by Max Monroe
I smile and laugh a little. “Surprisingly difficult, sir. It’s kind of amazing how quickly the body has to adapt to this kind of additional weight.”
Jared smiles nostalgically. “Victoria didn’t enjoy being pregnant with Caplin or Lena, but I always enjoyed the idea of it immensely. That kind of connection with your kids.” He shakes his head. “I never had to deal with the physical changes, though.”
I nod. “It’s amazing the things it makes seem impossible. Just this morning, I had to go with my slip-on loafers instead of the ones with laces.” Jared laughs, and I nod. “Couldn’t reach my damn feet.”
All manner of shell-shocked faces bounce between the two of us as we bond over my fake pregnancy in an executive-level corporate meeting.
It’s amazing what you can accomplish if you really put your mind to it—like convincing your boss it’s not weird at all to show up to a meeting with a pair of fake tits and a pregnant belly under your clothes.
Though, I have a feeling the reaction would have been altogether different if the body weren’t made of fabric and beads.
But also, it would have been entirely different if my boss weren’t Jared Hawkins. He’s a clever businessman with a weak spot for his kids. He’s made no secret of his affection for both of his children over the years, and as such, I knew he was the kind of man who could appreciate my gesture.
Sadly, I cannot say the same for the greater majority of corporate America, and that includes my late father.
Other than that, the meeting is business as usual. We talk about how it’s going in LA and the construction schedule for the new HawCom headquarters that are currently being built. We go over number projections and overexpenditures with a redistribution strategy, as well as some LA staffing recommendations and a few changes we need to make due to New York’s updated tax code. It’s exactly as it’s always been, and if it weren’t for the weight, I almost wouldn’t have realized I still had the pregnant suit on at all.
As the conference room clears, Liliana approaches me and sticks out a hand for me to shake. I take it immediately, smiling as the corner of her mouth starts to curve up.
“I have to tell you…I’m impressed,” she says softly. “You’ve always been one of the good ones around here, but I never in a million years expected you to take your gender compassion this far.”
I chuckle. “Honestly, I never expected I would either. But it’s right, and not just because it’s the right thing to do. Consider me enlightened with a way deeper appreciation for what women go through after sporting this thing for the past few days. I never would have understood if I hadn’t experienced it for myself.” I shrug. “Which is why it’s an assignment from the Lamaze class, I suppose.”
“Well, good for you,” Liliana praises. “My husband is a great guy—and he wouldn’t wear that thing to work if he had a choice between that and a vasectomy reversal. And trust me, we already have five kids as it is.”
I chuckle at that. “I’m lucky I work for Jared Hawkins.”
Liliana smiles. “We all are, but it still took guts.”
“Thanks, Lil,” I say with a squeeze of her hand. “I have to head back to my cave and do some cost-benefit analysis, but I hope to see you before I leave.”
“If I don’t, congratulations. Not sure I’ve said that yet.”
I smile. It’s the first time I’ve been given the opportunity to claim this baby as my own, and it feels fucking fantastic. “Thanks.”
We part ways and exit the room—the last two people left, seeing as all of my male coworkers beat feet a long time ago—and head to our respective offices.
I close the door behind me and consider grabbing my phone to send a text to the guys about tonight. It’s supposed to be book club slash poker night slash whatever the fuck, but I’m hoping they’ll be willing to shift the plans a little to accommodate someone else. I don’t want to leave New York without taking Rocky to meet them. Not only would they be pissed, but she could use a whole network of us in her corner. From what I’ve seen, despite a number of people on her payroll, I’m the only one she’s really got.
I take a literal load off in my desk chair and contort my body just enough to get my phone out of my jacket pocket. It’s amazing how hard everything is with this extra stuff protruding out of my front.
Instinctually, I think it’s probably a better idea to text just Kline about this. He’ll be the best at handling the rest of the clowns.
Me: Hey, man. Would you mind doing me a favor?
Kline: As long as it doesn’t involve anything illegal, I’m here for you, man.
I laugh.
Me: Nothing illegal. Though, your methods are your own business, and given the people who are involved, I can’t guarantee you won’t stoop to murder or the like.
Kline: Great. Something with Thatch and Cap.
Me: Haha. Yeah, you got it. I’m sorry, btw. But it’s important. I was hoping you could talk to the guys about tonight.
Kline: You’re not coming?
Me: No, I am. I just want to bring someone with me. The, uh, mother of my child. She could really use a support system, and for as annoying as these guys can be, it’s still the best one I know of.
His response is as reliable as the man himself.
Kline: Consider it done. I’ll make them understand. I’ll also have the ole daddy chat about them being on their best behavior.
Yeah. If there’s one guy in our group you can always count on, it’s Kline Brooks.
“Ready?” I ask before we step out of the elevator and into the hallway of Thatch’s Manhattan apartment.
“Honestly?” Rocky asks, and I nod. “I’m not sure.”
I smile softly and take her hand in both of mine. “They’re crazy. Overwhelming, inappropriate, even infuriating sometimes, but—”
“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” she questions, cutting me off with a hand to her hip.
“I’m getting to that part.” My smile deepens. “But they’re some of the best people you’ll ever meet in your life. They will have your back—no matter what. And they will never let you down. Even if you someday decide to hate my guts, you’ll be able to count on them. Once they adopt you, they won’t falter. You’ll never escape their clutches…”
She snorts, and I laugh. “But I promise, you’ll never want to. Really. They’re such great people, Rock. You’ll be glad to have them in your corner.”
“Okay, okay,” she says with a sarcastic roll of her eyes. “I believe you.”
I squeeze her hand. “Good.”
“Should I mention that you were talking them up?”
I shake my head. “Absolutely not. They’ll never let me live it down, and trust me, their egos are big enough already.”
“I feel like these reports about these men are conflicting.”
I smirk. “Now you’re getting it.”
“Is all friendship this complicated? Because I’m starting to think maybe it’s good that I don’t have much of it.”
I laugh. “I’m not sure about everyone else, but my friendships tend to be like this. It’s hard to describe how it’s worth it. Though, I guess it’s kind of like pregnancy. Morning sickness, swollen ankles, bloating, constipation, discomfort—it’s all part of the gig, right?”
She crinkles her nose and giggles. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“But you also get to feel the baby move inside you and feel a bond like no other and a whole bunch of other really amazing stuff, right?”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Friends are cool.” She reaches out with one delicate hand to rub my fake belly with a playful grin. “Just like you.”
I wink. “Exactly.”
She steps to the side as I knock on the door, and she leans against the wall. I know her feet have been killing her for the last couple weeks, so I knock a little harder. The sooner we get inside and get her off her feet, the better.
For that matter, with the fake belly weight I’m carrying illustrating her suffe
ring perfectly, the sooner we both get off of our feet, the better.
The door swings open slowly, an older woman on the other side. She swings it open, takes one look at us, and turns around without saying a word. Rocky’s eyebrows draw together as I chuckle, reaching back for her hand and stepping inside.
That must be Harriet, the housekeeper Thatch was telling us about at book club.
Rocky is hesitant, but I know this shitshow is par for the course when the Kellys are involved.
I pull her all the way down the long hallway to the kitchen, dropping her hand when we get to the end, only to give her the chance to collect herself while I step inside the mayhem first.
“Sweet Jesus, Whore-i-son, you are positively glowing,” Cap says with a grin bigger than Texas, the first to greet me as I make my debut. I turn from one side to the other, sticking my foot out in front of me in a Vogue-like pose.
I rub my stomach pointedly as Cap leads the charge in the guys’ laughter.
“Holy hell,” Thatch says with a boom as he notices my getup. “You’ve got tits.”
I laugh slightly and give an encouraging nod to Rocky as she steps up and around the corner timidly. Cap’s chortle stops midstream and turns into a choking cough as his beer goes down the wrong way. He sputters and spits and wipes at his shirt neurotically while struggling to find his voice again. When he does, it comes out a lot choppier than normal and with a little squeak. “That’s…That’s Raq-Raq-Raquel Weaver.”
An amused Ruby puts a finger under Cap’s chin and forces his mouth shut. “Shut your mouth, honeybuns. You’re starting to drool.”
“Guys, this is Rocky,” I introduce. “Rocky, these…are the guys.” I laugh as the women standing at their sides are the only ones to wave. “And their better halves in every way, their wives.”
Thatch snorts. “Suck-up.”
Cassie slams a closed fist back into his balls without delay. Rocky’s eyes widen in fear.
I can’t help but laugh. “Don’t be scared, Rock. That’s how the two of them show their love. Though, I will admit, I didn’t expect the women to be here.”
Wes nods and steps up to introduce himself. “He’s right. You’ll either get used to it or get sick of it like the rest of us. And come on…did you really think they’d hang out anywhere else while you brought home the mother of your child?” He sticks out a hand to Rocky as punctuation of his point. “Wes Lancaster. Nice to meet you.”
Obviously, he’s right. It was naïve of me to expect that the women wouldn’t be here too. And frankly, it’s probably a good thing. They’ll be a good buffer for Rocky during her first visit. Rocky steps up and takes Wes’s hand with a smile.
“Raquel Weaver.”
Wes smirks and turns to look at Cap mockingly. “Ah, gotcha. It was hard to understand Cap with the stutter.”
Winnie elbows him in the ribs at his side. “Be nice.” Then she holds out a hand of her own. “Winnie Lancaster. It’s so nice to meet you. I loved you in your movie theater commercials when we were kids. You were the cutest ever.”
Rocky laughs, teasing herself with her own line. “It’s like a big TV!”
“Yes!” Winnie shouts excitedly.
I can’t help but shake my head. “How is it possible that I had no fucking clue about any of this?”
“Too busy being a douche,” Cap says, and Ruby smacks the back of his head, correcting, “You were probably too busy with school and rugby league and living, breathing little girls to notice the ones on TV.”
Cap scowls. “How do you know so much about Whore-i-son, doll? Did you know him before me?”
Ruby rolls her eyes. “You know I only have room for you, Captain. Your personalities take up all of my time.”
Kline steps into the kitchen with a smile, a hand to the small of his wife Georgia’s back. Her cheeks are aglow with fresh blush and exertion. Clearly, the two of them have just been off getting their fix of each other. Their affection hasn’t dulled, even after all these years together.
“Welcome, Raquel,” Kline says dependably. “You’re probably going to see and hear a lot of things in this apartment tonight, but I promise, when you wake up in the morning, it’ll be like you’ve just had a bad dream.”
Thatch gives him a solid punch to the shoulder, offended, and Kline laughs, nonplussed. “They’re all harmless, but if you want a real safety net, stick with me and my wife. We’re normal.”
Cassie rolls her eyes. “Sure, Big-dick. You, the billionaire, and your wife, the original Wheorgie, are normal. Keep telling yourself that.”
Cassie shoves through the other people and sticks out her hand. “Cassie Kelly. I’m the one who keeps all these fluffers in line. You need something, come to me.”
I can’t help but shake my head with a laugh. “Tone it down, guys. Maybe if you’d all give her a second to breathe, she’d get comfortable with all of you.”
With comical synchronization, the whole group takes a giant step back. It’s like a wall of water receding.
Naturally, Rocky’s eyes widen.
I put up both my hands in a shrug and then bring them together in a golf-style clap. “Great job. Excellent listening.”
Seven out of eight billionaires respond with a middle finger, and the missing billionaire probably only defected because he’s holding a beer in one hand and a tiny pretzel in the other.
It is Kline, though, so there’s a chance he never intended a reaction anyway.
Georgia is the first to break the silent ice, and when she does, it’s to say words I just know we’ll live to regret.
“Are you guys ready for game night?”
Raquel
“There’s a giant in my pants, and the room smells like feet.”
The instant those words leave Harrison’s mouth, a very unladylike snort escapes my nose, and the rest of the room goes up in a roar of laughter.
For the last hour or so, we’ve been playing a game called Hearing Things, and I can’t deny this game that tests your lip-reading skills has been a real riot of an experience.
With the noise-canceling headphones still in place, Harrison glances around the room briefly, taking in the laughter at his expense. He simply shrugs and shakes his head before bringing his eyes back to my lips to try to translate the sentence I’ve been reading from the card in my hands—Let’s bake glitter fairy cakes and eat them.
I have to bite my lip to fight a bout of giggles from spilling past my throat.
“Damn, that’s funny,” Cassie remarks casually, putting her glass of prosecco to her lips but waiting to take a swig. “I didn’t know this game had sentences about my bedroom.”
Georgia blushes and buries her hands in her hair to cover her ears, nearly shouting, “My God, why doesn’t this game come with headphones for all of us?”
“Blame the feet smell on your sons, honey. I swear those little sweatboxes don’t even notice their own BO,” Thatch remarks in his own defense, unaffected by the rest of the group.
“Who comes up with these sentences, anyway?” Winnie asks with a laugh.
“The deranged,” Emory says.
“I’d totally do it,” Cassie remarks, to which Georgia can’t help but snort.
“Case in point.”
“Guys, guys,” Lena chides. “I think we’re breaking Rocky’s concentration.”
“She doesn’t have to concentrate,” Thatch booms. “Harrison does. And he’s got fluffing headphones on, so what do we care?”
“It’s like herding cats, isn’t it?” Ruby says, and I turn to face her with a smirk.
“I think cats might be easier.”
This, of course, confuses Harrison. “I like my hats cheesier?” he asks.
I shake my head wildly and laugh. “No, no. That’s not the sentence. I was just having a side conversation.”
“I’m Bobo the clown, and I’m in prison for vacation?” Harrison questions again, cracking up the group some more.
Finally having enough, he rips the headp
hones from his ears and sighs. “Why do I get the feeling I’m being messed with? Are you even saying real words?”
“Yes. Just…not the same ones.” I bite my lip to fight my amusement. “Everyone kept talking to me. I was just answering.”
“Everyone else needs to shut their mouths while a team is taking their turn,” Harrison says through an annoyed sigh.
“This group? Keeping their mouths shut?” Cap scoffs. “Yeah, because that really sounds like us, Whore-i-son.”
“Sorry,” I mouth and reach out to pat Harrison’s leg. Instantly, his face melts into a smile.
“No worries, Rock. It’s all just for fun, yeah?”
I nod. He jerks his head toward his friends. “No way you can take anything seriously around these clowns.”
“At least we don’t take our vacations in prison, Bobo,” Thatch says with a wink.
“Come on,” Harrison says on a roar. “You guys were fucking with me! That turn doesn’t count!”
“None of this counts,” Georgia says with a laugh. “You know Thatch and Cassie are going to claim they won in the end no matter what anyway.”
“Don’t hate the player, Georgia girl,” Thatch warns. “Hate the game.”
“I hardly think we can blame Hasbro for your and Cassie’s behavior,” Kline says wisely. “We’d have a hell of a lawsuit on our hands.”
“What, are you a lawyer now, Big-dick?” Cassie challenges.
Kline rolls his eyes while Thatch high-fives his wife.
“Good one, honey.”
“Shut it, T-bag,” she snaps back strangely, even though he’s very obviously on her side.
I lean over to Harrison’s ear and whisper. “I don’t really understand all of your friends. Especially Thatch and Cassie. They confuse me.”
“Then you’re understanding perfectly,” he corrects with a laugh. “They confuse everyone. That just means your mental health checks out. Now, the people who say they love and relate to them—those are the ones we worry about.”
