Vanessa

This is normal, but Brent looks at Isley and me as if he caught us in bed. I stare at Brent, watching his questioning expression turn to disgust.

"These," Brent raised the pregnancy tests in his hand, "are for you."

I take them.

"That looks like my time to depart," Isley says, cringing at the pregnancy tests. He looks at Brent, telling him, "get your mind out of the gutter, too. I'd wear my pajamas to work if I could."

Brent shrugs. "Why don't you ...