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I tug her attention back to me. “Oh, baby. You’re the least selfish person I know. You put everyone before yourself, even the spoiled brats you work with. You’re so protective of them. You’re giving and kind and selfless, Sandra. So fucking selfless.”
“You think I’d be a good mom?”
I place a kiss on her nose and bring her to my lap, wrapping my arms around her. “I’m not just saying this, baby. But, yes, you’d be the most protective and fierce mother there is. The way you are with Cami and her girls—multiply that by a million, and it’s the kind of mother you’d be.”
“I’d be a real bitch to those that pointed out our child’s faults, knowing full well they were right, but I’d still tell them to fuck off.”
Our child.
I hold in my laugh. “You would, and I’d be right next to you saying the same thing.”
I kiss down her neck. “I’ll support you, Sandra, and I’m sure I don’t have to say what I want. The second I saw you, knowing my baby is inside of you, I swear to the fucking heavens, you became even more perfect.”
She stifles a laugh. “Yeah, no pressure at all, right?”
“I’m serious. I’m with you, one hundred percent. Would you just promise me you’ll think on it, for now?”
She squeezes my hand and pulls me closer to her face. “Yeah. I promise.”
thirty-one
SANDRA
Knowing the reason why I’m running to the toilet fifteen times a day to vomit isn’t the comfort I thought it would be, not when I’m wiping the second coming of ginger snaps from my lips.
“I got off the phone with your doctor friend, Rosso. She’s calling in a prescription for anti-nausea medicine. I’ll run to the pharmacy across the street and take Otis for a walk, all at the same time.”
This man. Fuck me. He’s so great. How can I say no to his dream, especially when part of him is growing inside of me?
“Dom?” I cry out as I lie on the cool tile of the bathroom floor.
“I got you, baby. Come on, let me take you back to bed. And we’ll get this vomiting to stop.”
Why couldn’t my pregnancy be like Cami’s? A little nausea, puking once early on, and then snap, it was over.
“The baby already hates me.” I cry again. And I’m not a fucking crier. “It’s taking over my body. I don’t cry. Why am I crying? And is the medicine safe for the baby?”
His hands massage my shoulders. “It’s okay, San. You’re going to be okay. We need to stop the vomiting. Dehydration isn’t good for you or the baby.”
What am I doing? I never called the clinic, like I thought I would. The need to protect this little life in me is messing with me and what I thought I wanted.
“Anya is rather protective of you; I hope you know. I can’t imagine she’d do something that would hurt the baby.”
I begin crying again. “But a day ago, I didn’t care about him or her, and now—” I cover my head with a pillow. I don’t want Dom to see me breaking down.
“Rosso, no decision has to be made right now. Let’s just get you better, and we’ll figure it out.”
He places a bottled water on the end table nearest my side of the bed, along with my phone. “Call me if you need anything. And I’ll be back in twenty minutes, baby.”
Why did I have to find such a decent and stand-up guy to fall in love with?
After a week,my morning sickness has eased up a little, and I return to work. My cell phone rings, but I can’t get to it. I have a press release I’m working on. The game goes to retailers in a week, on Black Friday, the busiest shopping day in the United States.
It rings again, and then again, and I pick it up. Sherman Hennessy’s name is on my screen.
“Old man Hennessy, what’s up?” I answer.
“I sent you documents my private investigator unearthed, and it’s the smoking gun we need. I’d come over and speak withMatthias, but I’m in California. I’m on the first flight home, but I need you, Sandra. I need you to find Matthias and break the news to him. I’m sorry I’m putting this on you, just days before the game is set to hit retailers.”
