Page 14 of Daigo

Shelby grinned. "That too. The procedure has started, and oh, Tammy, it's a lot. Screening, injections, tests. Now we're going to the embryo transfer stage, and I'm scared to death."

"When is that supposed to happen?"

"As soon as Daigo gets back from his trip." She picked up her water and took a sip. "I'm scared."

"Of course you are." Tamping down the quick surge of envy, Tammy laid her hand on Shelby's. "So, here's the deal. We're going to be there for each other, and I'm going to be the kick-ass auntie who spoils the child or children rotten. Wait." She held up a hand. "What if it's triplets or quadruplets?"

Shelby shook her head. "The most I'm hoping for is two. Daigo is already freaking about the entire thing. I don't want to think about multiples and what that would do to our marriage. We're in a good place right now, and I'm hoping it stays that way. And his mother-"

"Forget about that stuck-up, prune-faced monster. She's not important."

"That's not what you said when I told you I was marrying him." Shelby pointed her spoon at Tammy. "You basically told me I was marrying the mother as well, considering how close they are."

"And I was damn wrong," Tammy argued. "You said yourself the relationship is going good with your husband and he's on board."

"Yes. So?"

"He married you against his mother's wishes, which proved to me that he's capable of defying her, and I've seen him when he's scary upset, which makes me vow never to get on his bad side. And honey, he loves you. I've seen that too." And envied it, much to her shame.

"That man will do anything for you."

Shelby searched the other girl's face closely. "Are you okay with all of this?"

"Of course I am," Tammy replied airily. "I'm over-the-moon happy for you."

"Tammy, be honest."

"I'm being honest," she insisted. "Yes. I hate your guts right now for finding Mr. Right and planning on having his beautiful children, but I can still be happy for you." A whimsical smile touched her lips. "Remember when we were sharing that crappy apartment?"

"Which one?" Shelby asked dryly.

"The one on Third and Molten Street. The one where that old hag of a landlord tried to get us to trade sex for rent."

"Mr. Bentley." Shelby burst out laughing. "He must have been a hundred years old and had this hacking cough that would not go away. He was disgusting."

"The damn roof leaked, and we had to heap on layers just to avoid getting frostbite. The heat wasn't working half the time, and in the summer, we had to stay overtime at the diner where we were waitressing to avoid being roasted in that dump." Tammy shook her head as she picked up the freshly baked roll.

"We stayed there for two years. God!" Shelby said feelingly. "We went through a hell of a lot."

"And we're still standing. We used to write down our goals. We'd be wealthy by the age of twenty-five. We would scrimp, save, and use our hard-earned money to buy lottery tickets, hoping to strike it rich."

"God had other plans for us."

"He did." Tammy's expression sobered. "Like cancer at the age of twenty-eight."

"Honey-"

"No." She shook her head and put on a bright smile. "This is happy news. We're getting rid of the old junky part of this conversation and-" She peered at her friend. "Can you drink champagne?"

"Well, I'm not pregnant yet," Shelby reminded her with a laugh. "But-"

"No buts." She lifted her hand and had the server hurrying over. "A bottle of chilled Dom, please."

The man beamed at her, dark eyes sparkling. He was finding such pleasure waiting on the two stunningly beautiful ladies. He knew who they were, of course. And the fact that they didn't put on airs like so many who came in made it wonderful to serve them.

"Dom?" Shelby lifted a brow when the man went off to fetch the champagne.

"There were times when we could barely afford a glass of lemonade," Tammy said airily with a grin. "We can more than afford one now. Hell, you can afford the whole vintage," she added with a laugh that soothed Shelby's heart. She was willing to drink an entire carton if it meant keeping the smile on her friend's face. Time for worry and speculation later.