Brooklyn popped up from her chair and bustled around her desk, holding out her arms. Her sister tried to pass her the coffees. “No. I want to hold your little princess.”
Virginia handed over Paris, who was swaddled in a pale gray and pink blanket. She was wearing the white cashmere stocking cap Brooklyn had bought for her. Brooklyn tiptoed back to her chair and watched in awe as the baby slept in her arms—such a sweet face, such a beautiful bundle of love. Her heart raced. Brooklyn had so much love pent up inside her. She longed to find someone to accept it.
Virginia slid a coffee cup across the desk. “I got your favorite, weirdo. Non-fat sugar-free cinnamon mocha, double whipped cream. The barista always gives me side-eye.”
“It’s showing restraint while treating myself. And thank you. I can’t believe you had time.”
“Caffeine consumption is one of the pillars of motherhood.” Virginia sat and took a sip from her cup.
Brooklyn sucked in a deep breath. “You think I’m a good person, right? A caring person. A nurturing person.”
A deep crease formed between Virginia’s eyes. “Have you been talking to Mom?”
She and her sister were so on the same page it was ridiculous. “Yes. But just answer the question.”
“Well, yeah. You’re the one who chats up the interns and knows the janitors’ names. You somehow keep the plants in your apartment alive, even though you’re almost never there. You’re wonderful with Dallas and Paris.”
Brooklyn sat a little straighter. “Yes. See? My niece and nephew love me. And I love them more than anything.” Thinking about how much she adored those kids, she could only imagine what it might be like to have her own child. Her heart might actually burst. “It’s time for me to get serious about having a baby. We have all of this runaway success and it doesn’t make me happy. I want a life outside of work. I want a family of my own.” Brooklyn again gazed at Paris. The corners of her little rosebud mouth turned up. She was smiling in her sleep. Not only was there a distinct tug from the very center of Brooklyn’s chest, her ovaries were screaming at her to let them into the game.
“Oh, shoot. I forgot you had your doctor’s appointment this morning.”
“I need to get on it, ASAP. I’m losing eggs like crazy.”
“It did take me nearly a year to get pregnant with Paris, and I was four years younger than you are now.” Virginia nodded with the assurance of a seasoned pro.
Please don’t remind me.
“Have you thought about logistics?” she asked. “I have a friend who went to a fantastic sperm bank.”
Brooklyn grimaced, not wanting to ask what would make such a place “fantastic”. “I guess that’s my only option, right? That or adoption.”
“Well, you have no time for men. So there’s that.”
“More like they don’t have time for me.” Brooklyn sighed. “Although it would be nice if I could simply find someone to get me pregnant.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing, but nice try.”
“All I need is a guy who’s smart, kind, handsome, and generous enough to have sex with me until it happens. It’s not that much to ask, is it?”
Virginia pressed her lips together, nodding, the wheels in her pretty head turning. “That first part sounds like Alec. If only he hadn’t broken up with you and said he never wanted to see you again.”
Brooklyn froze, but that was only her body. Her mind was off to the races. Alec Trakas—six feet and two inches of rock-solid man, with thick dark hair sprinkled with silver, and buttery brown eyes. Alec was the fantasy of millions of women, and that was no exaggeration. As a co-host ofGood Day USA, he was a ratings boon. Women lined up outside their New York studio holding signs saying, “Marry me, Alec.” He and Brooklyn met at a mutual friend’s cocktail party. It had felt like a dream when he asked her out, so much so that she asked him to pinch her, which he took as a kinky sex thing she later had to explain her way out of.
It was magical for a while, but the timing had been all wrong. Posh Post was having massive growing pains. Every day was a new disaster—staffing, suppliers, fulfillment. Virginia had debilitating morning sickness, their mother was waiting for the company to fail, and although Brooklyn insisted she’d die before she let that happen, she was barely keeping it together. However much she wanted to spend her day naked in Alec’s bed, that was not going to solve her problems. So, no, Alec probably hadn’t gotten the attention a man like him deserved. But Brooklyn had also hoped he could be a grownup about it and accept that sometimes life didn’t go according to plan.
“He’s not the type to look past someone’s mistakes.” Forgiveness from Alec might be impossible to come by. Perfect people tended to hold others to their own exacting standards.
“You’re right.” Virginia leaned forward and tapped a finger on the folder on Brooklyn’s desk. “We probably only have a few minutes until the baby wakes up. The Posh Male list?”
Brooklyn was happy for the change in subject. “Yes. Let’s see what, or more specifically,who, is in here.” Posh Male was Brooklyn’s latest idea, a version of their subscription box for men. They’d spent a fortune on a mailing list of twenty thousand taste-making men all over the U.S. To launch the new box, everyone on the list would receive a complimentary shipment a week from now.
Brooklyn began scanning the names and addresses. “Is it bad that I want to see what some of these guys look like?” Still holding the baby, she flicked her finger across the trackpad of her laptop and opened Facebook.
Virginia stepped behind Brooklyn’s desk and took the helm, typing in the name. Both sisters craned their necks to see the results. “Top of the list. Carter Aaron. Baltimore, Maryland.”
“Ooh. He’s cute. And single.” Sure, the guy took an alarming number of selfies at the gym, but Brooklyn was thinking about aesthetics and gene pools right now, not vanity. “Give me another one.”
Virginia flipped past a few more pages and rattled off another name. “Ooh. Even hotter,” she declared. “I’m normally not into beards.”
