Page 59 of Afterglow

I clear my throat and settle my hands in my lap. Vivian has been my boss for ten years. She hired me as her personal assistant when Latitude 45 was only a small local events firm. I eventually became the assistant coordinator for the entire Gallatin Valley before being promoted to executive coordinator for the region a few years ago. That was when the business expanded and she began consulting with corporate event firms in other states. She built this business from the ground up and she brought me along with her.

But we’re in new territory with what I’m about to tell her.

“I’m pregnant,” I say without preamble. There’s no real point in beating around the bush.

Much to my surprise, she isn’t surprised. “I thought so.”

“You did?” I say, my shock manifesting by pitching my voice far too high.

She laughs, a chiming bell sound I always thought was beautiful. It matches the coiffed, elegant woman before me with her greying hair swept back into a twist at the back of her skull and her pressed jacket, pencil skirt, and heels.

She’s smiling, which I think is a good thing. “I did. I may not have children of my own, but I can recognize the signs.”

My heartbeat falters because that right there is the crux of the matter. Vivian doesn’t have kids—this business is her baby… Her whole life. And it’s been my life too, but that’s going to change. I’m not living for my job anymore. Something much more precious will be my life now, and I don’t know exactly how that’s going to work with… well, work. But I know if I need to prioritize one over the other, being a mom is going to win.

“You’re panicking, Leanne,” Vivian says before moving to stand beside me, leaning against the desk so I have to look up at her. She reaches into my lap and takes one of my hands in hers. “But you don’t need to be.”

I give a shaky exhale and nod. “Okay.”

She lets go of my hand and asks, “Are you and the baby healthy?”

The forward movement of the subject helps me to relax. “Yes, I’m finally not having to take medication for the nausea and I’m sleeping better too.”

“Good. And do you know yet, boy or girl?” Her questions are kind and not forced, like she genuinely wants to know, and I soften into my chair.

“Not yet, I’m only sixteen weeks. We have another month before we find out.”

She smirks and the lift of her eyebrows asks the question more clearly than if she used actual words.

“His name is Bryce,” I offer, evading any kind of label for what we are because I don’t really want to get into the whole I had a one-night stand with a stranger and now we’re friends and having a baby together conversation with my boss, even if I do consider her a friend.

“Candace did mention she saw you meeting a man she didn’t recognize on your lunch break a few weeks back.” She grins wider and I duck my chin to hide my blush.

I should not be blushing at the thought of Bryce. We’re friends. Yes, he’s been extremely sweet, patient, and understanding through this whole thing. And he’s been more physically affectionate lately too. The handholding, the hugs… I even let him rub my feet last weekend when we were sitting on the couch after he brought me dinner—Whiskey Ditch as usual. But none of the touching has been overly intimate, and a nagging at the back of my mind keeps telling me he’s only here because I’m pregnant. That if I weren’t, he probably wouldn’t be around at all.

“Well,” she says, anchoring me back in the present, “I’m glad you told me. We’ll chat with HR next week. Or maybe the week after…” She pauses, tapping her finger to her chin. “I think Andrea is on leave next week. But when she’s back, she can give us an overview of the maternity leave policy and we’ll go from there. Sound good?”

“Yeah, yes. Thank you—for being supportive.”

“Of course. If this is what you want and you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.”

“I’m happy,” I say, sounding squeaky again. “I’m very happy.”

Vivian’s smile grows wider, but there’s something a little sad in her eyes. I lose sight of it when someone else walks into the office and she turns toward the door.

“Why are you very happy?” Derrik asks from the doorway. His tawny skin looks flawless against his crisp white button-down and his long fingers are wrapped around a blue Latitude 45 mug.

Vivian squeezes my hand one more time and moves to leave. “I’ll let you two chat,” she says with a wink.

Derrik is my closest friend in the office. He’s also one of two assistant coordinators for my region. His brows lift as Vivian walks past before he looks back at me. “For real, what’s going on?”

I’m so relieved over finally telling Vivian and her reaction that I respond with a gleeful “I’m pregnant.”

“Shut up! You are not?” He stalks over to look down at me where I’m sitting. His closed-cropped dark hair only brings out the coloring of his golden umber eyes as they scan me like he has thermal vision and can see the baby bopping around.

“I am,” I say, cupping my hand over the barely there bump that is finally starting to appear. It’s my favorite part of waking up each morning, looking to see if it’s grown, and it’s my favorite place to rest my hand now too. I never understood why pregnant women were always touching their stomachs, but I do now. The connection I feel with this tiny human is inexplicable; they are both a part of me and something wholly their own.

“Holy shit. Wow. Congrats, boss lady!” He grabs my hand and pulls me out of my chair and into a crushing hug. “We need to celebrate. Lunch? I want to know who the lucky baby daddy is.”