No Magic Moment

by Angel Payne

  “Is that what you want?” I, on the other hand, didn’t have to worry about the perceptive thing.

  Talia moaned. “God. That’s the problem! I don’t know what I want!” She exploded to her feet and started pacing. “I know exactly what I want regarding my career, but when those two are near me…” She stopped, exhaling hard. “Shit. They’re so…overwhelming…and they’re not even trying!” We all giggled, but she downed another shot without hesitation. “I’ll be toast if they turn it on, I can tell. But really…I don’t think they have any interest in me like that, though, so it shouldn’t be an issue.” As she plunked onto the other floor pillow, she waved her hand as if batting away a pesky fly.

  I traded a fast glance with Claire, bugging my gaze in a wordless command. Say something. Damn, damn, damn. The poor girl had no idea what she was up against.

  Claire swiveled and grabbed Talia’s knee. “Ohhhhh, sweet, sweet one. How long have you been single?”

  Talia frowned. “Little over a year. Why?”

  “And you’re still letting that asshole do a number on you?”

  Silence handcuffed the room for a moment. Everyone had suspected Gavin, Talia’s ex, of being physically abusive with her, but she’d never offered any details. Her ashen face filled in those blanks.

  “Wh-why? What do you mean?”

  Claire psshhed. “Any living, breathing person who gets within fifty feet of the three of you can see what’s going on. You’re the only one late to the party, girl.”

  Talia’s brown eyes widened. “Really?”

  “Really.” We all answered her in a chorus—before bursting into giggles.

  Fuck, yes. I instantly felt ten pounds lighter. It was so great to be with these women. So much had happened in the last few months, I’d forgotten how good a simple girls’ night could be—freedom to just have fun without heavy emotions or dangerous situations over the horizon. I was grateful to be happy and content in the company of my girls.

  All that—and tequila.

  We toasted Talia’s new job and found two more excuses for shots—Claire’s new Prada bag and the newly single status of our favorite Armani underwear model, I think—before taking a break from the Patrón for a while, thank God.

  Wow. I was so off my game. My stomach had protested the first shot before it hit my bloodstream. With the second, I intentionally spilled a bunch down my chin in order not to drink it all. On the third and hopefully last, I simply left a good portion in the shot glass. Hell. Either I was coming down with a stomach bug or my shooter days were well behind me. Michael and I only drank here and there, keeping it to an occasional beer or a wine with dinner, completely proven by my poor showing around the old cactus cooler tonight. Consolation? Claire actually looked a shade greener than me.

  Talia was really the hostess with the mostest, coming back out with hot dishes for us to snack on. Food usually settled my stomach in no time, so I made myself a little plate. Claire joined me, a perfect partner for hovering over the hummus.

  She moaned around a bite. “Shit, this is good.”

  “Talia makes it herself,” I replied. “It’s the creamiest hummus I’ve ever eaten.”

  “I’ll have to get the recipe from her.” Claire piled another spoonful onto her plate and grabbed some pita bread.

  “Good plan. I’ll bet Caroline would love th—” Against my restraint, a little belch broke free. “Oh, God. Sorry. That tequila is not sitting well with me tonight.”

  “Tell me about it,” Claire commiserated. “I’m hoping this will soak it up. I must be fighting something. I haven’t been myself for a couple of days.”

  “Gee, thanks.” I narrowed my eyes.

  She frowned. “For what?”

  “You’re the culprit who gave it to me at the office. I felt like yuck today, too.”

  She patted my hand. “Oh, Mare! I hope not. I’d feel awful.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It happens, okay? Just don’t share the PMS and we’ll be fine.”

  “I’m working on ending the PMS…at least for nine months.”

  I smiled and hugged her. “Really?”

  She pulled back, keeping our hands entwined. “Let’s not jinx it by talking about it. Besides, I want to know how it’s going with Caroline.”

  “It’s pretty amazing. But I’m trying to go slow, you know? Hey…that rhymes.” We chuckled again. I twisted to bump her shoulder. “Seriously, it’s weird. But great. And weird. I have so many questions, but I don’t want to scare her off or make her feel bad. But, God, all these things I want answers to, you know? Does that make sense?”

  “Perfect sense.” Her smile was radiant, sharing in my happiness, until it was washed away by a sudden look of alarm. As the color drained from her face, she murmured, “Sweetie, can you excuse me? I’m going to hit the ladies’ room, but I really want to talk about this more.” She held a hand against her stomach like she truly might be sick.

  “Bear…you okay?”

  “Think so,” she answered. “Hold that thought, okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll be right here.”

  I watched my sister totter off in her ridiculously high heels, slinging a gigantic purse. Some things would never change, no matter what. Claire and her bags and heels would be the top of that list. I loved her more than words and didn’t want to even think of life without her. It was amazing. A couple of years ago, I’d never thought of myself as capable of real love. These days, my inner circle of it grew more every day.

  Crazy. Now, I actually had a mother there, too. Caroline and I were getting to know each other more every day, but setting an easy pace. We had a lot of time to make up for and neither of us saw the need to cram it into a few weeks, though it was hard not to go faster. We’d quickly discovered we were a lot alike—although she had the patience of a saint, a gift I’d never really mastered. When I pointed out my shortcomings, she reacted like a real mom, promising to help me work on it.

  As for the woman who’d phoned in the part? Interesting shit, indeed. The FBI had contacted me on two separate occasions regarding Andrea, continuing to think she’d reach out to me in a desperate plea for help in one way or another, most likely for money. Her trail had run cold a few weeks ago, somewhere in Barbados, but they maintained she and Trey were still together, taking advantage of people with high-end business scams. It was never anything huge or flashy, just enough to keep them living in luxury before they cut and run again. They’d both racked up serious rap sheets. When they were caught, years behind bars were their destiny, no matter how fancy the attorney.

  I always tried to be cooperative but repeatedly told the feds that I wanted nothing to do with that woman. Even if she did contact me, I wouldn’t be rearranging my schedule for a heart-to-heart with her.

  Other priorities took precedence tonight.

  Most immediately, my need to pee.

  I rose and found Talia, asking if I could use the restroom off her bedroom. Claire was taking forever in the one off the living room, but I didn’t want to be rude and tromp through Talia’s private space.

  Talia told me where to find the light switch for her master bath. I grabbed my purse and headed that direction, shuffling for my phone on the way to check the time. Man, oh, man, I didn’t feel good. As much as I wanted to stay at the party, I wondered how early was too early for a graceful exit.

  On its way into my purse, my hand hit something, sending out a distinct crinkle. The little bag from my drug store purchase this afternoon.

  I huffed. Dismissed the idea that my new bout with the flu had anything to do with what the contents of that package were going to tell me. For chrissake, my period was only two days late. Just to prove it, I yanked out the damn box once I’d locked the door. No time like the present, right? Every test maker bragged that a girl could now pee on the stick any time.

  The box itself was marked in curly purple birthday cake letters. Why did female product makers think it necessary to evoke frosting-style Barbie at the most awkward mo
ments of a woman’s life? The tequila boosted my courage yet again, for which I was oddly—and unnecessarily—grateful. I had nothing to worry about, and now was the time to get this shit out of my mind.

  I opened the box to take out the test, only to find it encased inside a smaller box. Inside that was a fucking plastic wrapper. Christ, was this the Fort Knox pregnancy test?

  Finally, it was go time.

  Literally.

  I dropped trou, followed the instructions to the letter then balanced the stick on the edge of the vanity. Set my phone timer for five minutes, then kicked back and waited. Annnnd waited. Shit, how long was five minutes?

  I checked my email, then peered at the test. One solid line definitely appeared in the window…with the shadow of a second line starting to show beside it. Wait. What? A second line? No. It had to be a trick of the trendy lighting in Talia’s bathroom, a shadow from the edge of the test window.

  I distracted myself with text messages next. Looked like I had a prescription to pick up at the pharmacy—look who needs more birth control pills, said fate with an evil laugh—and my new favorite author was releasing a book on Tuesday. Other than that, I’d seen everything already.

  I looked at the test again.

  Shit.

  That was definitely not a shadow.

  That was a motherfucking second line.

  I fell to the closed toilet seat with a thunk. Twisted my pinkie ring hard enough to damn near tear off flesh. No sound fell from my stunned lips. My brain could only summon one word as it was.

  Shit.

  Shit.

  Shit!

  This was not part of the plans Michael and I had discussed. Sure, we’d been humping like bunnies—duh—but we’d only started playing with wedding ideas, let alone set a date. Since he’d put the ugliness of Declan aside, we’d been able to settle into a life resembling normalcy.

  So much for normal.

  I slapped one hand over the other, ordering their shaking to stop. Didn’t work so much on my thoughts. A baby. What the hell was I going to do with a baby? How had this happened? And would I ever stop asking myself such dumb-ass questions?

  I was on the pill. Foolproof.

  Well, almost.

  Sort of.

  When you didn’t let a thousand and one other things distract you from taking it on time.

  Mother. Fucker.

  I threw away the three cubic yards of trash from the test packaging, but not the test itself. Hit by weird sentiment or some strange shit like that, I wiped and wrapped the test, then stashed it in my purse.

  While washing my hands, I gave myself a once-over in the mirror. I didn’t look different. I didn’t feel different. I felt completely the same, except for the stomach bug really hitting me hard now.

  Oh…damn. It wasn’t a stomach bug now, was it?

  Son of a bitch.

  I walked back out to the living room, fighting for an air of snarky nonchalance—though I doubted anyone was taking notice anymore. Talia and Taylor buzzed around Claire, who’d returned to the sofa with an ear-to-ear grin.

  “What’s going on over here?”

  If it were possible, Claire’s smile widened. “How would you feel about being an aunt?” She thrust a pregnancy test, not much different from the one in my purse, into my hand.

  I just stared. Probably a little longer that I should’ve, judging by the giggles and jubilance that faded into tenuous silence. Clearly, the three of them wondered why I was gawking at Claire’s stick as if it was a ticking time bomb.

  “You okay?” Taylor broke the pause, turning her stare into full-bore scrutiny. “You don’t look great, woman.”

  I directed my response at Claire. “Pretty funny you should ask me this again.”

  “Why?”

  As Claire queried, I unzipped my purse and pulled out the test. “How would you feel about being an aunt?”

  Everyone’s eyes went nickel-sized, though Claire did the moment one better. Like a little bolt of lightning, she leaped into my arms. “Oh, my God! Are you serious? Were you and Michael planning this, too? Are you happy? Oh, tell me you are!”

  “Fuck, woman. Stop talking for one second so I can get a word in.” I squeezed her a little before backing up. We exchanged tests so we each had our own again. “I—I don’t know what I am. And, no, this wasn’t planned, so more than anything, I’m a little shocked. Maybe more than a little.”

  “So you were using…protection?” Talia’s face was a hopeful smile of tact.

  “Of course,” I volleyed. “I’ve been on the pill, but with everything that’s been going on”—a circular wave of a hand indicated my version of everything—“I guess I missed a few here and there.” Which had added up to a stunning here and here. “I don’t even have to ask how you’re feeling,” I continued to Claire with a smile, “and let me be the first to say how happy I am for you, sister. You two have wanted this more than anything. Killian’s going to be over the moon.”

  “He is, isn’t he?” Tears brimmed her eyes and spilled down her cheeks. “He really is.” She pulled in a deep breath. “I—just hope this one—sticks. We didn’t wait that long after the—” Pressed a hand over her mouth. “I just can’t take another—”

  “Hush,” I ordered. “Don’t even go there. Do not do this to yourself. You know what the doctors said. That all just wasn’t meant to be. This is a new beginning—so you be happy and celebrate the life you created. One step at a time. And this time…I guess we’re doing it together. Okay?”

  “Okay.” A huge smile spread across her lips.

  “Okay.” No smile for me. Crap. My brain scrambled to process the enormity of it—and couldn’t.

  “Oh, my God!” Claire popped around in her seat, channeling the vibe of a jumping bean. “I need to tell him. Kil’s going to go nuts. But, ohhhh, shit, he’s going to be so mad I drank tonight.”

  “Then don’t tell him.”

  She arched a brow. “Because you’re not going to tell Michael?”

  I was glad for the chance to glower rather than trying to fake elation. “Neither of us knew. We can’t be crazy and blame ourselves for everything. I hear plenty of that comes after the bambinos actually get here. Shit. Did I just say that?”

  She laughed a little, but preened, too—because she was right. With her Claire Stone sixth sense, she saw that guilt had nudged even me. Shit. Had I done any harm by chugging those shots? Logic took over, thank God, telling me women did way worse things before knowing they were pregnant, then carried perfectly healthy babies to term.

  Claire rose. “If you girls don’t mind, I’m going to head home. I really want to see my husband all of a sudden. I think we have some celebrating to do.”

  “Gee, you think?” Talia smirked while hurrying to the bedroom for Claire’s coat. She had mine in hand, too, and offered, “Wasn’t sure if you’d be staying or not.”

  We said our goodbyes to Claire—and I coerced a promise from her that she’d text when she got home even though Alfred was behind the wheel tonight, at Kil’s insistence. We also promised to touch base tomorrow and perhaps arrange a double date with the guys. Now that Michael and Killian were practically in business together around the new plans for the spring at Pearson’s, we’d been spending more time as a foursome.

  “I think I’ll head out, too,” I told Talia. “Just need to text Andre for a pick-up.”

  “He’s right out front, honey,” Claire called over her shoulder. “I’ll tell him you’re on your way.”

  “Thank you,” I returned, adding an exaggerated smooch sound. “And Claire?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Congratulations, sister mine. I love you.”

  “Congratulations to you, Mare-Bear. And I love you more.”

  “I think that’s impossible,” I mumbled to myself. Seeing her so happy made me completely overjoyed. I wished I could be a fly on the wall when she told Killian the good news. The miscarriage had devastated them both, but they’d clearly given it
another go as soon as they could. I sincerely prayed for their new chance. Hopefully, she’d have no complications—and in nine months, we’d both be holding new babies in our arms.

  A baby.

  My baby.

  The thought took my breath away. Ohhhh, fuck. I wasn’t ready to be a mother! I barely had my own head on straight!

  What would Michael say? I anticipated his tension, maybe even anger. He’d just started to hit a groove at Aequitas and had even mentioned moving into a place somewhere together closer to the ocean, after the wedding.

  The wedding. Oh, God.

  Would he want that bullshit with me at all now? Being a father would be such a burden already—if he even embraced it. He was so great with kids—I’d seen that much at Kil and Claire’s wedding. He’d also been forced to grow up fast and be the man of the family after his dad’s death. What if he didn’t want all this? Could I go through with an abortion?

  My stomach lurched, answering that quickly enough. I couldn’t bring myself to do that. The new life inside me had already caused huge changes. Of course, it was a living thing. I’d just have to raise it on my own.

  “Hey.” Talia held out my jacket while I slipped my arms in. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I blurted it so fast, my lie was instantly exposed. “I will be okay,” I amended. “Just a little freaked-out. Michael and I weren’t planning this like Kil and Claire, so it’s different.”

  Talia yanked me into a hug. “He’s going to be thrilled. You’ll see.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. He adores you, Margaux. The way he looks at you whenever you walk into a room?” Her eyes rolled back, communicating a swoon. “It’s all I can hope for when I finally find someone.”

  I lifted a knowing smile. “Or two someones?”

  She ignored the bait. “You’re a very lucky woman. Michael will be so happy. Trust me. I know about these things.”

  She knew about these things?

  As she gave me one more hug before seeing me off, I resisted the urge to point out that her knowledge about Fletch and Drake was still a chasm I worried about. Maybe I’d have to sit down and chat with those guys before the three of them left for Vegas.