Under The Hood

Ch. 1

This is what I get for enjoying myself. The one time I decide to let my hair down—just go with the flow—I end up potentially pregnant. We used multiple condoms. So how, oh how, does that result in a baby?

I look at the pregnancy test resting on the bathroom counter and feel sick, turning away when the result hasn't popped up yet. Silently, I beg the universe to do me a solid. There's no way I can support a baby when I can't even pay my bills on time. There's approximately two eggs, a lump of cheese, and half a pack of wilting spinach in my fridge.

I can't do this... I cannot.

I'll admit, the sex was good. Sheet gripping, eye-rolling, scream-the-house-down good. Quite honestly, the best sex I have ever had.

And this is how the universe repays me?

I remember feeling the oddest shiver of premonition when I first felt his touch in the club, like my body knew something big would happen and I should run a mile. But the sweet talk leaving his mouth was almost Oscar-worthy, and I'm weak when it comes to trouble.

The gorgeous bastard.

My phone vibrates next to the test, which almost flies into the sink when I reach for my phone at the sight of my job agent's name.

"Hi, Lauren!" I cry. Any distraction is a good distraction.

She hesitates. "Everything okay? Is this a bad time?"

"No." I laugh it off. "Not a bad time at all. Do you have a job for me?"

It's a running joke of ours because the job pool is so shallow right now.

"Yes," she says, dragging the word out into song. "I have a mechanic in desperate need of a receptionist."

I gasp. "I can do receptionist."

It's not exactly getting me closer to my Broadway dreams, but I'll take what I'm given. I listen to her reel off the details. It's a luxury mechanic shop on the south-west side of the city. They're well established and pay well, too—all good things.

"The only catch is you need to get there within the hour. Is that doable?" she asks, which gives me some time to pick out an outfit and get on my way.

I squeeze the phone. "I can be there in forty-five."

"Oh, perf! I'll let them know. Speak soon," she responds, disconnecting the call just in time for my desperate squeal.

I jump in circles, squeezing my eyes tight in celebration of the job opportunity, when my eyes catch the pregnancy test sitting bright against the black wood bathroom counter.

Oh, good God. The air is sucked from my lungs as I stare at those two little lines.

I'm pregnant.

***

After scrambling to make myself look half-decent, I make the busy drive from my one-bedroomed flat to the side of the city where three-bedroomed houses are seen as small. It's been well understood throughout my life that I'm the country girl with aspirations too big for the small town I grew up in, but sadly, my dreams worked out to be harder to achieve here than I first thought.

The traffic is crazy up ahead, giving me time to try to come to terms with the fact I got myself pregnant by a stranger. We didn't exchange numbers. In fact, he didn't even say goodbye when he snuck out of my flat in the early hours. I was okay with that...  expected it.

But now I have to try to find him on the very limited information I have. Tall, yes. Coffee-coloured hair, also yes. Name, maybe? Contact info, big fat nope.