Secret Baby

“Did I mention he was rude?” Blossom comes over to me, pulling me into a hug. I hug her back because I really like her. “Give him some time,” she whispers in my ear before walking over to her brother and kissing him on the cheek and leaving us alone.

I’m not so sure that time is on our side, I think as I absently rub my belly.

Chapter Twelve

Oliver

Blossom can be an efficient shit when she wants to. The portfolio is ready the next morning. Blossom delivers it along with a half dozen donuts and a huge box of coffee. She coos over sleepy Maddie, goes through the seven properties, maps out an itinerary, and drinks half the box before I get her out of the door. Once she’s gone, I dump the coffee down the drain.

“You okay?” I ask Maddie, who is clinging to her cup of chamomile tea like it’s a lifesaver.

I learned this morning that the smell of coffee makes her nauseous, which was one of her pregnancy regrets. She used to love it. I grab the thermos of hot coffee, the remaining two donuts, and the portfolio, and lead Maddie down to the garage where the car is warmed and ready.

She settles into the passenger seat with a relieved sigh. I make a mental note to check into pregnancy massage therapists. She looks like she could use a good rub down. I’d like to be the one to give it to her, but since I can’t touch her that’s not an option. Sharing a bed with her last night almost killed me.

“What has been the hardest thing about your pregnancy?” I ask as I maneuver us out of the garage and onto the roadway. “The coffee thing? The throwing up?”

I’ve read that some women hate being pregnant and others love it. Maddie rubs her belly again. I curl my fingers around the steering wheel as my inner self howls at the unfairness of not being able to do the same. I want to know what that feels like.

“It’s not been hard, actually. I did love a cafe mocha in the morning but I don’t miss it. I can still have chocolate, which is the best part of the drink anyway. I suppose I miss being able to fit into all my nice clothes but the tradeoff is worth it, you know.” She pats herself.

Is she just rubbing it in now? At a red light, I cast her a suspicious glance. Does she know that I can’t touch her and is tormenting me? She looks particularly edible this morning. Her long hair is piled on top of her head in a sloppy bun. Small tendrils curl around her forehead, lending an almost innocent charm. She has on a pair of tight yoga pants that mold to her thighs. Her coat isn’t big enough for her to zip up so it hangs open to reveal a pink oversized tunic with black edging. She looks like a cupcake and I want to eat her up. I force my eyes back onto the road.

Last night, as I lay beside her, listening to her soft, even breathing, I made a plan. I know how to make Maddie’s body happy, but I don’t know how to make her mind and spirit happy. I know how to get her to moan and scream, but I don’t know what makes her laugh and sing. We need to get to know each other. The property hunt will serve a dual purpose. Satisfied, I was finally able to get some shut eye. Now I have to put this plan in action instead of lusting over her ripe body.

“So you’ve met Blossom. My brother is out of the country right now. He works for the government–in what capacity, none of us are absolutely sure. Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah. An older sister Cora. She’s a librarian in Orange County, which she loves and hates. She loves the books and helping people but she hates all the politics.”

“There are politics in libraries?”

“Yup, over what books go into circulation, where the money is spent, who sits on the board. She has to fundraise a lot, which she really hates.”

“I can take care of that for her.”

“What do you mean—oh—” She breaks off as the realization sets in of how much money I have.

“You tell me what her annual quota is and I’ll write out the check.” And if I have to spend every last dime of mine to get Maddie to stay with me, it’ll be money well spent. Sister is a librarian. Needs money. Easy enough. I check family off my mental list and move down to the next topic: friend.

“How’d you and Danielle meet?”

“Danielle’s a photographer. I met her on my second, or was it third shoot? Anyway, I was a newbie and I didn’t know what was going on. One of the assistants asked me to get a prop from the prop room. I opened the wrong door and walked in on two pretty famous people, um, screwing around. Danielle saved me from getting fired and blackballed by saying that I was basically legally blind without my glasses and couldn’t make out more than two blobs moving around. She led me by the hand all day long, pretending I needed help. Since I never spoke about the incident and no gossip about the two made it onto blogs and stuff, I was saved.”