Sin With Me

3

I nod, smiling. “It is. I bought Kat and Chloe one, too. Matching push presents for all of us.”

Elizabeth pats my hand, clucking like a mother hen. “Such a good friend. Hello, Katherine.” She turns to Kat and presents her cheek for a kiss. Kat obliges, and then Elizabeth hands Kat her purse as if she’s the coat-check girl in a restaurant. As Elizabeth minces away and disappears into the bathroom, Kat looks at me and rolls her eyes.

I try not to laugh. Adopting Elizabeth’s genteel accent, I say, “Dear, my shoes could use polishing when you have a moment—”

Kat elbows me in my ribs. “Shut up. And why are you the favorite? I’ve known Chloe’s parents longer!”

I sweep my hair over my shoulder. “It’s impossible to compete with perfection, darling.”

Kat makes a retching noise and tosses Elizabeth’s handbag onto a nearby chair.

Emerging from the adjacent sitting room he’s just inspected, Thomas enthusiastically claps his hands. “So! What are we drinking? Scotch? Vodka? A little gin and tonic to get the party started? We’ve got a fully stocked minibar here, ladies. It would be a sin to let it go to waste!”

Knowing Chloe’s father as well as we do, neither one of us finds it odd that his first order of business is distributing cocktails. He’s an interesting mash-up of James Bond and Al Capone—always perfectly dressed and smooth as silk, with a martini in one hand while the other fondles a loaded gun stashed in his pocket.

He might be a wealthy and well-respected attorney, but I know a carefully crafted mask when I see one.

After all, I’ve got one, too.

Kat says, “I’m good, thanks.” She glances at the small suitcase near her feet. “I want to get Chloe’s stuff ready before she gets here.” She makes her way to the bed, flops the suitcase on top of it, and then proceeds to unpack the few items of clothing inside.

Thomas looks disappointed, but shrugs. “Grace? What can I get you?”

I drop my handbag on the chair next to Elizabeth’s. I’m not sure my nerves will make it through the next few hours without fortification, so I say gratefully, “I’d love a vodka rocks. Easy on the rocks.”

He beams. “Coming up!”

As he disappears into the adjacent room, a nurse pushes Chloe through the doorway in a wheelchair. She’s wearing a blue cotton hospital gown and a pair of white ankle socks. She’s also pale, sweaty, and clutching her huge belly with one hand.

Holding her other hand, the enormous blond bulk of her fiancé, A.J., follows right alongside. Despite not being able to see even a foot in front of him because of the brain surgery he underwent last year that left him blind, there’s a distinct swagger in his walk. His grin stretches from ear to ear. His chest is puffed out like he’s about to pound on it with his fists and let rip a deafening Tarzan yell.

Look at him. He’s a proud papa already and the baby isn’t even out yet. That man is going to be an incredible father.

I quickly swipe at my eyes before anyone notices the water pooling in them.

The nurse, a curvy thirtyish brunette with alarmingly tall hair-sprayed bangs and penciled-on eyebrows, says soothingly, “Okay, Chloe, this is your maternity suite. You’ll be here for a while longer until we’re ready to go into the delivery room. Your doula will be here any moment to start timing your contractions—”

“Fuuuck!” Chloe doubles over in the wheelchair. Her face is contorted with pain.

Kat and I gasp. A.J. cries, “Angel!” and drops to his knees beside her. The nurse, who has obviously seen this all a million times before, says cheerfully, “Whoops, there’s another one!”

While Chloe groans, Kat and I rush over to her, squawking and flapping our hands like a pair of hysterical pigeons.

“Honey, what can I do for you—”

“Deep breaths, Chloe, remember your training—”

“Do you need water—”

“Did you get your epidural—”

“Should we move you to the bed—”

“I started unpacking your clothes—”

“What can we do to make you comfortable—”

“Your father’s making drinks—”

“Girls!” thunders A.J.

Kat and I instantly shut up.

More softly, he says, “Thank you.” His unfocused gaze turns to Chloe. He rests his big paw on her shoulder and gently squeezes. “Chloe, sweetheart—are you okay?”

Panting, she says between gritted teeth, “There’s a person the size of a watermelon trying to escape from my uterus. No, I’m not okay.”

Above her, the nurse shakes her head and mouths at us, She’s fine.

“Darling! Goodness!” Chloe’s mother stands outside the open bathroom door, clutching her pearls.

A.J. says, “She just had a really strong contraction, Mom.”

Another thing that melts my heart is how A.J. calls his future mother-in-law “Mom.” The man has so many layers of sweet under that scary tattooed exterior, it really gives me hope for the rest of humanity.

“I was referring to the cursing!” says Elizabeth, dismayed.

Chloe growls, “I’m in labor, Mother.”

Elizabeth sniffs. “There’s no excuse for vulgarity, dear. I was in labor for a combined total of forty-six hours with