Chapter Forty
Liam
The tie’s amazing. I keep 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 accept 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 prepped in Mauviel M’250C 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 prepare 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 keep 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 keeping 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 EverAfter. 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 deposits.
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 notepad as she reads some documents.
Simon, of course, is standing right next to her.
Doesn’t he have a job that doesn’t involve hovering beside my wife like a creepy 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 stepped 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 accepts 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 step 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.