We were in the handicapped dressing room of a store that I’d never been to.

All of us. Including Rider and Cutter, who had proved through a mannequin incident in a previous store that they needed constant vigilance.

And I was standing in front of the mirror in my jeans and a tube top.

It wasn’t your average, everyday tube top.

It was a muted forest green in a smooth, stretchy, but tight knit. It had a thin turnover lip at the top and a seam under the breasts. And it went down my midriff and lower, to tuck into my jeans.

It was a classy tube top.

And I couldn’t believe it with my bigger breasts, but it looked really cute.

Further, Tyra was right. I’d also tried on a black tank that had rectangular silver sequins stitched in an amazing design on the front, and although that wasn’t my normal thing either, it still looked fabulous.

It looked biker babe.

But biker babe chic.

I stared at myself wondering if I’d ever have the nerve to wear such a top.

Then I thought about Joker with his brunette and I wished I could afford it.

On that thought, my phone rang.

“I’m on it,” Tyra said, sitting on the shelf bench, before she dug into my purse, which was on the bench beside her.

I felt a little hand slap my thigh and looked down to see Cutter standing there, his head tipped way back, his mother’s green eyes in a face reminiscent of his father on me.

“Pretty,” he said.

Well, there was another vote.

I smiled at him. “Thanks, honey.”

“Says unknown number,” Tyra stated and I turned to her to see she had her arm extended, phone toward me.

I grabbed it, took the call, and put it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Teodoro?” a woman that sounded familiar asked.

“Yes.”

“Hold for Angie, please.”

Oh. My attorney.

I heard a click and then I heard, “Ms. Teodoro?”

“Hi, Angie. Please, it’s Carissa,” I corrected.

Or Carrie.

Or Butterfly.

But those were Joker’s.

I looked back to the tube top, thinking maybe I could afford it, if I could talk Sharon into giving me some overtime next week.

“Just wanted to touch base, tell you we got the files, and I’ve been over them. I’ll transfer you back to Leanne to set up a meeting but I wanted to ask you about breastfeeding.”

I stopped thinking about tube tops and my eyes unfocused as I gave my attention to Angie.

“Sorry?”

“Breastfeeding. There’s a note in your attorney’s file that says that Mr. Neiland refused your breast milk during his visitations with Travis and started your son on formula without discussing this with you. Is this true?”