I’m a little on edge right now.”

“It probably was fair,” I admit. “But I was just trying to be supportive.”

She doesn’t look happy, and I’m confused.

I thought what she truly wanted was to focus on her bakery business. She said that was her dream. But she appears to be getting more stressed out over this conversation.

“I didn’t think you loved being a waitress, or having to work in your kitchen at home.”

“I don’t. I can’t do this, Harlan. I?—”

“Then why don’t you?—”

“I’m pregnant.”

She stares at me, with tenderness and fear and so many emotions in her eyes, it overwhelms me.

I struggle to absorb those words.

I don’t know what to say. And the look on her face tells me it’s taking me way too long to say anything.