Winning Hollywood's Goodest Girl

“Rocky, stop,” he orders with another squeeze of my knee. “I’m glad you’re coming. I can show you and the baby around all of my favorite spots. Introduce you to my crazy friends.”

“The baby can’t see from inside my stomach, Harrison.”

“No, but he can hear.”

“Pretty sure you mean she can hear,” I retort, adding to our ongoing chatter about the sex of the baby. He thinks we’re going to have a boy. I think there’s a little lady inside this big belly of mine. And, thankfully, the one thing we do agree on is that we’re going to wait until our baby’s first official birthday to find out. “How many times do we have to go over this? I mean—”

A throat clears in front of us, and both of us jerk our gazes up to the instructor. She’s smirking, standing over us and holding out Harrison’s fake pregnant belly. “Sorry to interrupt, folks. But I wonder if you might mind letting me be the one to talk for a while?”

I suck my lips into my mouth, and Harrison smirks—just a couple kids getting reprimanded by the principal. Amy smiles like she’s in on the secret, but I can almost guarantee she’s not.

I know it’s going to be like hell on earth explaining to Heidi that I’m going across the country without her, but I’m going to do it anyway. Plus, I’m pretty sure some time apart would do both of us some good these days. A little breathing room, so to speak.

Time in New York with just Harrison? Yep. Sounds like exactly what the doctor ordered.

Harrison

Thirty-four years old and I am the brand-new owner of a pair of double D breasts and an eight-month pregnancy. If only my dear old dad could see me now. No doubt, all-business Hall Hughes wouldn’t have been amused.

This is certainly the first time I’ve ever stepped inside a conference room with boobs.

For that matter, it’s the first time I’ve stepped inside a conference room in anything other than an impeccable three-piece suit with an expensive tie and cuff links worth more than some people spend on a car—and to really up the ante, it’s the first time I’m doing it since my big move to California.

Eyes turn to me with shock and skepticism, wide gazes shooting straight toward the giant pink elephant under my suit, and I’ve never felt more acutely connected to Tim Allen’s character in The Santa Clause.

It wasn’t his fault he was fattening up, and it’s not mine either. At least, not directly. But I can only imagine what my colleagues think has happened to the state of my mental stability.

“Uh…it’s really great to see you back in New York, Hughes, but mind telling us what the hell is going on?” Jared Hawkins asks, standing from his seat at the head of the table and leaning his weight into the palms of his hands on the crisp surface.

The other department heads look on with gaping mouths, but I smile.

I prepared myself for this moment and made the decision to go through with it intentionally.

Even Rocky tried to give me an out, and five years ago, I probably would have taken it and run. But now, instead, I choose to be proud of my role. Truthfully, I’m prepared to have a little fun with it.

“Well, sir,” I state and glance down at my foam breasts, “I guess it’s safe to say LA has changed me.”

Jared’s jaw makes a great escape toward the table, and deafening silence fills the room.

God, I’m so damn tempted to keep this bit going for a while—really channel what my buddies Thatch and Cap would do with this scenario—but figure it’s best if I come clean before someone gets hurt. God knows I haven’t fully adjusted to the extra twenty-five pounds of curvaceous weight that’s now strapped to my chest.

Seriously. It was a bitch trying to make my morning coffee, and it was an even bigger bitch to put on my socks.

“I’m kidding,” I say through a soft chuckle, and Jared tilts his head to the side, urging me to continue with some sort of rational explanation.

In the name of being professional, I oblige.

“Sorry for the distraction, sir, but I’ve been assigned by my Lamaze class instructor to wear this all week long so I can get a good feel for what my girlfriend…” I trail off as my eyes go wide. Holy shit, did you just say girlfriend? What the hell, dude? Quickly, I recover, clear my throat, and get back to the explanation before my mind has the time to start reeling. “The mother of my child will be going through during her pregnancy for months on end. It’s important that I keep it up, even during working hours. Otherwise, I don’t think I’ll be doing my part to get a real sense of how she feels.”