Liam The tie’s amazing. I ke ep touching it. But at the same time, I seethe all morning long.
I’m glad Olivia felt better when she left, but hate that it was Simon who brought that
ginger. Probably non-organic, cheap ginger made using even cheaper sugar. He purposely
angled himself away from my wife, then gave me that superior smirk before getting in the
car and leaving with her. If she’d just acc ept a female driver...! But no, she said it was
ostentatious and wasteful, not to mention stressful, and I had to give up on the idea. Still,
seeing Simon drive her every morning is like a splinter under my nail—not fatal, but
irritating as hell. “What’s your deal?” Emmie asks. “You’ve been smiling and glaring at
everyone since you walked in. Mixed signals aren’t good for morale.” “Have you ever been
pregnant?” She laughs. “Is this a joke? Of course not.” I sigh. “Then you wouldn’t
understand.” “Oh, and you would?” She lifts an eyebrow. “Yes. Vicariously through my
wife.” “She’s pregnant?” I nod with a scowl. “Is... this not a good thing?” Emmie says slowly.
“Not if she’s puking all day.” “Oh, that?” She shrugs. “Lots of women go through it. It gets
better, though. There’s a reason we gain a lot of weight and end up glowing.” Olivia glowing
with the baby growing in her womb... She’ll look amazing. But first, she really needs to stop
throwing up all the time. “Lemon and ginger are supposed to help,” Emmie says. “Try that.”
I make a face. Simon already brought ginger, but maybe I can get her a better variety.
Homemade and one hundred percent pure. –Me: Frederich, I need crystallized ginger
slices. Organic, non-GMO ginger and sugar only. –Frederich: Sliced with a Yoshimi Kato and
pr epped in Mauviel M’250 C copper pots? That sounds like some kind of top-secret code, but
if Frederich’s bringing it up... –Me: Yes. If that makes it better. –Frederich: Shall I also
pr epare a lemon and honey tea with the Manuka MGO 1000+? Organic, non-GMO and, of
course, perfect? His dry tone comes through loud and clear. The man needs to learn to
insert a smiley-emoji or two to soften his text. –Me: Yes, if it helps with morning sickness.
Use whatever’s premium. The best. No expense spared. –Frederich: Naturally. Leave it to
me, your servant’s servant. I shall squander your entire annual food budget. I snort.
–Frederich: I’ll leave everything on the counter when I’m done. –Me: No, message me. I’m
going to take it to Olivia. –Frederich: But you’re going to see her tonight. –Me: It’s
time-sensitive. Needs to be done before tonight! I want to give her the items to make her
feel better as soon as possible. She’s my wife, carrying my baby. It might seem
unreasonable, but irrelevant people shouldn’t be providing for her. It should be me. “Are
you feeling better now?” Emmie asks in a cool tone. “Can we have a meeting without
making everyone nervous that they’ll be asked to disembowel themselves if next season’s
designs don’t meet your expectations?” I frown. “I’ve felt fine all morning. And you’re
exaggerating. But yes, let’s do the meeting.”
Despite her worries, I don’t make anyone cry or fall into some Dantean pit of despair. The
meeting ends on a high note, with me discovering a particularly lovely design I intend to get
for Olivia on Mother’s Day. By the time the meeting’s over, I have a message from
Frederich: All done. –Me: That fast? Don’t you have to ke ep the ginger in sugar and stuff for
a while? –Frederich: I operate with my own special magic. –Me: Imagine me squinting at
you. I’m not giving my wife half-assed stuff. –Frederich: Actually, I began making it earlier
this week because I noticed Olivia wasn’t feeling well. It was all that my wife could tolerate
when she was expecting. I grin at his thoughtfulness. He definitely deserves a fat bonus this
Christmas. –Me: You’re the man. –Frederich: As I have attempted to tell you many times.
I’ve already sent everything to your office. You should be receiving it any moment. Just then
Emmie walks in with a special courier package. “Here. For you.” Yes! I knew Frederich
would come through. I look through the package. The crystallized ginger slices are in a
pretty hexagonal lavender jar with a dark royal blue ribbon wrapped around the top. The lid
is airtight, perfect for ke eping the ginger slices fresh, with a packet of desiccant sitting at
the bottom. The tea is golden with lemon slices buried under thick honey. The clear jar has
the vacuum pop-up lid so Olivia doesn’t have to strain to open it every time she wants to
enjoy something soothing. A silver spoon tipped with a tiny diamond is tied snugly to the
jar. I place everything in a glossy paper bag and start to head out. “Where are you going?”
Emmie says. “You have a call.” Oh, that’s right. Shit. Normally I’d attend, but it isn’t
something I need to sit in. “Get Mike to do it.” “He’s already on another call.” “Then have
him delegate it.”
“But... You always like to be in charge of every detail.” “Mmm. Well, it’s about time I let
other people take on more responsibilities.” Emmie stares at me like I’ve lost my mind, but I
don’t care. Nothing’s going to derail my plan. It’s only about eleven, and the drive to
Olivia’s office is mercifully free of crushing traffic. I park and walk into Ever After. I’ve never
been inside the building before. Interestingly enough, the place doesn’t have a sign or
anything. And for a wedding-planning company, it lacks that festive bridal feel. I shrug.
Maybe this is just where the clients come to sign contracts and pay d eposits. I imagine what
her reaction will be when Olivia sees me. She probably can’t even have lunch, so this is
what I can do to ease her pain. If she complains that I’m slacking off at work, I’ll just tell her
I’m doing it for the baby. She softens every time I bring up our child. The door to her office
is open. She’s at her desk, tapping a finger against a sticky not epad as she reads some
documents. Simon, of course, is standing right next to her. Doesn’t he have a job that
doesn’t in volve hovering beside my wife like a cre epy stalker? No matter how open-minded
I try to be, I just can’t bring myself to like the guy. Doesn’t matter. My rings sparkle on her
hands. I tighten my grip around the bag, feel the weight of the jars, and imagine my wife’s
face bright with joy when she receives them. “Hey.” I smile. Olivia looks up from the papers.
“Hi, handsome. What a great-looking tie!” “Yeah, it was the weirdest thing... A beautiful
woman gave it to me this morning.” I stroke it with pride. “Makes me look a thousand times
more handsome.” She laughs. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were coming
over.” She suddenly looks worried. “Are we scheduled for a lunch date?” “Nope. Just
wanted to stop by with a little something for you.” “What is it?” Excitement sparks in her
eyes as she comes over. Simon looks at me like I just st epped on his best toy car. “Ta-da!” I
hand her the bag, then shoot him a smug look over her head. “It’s a little heavy.”
“I can feel that.” She acc epts the bag and opens it, then pulls out each jar. “Ohh... Are these
homemade?” I nod. “With love.” Instructing Frederich counts. “Thank you!” She glows and
places them on the shelf next to her desk, pushing Simon’s store-bought tin to the back.
Simon turns white. I return the smirk from the morning. “But I still think you should take
some time off instead of fighting morning sickness with, you know... plants,” I say. She
sighs, then walks back to me and stops when she’s only an inch away. She tilts her head up,
her eyes like an endless blue sky. “You know what works better than ginger and time off?”
“What?” I say gruffly, my hands in my pockets. “A hug from you.” She wraps her arms
around me before I can move, then buries her face in my chest. “You smell so good. The
best morning sickness cure.” I return the hug tightly. “Want me to just hang out with you all
the time?” “Who’ll run Kingswood Stones & Designs?” “I can delegate. My people are
perfectly capable.” She wrinkles her nose. “No. I like it that my husband is a hot CEO.” She
looks up at me. “With the vision to make everyone’s romantic ideas come true.” I tenderly
brush a few stray strands from her face. “Don’t work too hard.” “I won’t. I promise.”
“Lunch?” She shakes her head. “Ugh, no. I might try some saltines later if I can stomach
them.” I shoot a pointed look at Simon. Is he going to get her saltines too? “He’s going to
lunch, of course. I’m not that mean,” Olivia says, obviously misinterpreting my expression. I
kiss her. “See you tonight.” She nods, and I walk out, ignoring the weight of Simon’s eyes
on my back. Know your fucking place, Simon. I head out of the office, then stop. In the
display window across the street is a mannequin with a pregnant bump and a little baby in a
crib, all of
them properly set and dressed. The sign over it says Button & Bloom. It’s a little store that
specializes in maternity and baby items. Huh. I cross the street and st ep inside. A smiling
thirtyish Asian woman with a sleek bob greets me. “Hi, welcome to Button & Bloom. I’m
Sue. Can I help you?” “Just looking around. When did this place open? I haven’t seen it
before.” She blinks, then laughs. “Actually, it’s been around for at least a couple of years.
That’s how long I’ve been working here, anyway.” “Oh. Uh...” “It’s okay. Is this your first
child or something? Most men don’t notice before then.” “Yeah, our first kid,” I say,
scratching the tip of my nose. “How far along is your wife?” “About eight weeks.” She
smiles. “Early to be buying, but the time does fly.” “Exactly.” I should book a photographer
to document the changes in Olivia’s body now that I think about it. That way we can look
back and remember the miracle we created together. “Mind if I look around?” “Not at all.
Just holler if you need any help.” A mind-numbing number of designs and colors bombard
me in the onesies section. Since Olivia and I don’t know the gender yet, we should get
something neutral, but a cream and purple onesie that says DADDY’S PRINCESS catches
my eye. If it’s a girl, I can get her a tiara, too. How cute would it be to have a little
black-haired baby with Olivia’s eyes, wearing a princess tiara and a cute purple onesie? My
heart pangs with sweet ache. I press a fist over my chest. “These two are probably the best.
It’s a boy, so blue and navy.” Brielle? I turn my head. My eyes collide with the woman I
never wanted to see again in my life.