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“You’ve got morning sickness, haven’t you? I can tell,” she says in an annoying sing-song tone.
“What? No.” More nervous laughter escapes from my mouth. “It’s probably just something I ate.”
She doesn’t respond for a few seconds. I hear a tap running and the sound of her pressing down on the soap dispenser.
“Come on, Tessa, you don’t need to lie to me. This isn’t the first time I’ve heard you vomiting in here, you know.”
I can see her feet standing right outside the stall, like some sort of weird stalker.
I weigh my options.
I could tell her truth. Sooner or later the whole office will notice my expanding belly, after all. But I can’t let Luke learn about the baby through office rumors.
Or I could say that I just really like this new Indian place near my apartment, even though it doesn’t agree with me.
Or I could say that, no, actually I’m just a hardcore alcoholic and I drink heavily in the mornings. I’m married to the boss, after all, so it’s not like he’ll fire me for my habit.
I open my mouth but my planned lie is pushed aside by a sickening wave of nausea. It’s like I’ve completely lost control of my body.
Paula makes a saccharine, sympathetic noise. “Aww, sweetheart, I know this can’t be pleasant to go through, but once the baby comes you’ll forget all about it. Congratulations!”
She leaves, her heels clicking against the tiles and the door slamming shut behind her.
Oh, no. I can’t let this happen. She’s going to go out there and tell everyone and the news will reach Luke. I need to stop her.
I clean up as best I can in a frenzy, hoping there’s no puke on my clothes or in my hair—I’m a classy broad, you see—and dash out of the bathroom.
I scan the room frantically and finally spot her. Paula the bean-spiller. There she goes, ambling over towards the executive boardroom where—this is the point at which all the blood drains from my face—I notice that Luke is just coming out of a meeting.
She’s going to try and talk to him, probably congratulate him on the baby. What the hell, Paula?
I charge across the office, probably looking extraordinarily undignified but I don’t even care. I intercept Paula gets there, her mouth already open to talk.
“Hi Luke,” I gasp, winded. “Do you mind if we talk privately for a moment?”
He grins lasciviously, one thick eyebrow going up. “Oh, do you now?”
I grab his arm and frog-march him away.
“Thanks for that,” I hiss at him. “As if the whole office isn’t already gossiping about us.”
“I do try,” he chuckles, obviously finding it funny that I’m so tense. Maybe he’s used to being the subject of gossip, having had his face splashed across the pages of countless newspapers and magazines.
As we’re walking away, I glance behind us to see Paula looking on forlornly, sad that she’s been deprived of her chance to gossip.
It’s only a matter of time before she starts telling other people.
Luke
Tess is marching me down the corridor, her grip tight on my arm like she’s afraid I’m a prisoner who’s about to escape.
“Jesus, you’re going to leave a bruise,” I joke. “I get it, you want to talk. You don’t need to death-grip my arm.”
We arrive at an empty office and she practically shoves me in, shutting the door behind us and pulling the blinds closed too. She looks a little wild-eyed and panicked, and for the first time I drop the sarcastic act.
“What’s going on?” I ask. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Tessa keeps opening her mouth like she has something to say but then changes her mind.
I noticed that, just before she practically tackled me to the ground, a middle-aged woman had been trying to get my attention. Is this about her?
Is she jealous or something? About a plain, middle-aged woman I’ve never spoken to before in my life? What the hell’s going on?
I place my hands on her shoulders and rub her arms, trying to soothe her. “Tess, if you have something to say, come out with it. You’re starting to freak me out a little now. Seriously.”
She closes her eyes for a moment and takes a few deep breaths, her chest rising up and down with effort. She appears to come to a decision. “There’s no reason to freak out. I’m just getting a little overwhelmed with work, and I wanted to catch up with you to confirm a few things. It’s nothing serious, I promise.”
I frown, skeptical. All of this just for work stuff? Really?
Am I putting too much pressure on her? She’s taken to the job so naturally that I’ve just kind of been leaving her to it. Is that the wrong decision?
“Really,” she laughs, “you don’t need to worry. I’ve just been dealing with a whole pile of calls about this anti-competition thing with Adler and InFini. The press wants a statement from you. They’re wondering if it’s as big a deal as it all seems to be. Do you want to talk to any of them, to set investors at ease?”
