Getting Lucky

Also by Kayla Perrin From Spice Books

CONTROL

OBSESSION

GETTING SOME

GETTING EVEN

www.spice-books.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my single girlfriends

who helped make last summer’s trip to Atlanta a blast: Sharon Wickham, La-Reine Camara-Leslie, and Karlene Millwood. Here’s hoping that the next trip has some wonderful romantic surprises in store for us!

I WADDLE INTO THE RESTAURANT AS FAST AS my swollen belly will allow, heading for our regular table, where I can see Claudia is already waiting. Though we don’t have a standing reservation, the staff at Liaisons know us and keep our favorite booth available for us every week. No matter what is going on in our lives, Lishelle, Claudia and I get together every Sunday for brunch here. It’s our chance to get caught up on what’s happened with each other during the week, and to bitch without guilt—which we do a lot.

Lishelle is not here yet, for which I am glad. I want to talk to Claudia about the latest development first, in case Lishelle hasn’t heard.

That might be too much to hope for, though, given the fact that Lishelle is a local news anchor. The news is her business, and when it’s about a famous Atlanta hip-hop artist … well, she probably already knows.

All the more reason for us to be together today, so Claudia and I can support Lishelle as she deals with this shocking development.

Judging by the expression on Claudia’s face—and the fact that she’s staring at a newspaper on the table in front of her—I am certain that she is up-to-date on the bombshell.

“Hey,” I say cheerfully as I reach the table. My hand is on my belly, which I’m amazed has changed so much in a few weeks. I am five months pregnant, and have recently begun to show in a truly visible way. Three weeks ago, I had a small bump that you could only see if you were looking at me from the side.

Now, that belly has grown exponentially, and while it’s not huge, it’s big enough to make it clear to the world that I am definitely with child. Before I was pregnant, I would see women with tiny bellies waddling and holding their stomachs, and think they were simply doing it for effect. Now, I understand. The belly holding is more of a protective gesture, one that begins shortly after you know you’re with child. The waddling, I’ve learned, is what happens when you’re carrying around extra weight in your pelvic area that your body isn’t used to.

“Annelise,” Claudia says and rises. She wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a warm hug. Then she eases back, her gaze going to my belly. “You’re bigger than you were just last week.”

“I felt the baby for the first time,” I tell her, an ear-to-ear smile breaking out on my face. “On Friday night.”

Unless you’ve been pregnant, it’s difficult to understand how amazing it is to feel a tiny life flutter inside you, and the first time I experienced it, it was the biggest thrill. I was thankful that Dom, my boyfriend, was with me when it happened. It was just a small fluttering sensation, as though a butterfly were trapped inside me. But just like the moment when I saw the ultrasound and the proof of the life growing in my belly, feeling my baby move made my pregnancy very real.

In four months, I am going to become a mother.

“You felt the baby move?” Claudia asks, her eyes lighting up.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Claudia squeals in delight then places her hand gently on my ever-growing stomach, as if hoping to catch the baby in action. “I can’t believe it. Before we know it, you’re going to have a baby.”

“I know. Amazing how things can change in a year.”

Last year, I was in the dumps when my marriage ended. My husband, Charles, was having an affair. But worse than that, I found out he was embezzling money from the Wishes Come True charity, where he’d been a member of the board. Dom was an auditor investigating the embezzlement and, long story short, we fell hard for each other. One minute, my life had been at its lowest point being married to a man who didn’t love me, and who had become the subject of a huge public scandal. The next, I was on cloud nine, never imagining that I could be this happy.

The happiness of the moment dissipates as my eyes land on the newspaper Claudia has spread on the table. “You think she knows?” I ask.

Claudia shrugs. “Maybe. Probably. She works in the news. She must have heard something at the station.”

“Then again, maybe not,” I say. “It’s not like she does the entertainment beat. And she doesn’t work weekends. So … “ I let my statement trail off as I take a seat across from Claudia, figuring my words are wishful thinking at best.

I look at the picture in the Atlanta Journal Constitution she’s been reading, upside-down from my vantage point. But I can still make out the photo and the headline: One of Atlanta’s Most Eligible Bachelors Is Off the Market.

“Then again,” Claudia begins, “even if she’s heard, it’s not like it’s a big deal. She’s over Rugged.”