It’s been over a year since I’ve seen my parents. While I miss them every day, it didn’t hit me until this moment exactly how much.
A throat clears beside us. “Are you gonna let me get in there or are you going to hog her all afternoon?” My dad’s gruff voice breaks through the moment.
Pulling away, I smile up at him with his white hair, rosy cheeks, and round belly. “Hey, Dad.” He holds his arms out in invitation, and I accept it, giving him a big hug.
“Looks like you’ve got me beat, kiddo.” He pats his round belly and eyes mine. I roll my eyes and laugh at him.
“Thanks, Dad,” I deadpan.
His deep chuckle follows me through the door as I lead them in. “You know I’m only giving you a hard time, baby girl. You look beautiful.”
I beam with my dad’s compliment as we make it to the kitchen. Nate bounces down the stairs a few minutes later having changed his shirt. Once he gets close enough for me to read it, I throw my head back and let out a laugh. There’s a beer mug in the center, and around it are the words She’s pregnant . . . I’m drinking for two.
“Where did you find that?” I ask.
He smirks, clearly amused with himself. “Online.” He walks over to my mom and gives her a hug and kiss on the cheek. “How was your flight, Rose?” he asks her.
“A little bumpy over the Rockies, but otherwise good,” she responds.
He moves over and gives my dad a firm handshake. “Ken,” he says. “Want a beer?”
“Thought you’d never ask,” he replies. They set about filling their cups from the keg off in the corner, and my mom fusses over the food even though it’s done.
Jeanine and Walter, Nate’s parents, are the next to arrive, and the party is officially in full swing once Lydia, Marcus, Sean, and Scarlett walk in.
The boys play a beer chugging game out of baby bottles while the girls and I watch them and laugh. I now see where Nate gets his competitive side as Walter raises his arms in victory, telling the rest of the guys how they got schooled by an old man.
“This next one is a co-ed game,” Scarlett announces. “I saw this online and it looked hilarious. It’s called the hump game.”
Scarlett explains the rules while we stare at her in equal parts amusement and mortification. She divides us into teams and lines us up.
We attach balloons to our butts and a lot of us are already laughing. Well, all of us except for Paige who stands there with her arms folded over her chest once she realizes Sean is behind her. His shit-eating grin say it all; he’s enjoying this.
“Oh, come on, Paige. It won’t be that bad,” I tell her.
“Yeah, I’ll be gentle,” Sean says into her ear. She scoffs in disgust.
“So will I.” Nate slaps Sean on the back a few times and his eyes widen. I nearly double over I’m laughing so hard.
“Okay, on your marks, get set, go!” Scarlett shouts.
I waddle up to the chair as fast as I can, feeling the light tap of the balloon at my back. My mom is close behind me and grabs my hips as she pushes her pelvis into my butt. This has got to be quite the site and I can’t see as my eyes blur with tears. On the fourth pump, the balloon pops and I go to the back of the line.
Paige manages to pop my mom’s balloon on the first try, and she hangs her head in shame as Sean makes a beeline for her. This is the closest he’s ever gotten to her, and he’s taking full advantage. His thrusts are gentle and don’t carry near enough force to pop the air-filled object between them.
“I swear to God if you don’t hurry this along, I will castrate you,” Paige warns.
“Sorry, it’s just a habit to delay gratification.” Before she can turn around and gut him, he pops the balloon and she stomps her way toward me. The flush of her skin doesn’t escape me though.
“You’re about to take one for the team,” Nate says as he lifts Sean’s lean body off of the ground and crushes it with his. Sean dangles lifelessly as Nate manhandles him. The room erupts into laughter and I feel like I’ve done a million crunches as I brace my stomach and try to catch my breath.
After more thrusting than I can count, the balloon pops and we win.
“That wasn’t fair,” Marcus says, his voice weak from chuckling. “They used diversion techniques to cheat. How were we supposed to concentrate on our balloons when that’s going on?” He wipes the tear out of the corner of his eye.
“Don’t hate the player,” Nate responds.
Sean sits on the floor and curls up in a ball, but starts laughing as he gets up. At least he’s a good sport about his public humiliation. If anything, it’s karma for giving Paige a hard time.
“Before we dive into some cake, I know you guys are dying to know what the baby is, right?” Paige asks once we’ve all settled down.
Nate and I contemplated waiting until the baby was born to find out its gender, but the wait was killing me. With all of our close friends and family here, I thought this would be the perfect time for us to find out together.
We follow Paige out to the backyard where a large black balloon with Touchdown or Tutus printed on the front is tied to a rock. I’m vibrating with excitement as Paige hands us a knife to poke it with.
“Alright, boy or girl?” I ask Nate.
“I say . . . girl.”
“I think it’s a boy,” I tell him.
“Let’s find out.”
On the count of three we pop the piece of latex holding our secret, and blue confetti rains down on us. Everyone cheers and my heart swells with joy. Nate wraps me in his arms and places a kiss on my lips that goes on a little longer than is probably acceptable, but I don’t care. I almost lost this man twice—once when I left and again at the hands of a madman—and I’m never again taking him for granted.
After we open gifts, the boys sit out on the deck and drink while smoking cigars, and the girls and I stay inside and eat cake. Correction: I eat cake. What fun is being pregnant if you can’t indulge?
Lydia tells me about all the gross and painful parts of labor and breastfeeding. Meanwhile, I think my uterus went into hiding and my nipples shriveled up. “Sometimes ignorance is bliss,” I tell her around a forkful of sweets.
“Sorry, but if you don’t hear it from me, who else will tell you?”
“How’s the pool coming along?” I ask my mom. She launches into what shrubs and trees she planted and what kind of stone she selected around it. My parents worked hard all their lives, and it’s nice to see them enjoying life and being able to do things they want to do.
Ten minutes later I notice Paige has disappeared. “Where’d Paige go?” I ask Scarlett. She looks around and shrugs her shoulders. It’s weird for her to disappear or leave without saying something, but my mom starts asking me about what else I need to get the baby, so I let it go.
About thirty minutes later I’m in the kitchen stealing some more food when Paige walks in. “Where were you?”
“Huh? Oh, I was, uh, outside catching some fresh air.”
I turn in her direction slowly, not convinced at all by her story. Her eyes remain on the plate of food she’s fixing and refuse to meet mine. I’m not sure what she’s got going on, but she definitely doesn’t want me to know about it.
“Hey, Charlotte, I’ve got to get going, but I wanted to tell you congrats again.” Sean leans in and gives me a hug.
“Thanks for coming.”
“Sure. See you later, Paige.” His lopsided grin is aimed at her, not that she notices. She must find her food really interesting as she keeps staring at it despite the pink tint to her cheeks. By the time all of our guests leave, I’m exhausted. My feet are swollen, and I can’t quit yawning. As I lie in bed, I reflect on my life.
I walked out on my husband fifteen months ago. Eight months later I took the risk of telling Nate I was sorry and prayed he’d forgive me. Some probably look at my departure and assume it was the biggest mistake of my life, but I’d have to disagree. I have no regrets. Everything happens for a reason, and m
istake or not, that reason led me to where I am today.
The biggest risks lead to the best rewards, and as I stare at my adoring husband who’s currently rubbing my feet, I couldn’t agree more.
The End
For a sneak peek of Paige’s book, please continue.
Releasing Summer 2017.
As an extra bonus, enjoy the first two chapters from Calculated Risk too!
Please note this is unedited and subject to change.
MY HANDS SMOOTH down my navy dress before entering the elevators that will take me to my interview. I would swallow to try and soothe my dry throat, but I’m afraid even saliva will trigger my unstable stomach and cause me to vomit. To say I’m nervous is a gross understatement. A lot rides on this interview and it’s a huge step in my career for me.
I’ve been working as a financial advisor at a bank for seven years, and field progression was nowhere in sight. I busted my ass, caught on fast, and handled more accounts than any of my counterparts in the region. But I’m not an ass kisser, and that may be my downfall. I watched as people who performed worse than me got praised and promoted, making me realize this was a dead-end job.
Marcus, one of my best friend’s husband, is doing me a huge favor right now. His dad is the CEO of Bank of the States and helped me get this interview as an investment relationship manager. I’ve done as much research as I can on the duties involved, as well as the person I’d be interviewing with. Marcus got me in the building; it was up to me to get the job.
“Hello, Mr. Sanchez. It’s nice to meet you,” I murmur as the car continues its ascent. “Hi, Mr. Sanchez. Thank you so much for this interview—for meeting me—” I let out a sigh. That sounds stupid.
All too soon, the elevator stops and the doors open. I’ve got this. I can do this. I repeat these words as I make my way to the woman sitting behind the front desk. She greets me with a warm smile. “Hi, how can I help you?”
“Hi, I have an interview with Mr. Sanchez at two o’clock.”
She looks down at something on her desk before her eyes come back up to mine. “Ms. Stewart?”
“That’s me,” I say with a nervous smile.
“I’ll let him know you’re here. If you’ll have a seat over there,” she instructs as she points to some chairs behind me, “someone will be right with you.”
“Thank you.”
I just want to get this over with. My head runs through all the questions I prepared for prior to coming today, but I’m terrified my nerves will have me drawing a blank. I have the knowledge to complete the duties of the position, I’m just afraid I don’t have the experience they’re looking for. Chastising myself, I push those negative thoughts out of my mind. No sense going into an interview thinking you’re not qualified enough for it.
You’ve got this.
“Ms. Stewart,” the receptionist calls out to me. I turn to face her. “If you want to head back to the last door on the left, he’s ready for you.” Her grin is comforting, encouraging even. Like she’s wishing me luck or something, and I decide right now that I like her.
With one last breath, I raise my fist up and knock on the closed door. “Come in,” I hear from the other side.
With bright eyes and a wide smile, I open the door and walk in, but the smile is wiped right off my face the moment I see who is sitting on the other side of the desk in front of me.
Sean Riley.
Normally, I would be annoyed by his presence, but that was before I slept with him at Charlotte’s baby shower. Now, he’s completely under my skin, and not in a good way.
“Come in and have a seat.” He motions for the chair in front of him like this is no big deal. Then again, he knew I was coming and wasn’t blindsided like me.
Closing the door behind me, I take one step forward but make no move to sit down. “Where’s Mr. Sanchez?” My tone is more defensive than I intend, especially coming from someone who really needs this job.
“He had a family emergency so I’m filling in for him. Would you rather stand through the interview or sit?” He arches an eyebrow at me and my eyes narrow in response. I feel like I’m staring at a completely different person right now. Gone is the man who teases me relentlessly with his sexual jokes and bad lines. Before me is a man who is serious, put together, and in business mode. Taking slow, measured steps toward the chair, I try to wrap my mind around the two sides of him that are at complete odds with each other.
I sit down and watch him as he reads whatever paper is in his hand. I’ve never seen him in anything but casual clothing, so it’s somewhat weird to see him dressed in a suit and tie.
But he looks damn good in it.
As that thought races across my mind, his blue eyes come up to meet mine. I try desperately to cool my features, but if the twitch of his lips is any indication, he definitely notices the slight blush across my cheeks.
This has bad idea written all over it.
At Her Own Risk on Goodreads
Lydia
THE LOUD RATTLING draws attention from those around me, but I pretend I don’t see them staring and judging. Why wouldn’t they put down smooth floors in this place? The square tiles make the shopping cart vibrate and rattle uncontrollably no matter how slow I walk up and down the aisles. I place one hand on top of as many bottles as my spread-out fingers will reach while steering with the other hand to minimize the clinking noise. Unfortunately, I’m only able to touch four of the nine liquor bottles, so the stares continue as I make my way up to the cashier.
Yes, I need a cart in a liquor store.
This is what my life has come to.
But it’s not all for me. We were all assigned tasks for this weekend, and mine happened to be the liquor store run. Now I know why. As I pass a little old lady, she takes one glance at my cart and looks back up at me with a raised brow. She doesn’t have to say a word because her thoughts are written all over her pruned-up face.
Lush.
I resist rolling my eyes and give her a tight smile instead. At twenty-five years old, I like to have a little fun. So sue me. Although, looking at my yoga pants, ratty T-shirt, and messy bun, maybe she’s entitled to make her assumptions.
“Did you find everything okay?” the cashier asks as I place each bottle on the counter.
“God, I hope so. I’m not sure my liver can take more than this,” I joke. She doesn’t laugh. I keep quiet until she puts my bottles in a box, since a bag won’t work apparently, and tell her to have a nice day.
Once everything is loaded into the car, I send the girls a group text.
Me: Well, now everyone thinks I’m the town drunk.
It’s not long before they all chime in.
Charlotte: hahaha
Scarlett: It’s for a good cause!
Paige: In 24 hours you won’t care what those people were thinking of you!
Me: Yeah, yeah.
After starting the car, I put it in drive and head home.
With my sunglasses on and the top down, I bathe in the warm sun as I cruise along the street. A small smile pulls at my lips thinking about this weekend. It’s been too long since I’ve gotten out of town and had some fun. With the way my work schedule has been, I’ve had little time to breathe, let alone relax.
Pulling through the gate of the apartment complex, I make a pit stop at the mailboxes to see if I have anything important waiting for me. It’s doubtful, but you never know. I thumb through the envelopes of bills and junk before stopping on one.
Seth Lee is typed across the middle, taunting me. My cheeks heat in anger and my heart beats a little faster as my nostrils flare with each draw of air in through my nose. I know it’s just one of those dumb, generic credit card applications, but it still pisses me off. I rip it in half angrily before throwing it in the trash can nearby. You’d think enough time has passed that the mere sight of his name would have little to no effect on me, but I’m not there yet.
Balancing the box of booze on my hip, I manage to unlock the door to
my apartment before entering. A loud meow sounds at my feet.
“Hey, Spartacus,” I greet. He responds with another meow.
I set the box down before bending over to pick up my huge, orange tabby. When I say he’s huge, I mean it. I swear this cat was bred with a saber tooth tiger. When the vet is impressed with the size of his head and teeth, you know he’s big. His purr meets my ears as he nudges my chin with his head. It’s the only affection I get nowadays. “I missed you too, buddy.”
With Spartacus in my arms, I walk us to my bedroom so I can start packing. I set him on my bed, despite his protest, and retrieve my suitcase from the closet. A long sigh escapes my mouth as I look around my room like a magical elf is going to materialize and pack for me.
“Alright, we’ll start with the easy stuff first,” I mutter under my breath. Walking over to my drawers, I open the top one and pull out a handful of underwear and throw it in my bag. After I’ve got my pajamas in there, I’m back to square one with not knowing what the hell to bring. Bars and clubs aren’t my scene, so this is a little foreign to me.
My hands are on my hips while I stare at the row of clothes hanging in my closet, hoping something will jump out at me. I hear my phone ding from where I left it on the bed, so I walk over to check it and see another group message.
Scarlett: Make sure everyone is drinking plenty of water tonight. Hydration is key for tomorrow!!
I love Scarlett dearly. We’ve only known each other for about eight months, but we clicked instantly. She’s hilarious and has this drinking thing down to a science.
Me: Yes, mother.
Scarlett: You’ll thank me later. <3
Heeding her advice, I go to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water. This weekend is going to be a complete shit-show.
And I can’t wait.
Lydia
THE DRIVE DOWN to Myrtle Beach only took us about three hours, but since we left after work, we didn’t get in until eight o’clock. Fortunately, we were all ready and just needed to touch up our makeup and change our clothes.
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