The Baby's Blessing: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance Novel

The Baby’s Blessing

A BWWM

Pregnancy Romance

For Adults

Published by Nina Ford at Smashwords

1st Original Edition

Published November 2017

Copyright © 2017 Nina Ford

This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are strictly coincidental. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format without the expressed permission of the author. Exception is made in the case of brief quotations used in published reviews.

Table of Contents

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Epilogue

Contact

Chapter one

Cal double-checked the address on his phone before peering back up at the unassuming brick building in front of him. According to the directions, he was in the right place. His confusion stemmed from the fact that the picture on the restaurant’s Yelp was clearly taken in its heyday. It had to have been. The weathered monstrosity he was standing in front of now was void of any signs of life.

Letting out one of his signature sighs, Cal pushed open the door and approached the counter as a string of bells went off behind him.

Welcome to Hattie’s, A smiling woman called out as she surfaced from the kitchen. Using the faint lines on her face as a guide, Cal placed her somewhere in her mid to late sixties. He also observed that while she was definitely on the heavier side, her enthusiasm was just about the biggest thing about her.

I’m here to find out about your catering service, Cal responded. "You do still cater, correct?"

Sure do, the woman confirmed. You won’t find a better selection or value than here at Hattie’s.

Are you her?

Pardon?

Hattie, Cal elaborated. I’m guessing you're her?

Oh, yes. That I am. What can I do ya for?

Cal stared at the woman for a moment. It was like he was trying to make sense of her with one look. I was wondering if I could open an account with you, he stated. I run a small business here in town that occasionally calls for catering. I heard you're one of the best.

Hattie stared back at him blankly. An account? What you mean an account?

You know, like an ongoing thing. If all goes well, I plan to order from you a lot. I figured opening an account would be easier than paying every time I come in…

Oooh! Hattie’s laughter reverberated throughout the small restaurant. Boy, you had me standing here wondering what the hell you was talking ‘bout. You shoulda just started with that. Talking ‘bout an account. Hattie’s laughter subsided into a few breathy chuckles. Well I guess I can do that. What kind of business you run, anyway?

A party planning one. I organize events. Sometimes I even host them. Cal was trying to remain professional, he really was, but Hattie smelled so strongly of stale perfume that it was beginning to burn his eyes. He didn’t want to offend a potential business partner though, so he inconspicuously wiped away the moisture before she could notice it.

Like weddings?

Yeah, and whatever else happens to come my way. Mostly weddings, though, yeah. Cal wondered how she’d managed to narrow in on his main source of clientele without any background knowledge on the company.

Well how much food you gonna be needing, exactly?

Probably about five to ten orders a month. Maybe a little more, maybe a little less. It all depends on my workload.

Hattie did the math, looking Cal up and down as she decided whether or not he was worthy of doing business with. Alright, she decided. Im’a need the money up front though. I don't work for free.

Cal nodded. How much?

"Two hundred. And that’s cash. None of them fancy cashier checks."

Okay. That sounds doable.

Alright then. Here. Fill this out. Hattie pulled an order form from underneath the counter that looked like it hadn’t seen the light of day since Clinton was in office, taking a moment to flatten it out.

Not bothering to read over the fine print, Cal scribbled in all the necessary information and handed it back to her. I’ll bring you the money as soon as possible, he promised.

Before you take the first order, Hattie said, gesturing towards the menu above her head. Cal worried that the food would be just as lackluster as the décor, but he was put at ease when he caught a whiff of a delicious scent wafting from the kitchen.

 You want the whole spread? Hattie asked him.

Uh, sure, Cal said, realizing that he’d yet to actually consider it. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn't given any of this much thought past his initial Google search. His assistant usually handed the catering end of the business, but being that she was away on maternity leave, the duty ended up falling temporarily on him. One thing though. You wouldn't happen to have any kosher options, would you?

Kosher? What, you Jewish or something?

No, but I do get a lot of Bar Mitzvah requests in the warmer months, Cal clarified. They won't touch anything that hasn't been blessed by a Rabbi. That's how I assume it works, anyway.

Hattie turned to look at the menu and tapped her chin in thought. Hm, alright. I can probably do that. Not for everything, but I'll make sure you got ‘least a few options so they don't go hungry. When you say you need this all by again?

Friday. If that's too soon, I’m fine with just—

It’ll be done.

Really?

Yup.

Cal was impressed by Hattie’s no-nonsense approach to doing business.

On the wall behind her hung a bronze plaque that stated she’d been in business for over twenty years, a feat he assumed she must have achieved through her enthusiasm alone. Whether or not her cooking factored in was still yet to be determined.

Well in that case, is there anything else you need from me? he asked her. Maybe an address for the delivery?

Hattie shook her head. Nuh-uh, sorry, but no. You’ll havta pick it all up here. I don't do delivery no more. My back ain't what it used to be.

Cal wondered what her back had to do with anything, but he didn't dare ask. It was obvious that she was a one woman operation. That's fine, he said instead, taking hold of the business card she extended to him.

I’d ‘preciate you spreading the word ‘bout my restaurant to your clients. If they like the food, maybe they'll start dropping in on they own. Lord knows I could use the business.

Cal took in the empty restaurant as if for the very first time and promised that he would, sliding the card inside his wallet for safekeeping. Can I come back later tonight with the money? Say…six o’clock?

No, not today. I got my bookkeeper comin’ by. You ever work with one of them before?

Nah. Never had to. I run a pretty tight ship. I’m usually fine with just handling all that stuff on my own.

See, that's what I thought too, then my knucklehead son went and messed up my tax return. Got me in hot water with the IRS. Now, I gots me a bookkeeper. She’s good, too. Larissa something or another. I don’t know, I’m not too good with names. But I got her card somewhere if you wanna give her a call.

Cal smiled. Maybe when I'm as successful as you are, he said, gesturing towards the plaque.

Hattie followed his gaze and beamed. Boy, this ain’t nothin’. Before I moved up here, I had a huge place down in Little Rock. You ever been?

Nope, can't say I have. How’d you end up in Cleveland, if you don't mind me asking?

That's a story for another day, Hattie said, waving a hand in the air. I gotta get my stuff together before this girl get here. Can you come back with my money tomorrow?

Yeah, sure. Cal backed away from the counter and headed for the door, thanking her once more before seeing himself out.

Back inside, Hattie inspected the order sheet Cal had filled out. As she did, it dawned on her that he hadn’t properly introduced himself. That was one of the things she missed most about Little Rock. Folks were so much more hospitable down there. This ‘Cal L. Hawthorne’ fella seemed nice enough, but Hattie was still sure she’d never see him again.

Pushing aside the encounter, Hattie left her perch at the counter and headed down the hall to her office. Once inside, she sat down at her desk and got to work organizing her financial records for her bookkeeper. In no time at all, she heard the bell above the front door jingle to signal someone's arrival.

Hattie emerged from her office to find a smartly dressed woman lingering near the counter. She looked upon the smattering of baked good offerings on display beneath the glass with casual interest, obviously taken by just how mouthwatering it all looked.

Hattie took in her off-white pantsuit and balked. Someone this fancy looked odd in her outdated little restaurant. The woman also had on a pair of expensive looking pumps, and she had her wavy black hair pulled back in a tight bun that Hattie was convinced would one day have a devastating effect on her edges.

What can I do for ya? Hattie questioned, emerging from her hiding spot in the hall.

I’m Vanessa Mercer, the woman introduced as her full lips curled into a practiced smile. I have an appointment with a Hattie Woodrow at four o’clock. Would you by any chance happen to be her?

Right, that's me. Come on back to my office. I don't talk numbers up front. Hattie started walking then, not bothering to look back to see if Vanessa was going to follow her. She just expected that she would.

Vanessa started walking, but she stopped short when she realized there was no one else in the restaurant to tend to the register while they worked. Shouldn't you lock up? she suggested. "I wouldn't want anything to