Practice Makes Pregnant. Lois Dyer FayeЧитать онлайн книгу.
work schedule would keep him out of town for the next few days, but when he returned, he planned to change her mind. He fell asleep plotting a campaign to woo the elusive Allison.
Across town Allison was having her own difficulty sleeping. She’d had to force the words out when she told Jorge that she didn’t want anything more from him. Every instinct was screaming no as she’d said the words.
What would he say, what would he do, if he knew that their one incredible night of making love had created a child? Would he be pleased that he was going to be a father?
Not likely, she admitted bleakly. It was far more likely that he’d be annoyed and irritated that his fast-paced lifestyle was being interrupted by her pregnancy. Or worse yet, what if he demanded that she get rid of the baby?
Allison knew that she didn’t know Jorge well enough to make such an assumption, but she couldn’t escape the nagging concern. Like her father, Jorge Perez was a powerful man with a great deal of influence.
He scares me, she admitted. Her hands lay folded over her midsection, and she patted her tummy consolingly. It’s okay, little baby. Mama won’t let anything happen to you.
She drifted off to sleep, unconsciously cradling the tiny new life beneath her palms.
The baby she carried was making its presence felt in a very big way. Her body was increasingly affected by the little one growing within her. After showering on Saturday morning, she realized that she was having difficulty fastening her bra. She twisted and struggled to hook the back closure, then stood in front of the bedroom mirror, naked but for the powder-blue lace bra, and frowned at her reflection.
Her bra was too small. She turned sideways to see the hooks straining the elastic fabric below her shoulderblades, then faced the mirror again. Her breasts were fuller, overflowing the bra cups, the nipples sensitive to the chafe of silk and lace.
She turned sideways once again and smoothed a hand over her still-flat abdomen.
At least I’m not showing here.
With quick decision, she put aside her earlier plans to spend the morning doing homework for her Tuesday-night class in domestic law. Instead, she pulled on panties, jeans, a loose-knit top, and sat on the edge of the bed to tug on her boots. Then she grabbed her purse and jacket and left the apartment for a much-needed shopping trip. Fortunately for Allison, Zoe was out of town for two weeks, visiting her parents and married sister in upstate New York, otherwise, she would undoubtedly have noticed Allison’s preoccupation and demanded to know what was bothering her. Allison knew that she couldn’t fool Zoe for long and doubted that she’d even try. Her friend had the skills of a trained inquisitor.
At work on Monday, Allison decided wearing comfortable bras was an enormous help, but she was struggling with yet another side effect of her pregnancy. The urge to take a nap after lunch was overwhelming. She was so tired that she was tempted to lock her door, curl up on the comfortable carpet and fall asleep. And her normal, average appetite was suddenly enormous. Instead of downing a cup of yogurt and a banana while working at her desk, she found herself ordering in take-out from the Thai restaurant down the block. Not just one entrée, but two or three, with a side order of sticky rice.
She’d always loved Thai food, but this was ridiculous.
If she kept this up, she was going to gain a hundred pounds before the baby was born she thought, eyeing the four cardboard containers lined up on her desk. Not to mention the fact that somebody was going to start wondering why she was suddenly eating so much food. She frowned and popped a bite of chicken with peanut sauce into her mouth, chewing slowly as she contemplated the possibility. Leah gave her a very funny look when the delivery boy arrived with the food. Maybe Leah suspected?
If anyone might guess, it was Leah. Allison vividly remembered shuddering as she watched the petite receptionist spread sour pickles with peanut butter before eating them. She’d been genuinely concerned about what the odd combination might do to Leah’s stomach before the receptionist had reassured her that her obstetrician had told her that strange cravings were perfectly normal during a pregnancy.
Allison sat bolt upright in her chair, her hand holding chopsticks clutching sticky rice, bean sprouts and shrimp, frozen in midair.
Obstetrician? Ohmigod. I don’t have an obstetrician!
She dropped the chopsticks into one of the containers and pulled open a desk drawer to reach for her phone book.
She flipped through the yellow pages until she reached the physicians section with its listing of specialties, running her forefinger down the listings until she reached the name she was searching for. She circled the doctor’s name and phone number, then dialed.
Several moments later she had an appointment. Unfortunately, it was a whole week away and she’d really wanted to have an exam sooner. The prenatal care book that she’d bought over the weekend stressed the importance of early monitoring by a physician.
And vitamins, she thought. She should be taking vitamins. She glanced at the half-empty containers of Thai food and frowned. Maybe she shouldn’t be eating spicy food. She’d read that section of the book tonight.
In the meantime, though, she knew that she could do something about the vitamin issue. She wouldn’t have a prescription for prenatal vitamins until after the first visit with her doctor. But the Manhattan Multiples’ exam rooms were all stocked with vitamins, it was one of the many benefits provided to clients, so there was no reason she couldn’t start taking them immediately.
She’d borrow a bottle. And return it when she got her prescription filled.
Later that afternoon, she visited one of the examination rooms, quickly searched a cabinet, located a bottle of the mega-size vitamins, and tucked it into the white paper bag with the Thai restaurant logo printed prominently on both sides.
She pulled open the door to the hallway and looked out, relieved to find the hall empty. In her haste to exit, she bumped the heavy plastic, bag-covered bottle against the metal trash can just inside the door.
The clattering of the metal can sounded as loud as an explosion to her sensitive ears. Swiftly, she pulled the door shut and hurried off down the hall, barely drawing breath until she was safely back in her office and the bottle of vitamins tucked into the bottom of her purse.
I’m not cut out for all this sneaking around. She blotted the perspiration from her upper lip and tossed the tissue into the wastebasket beneath her desk. She would have made a really incompetent spy.
Allison glanced at the to-do list in her dayplanner, tucked it back into her purse, and dialed the phone. Moments later her yoga class was successfully switched to a prenatal group at an earlier time.
Satisfied that she’d accomplished as much as possible on her pregnancy to-do list, she pulled up the data file for the new security company and spent the next hour modifying the contract to meet the strict requirements Eloise had requested.
At last, satisfied with the wording, she hit the print button and waited for the printer to spit out the clean pages. Then she gathered them into a folder, paper clipped the appropriate signature lines and left her office.
Eloise’s office door was partially ajar, and Allison could hear her talking, although she couldn’t make out the words. She paused a moment before knocking, but didn’t hear a response so, hoping that she wasn’t interrupting Eloise and a client, tapped softly on the door panel.
“Yes?”
Eloise’s voice was distracted, slightly impatient.
Allison pushed open the door and stepped inside, glancing around the room. Eloise was alone, sitting behind her desk, a pencil tucked behind her ear and a frown on her face.
“Come in, Allison.”
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” Allison glanced quickly around the room as she crossed the carpeted floor and dropped into one of two elegant chairs facing the desk, but she saw no one other than Eloise. “I thought I heard voices, were you talking to someone?”