“Di, honey…” She sat on the corner of Diana’s desk and took Diana’s face in her hands. They were warm, and she pressed her cheeks into them. “Oh God, what’s wrong? Did something happen to Betty? Deirdre?”
Diana shook her head, the words refusing to form on her tongue. If there was anyone in the world in that moment she wanted to tell, it was Margie, but how did she tell her? She hadn’t even told her about that night at the Incantata—she’d kept that bit of shocking gossip to herself. Why? Well, because she simply didn’t want to share that night with anyone. It was her night, a night she wanted to hold precious, close to her chest, where no one could pick it apart.
Except you…
“Di,” Margie murmured, “please tell me what’s got you so upset.”
Diana closed her eyes, held her breath for a moment, then let it out—along with the words she was still trying to process in her own head. “I’m pregnant.”
The hands on her face turned to ice and Margie’s body stiffened to the point Diana thought she’d petrified.
The silence in the office was only broken by the pounding of blood in her ears. Finally, she let out a ragged breath.
“Pregnant?”
Diana nodded, the tears that had been building began to spill over. “Yes.”
“I guess that means you finally punched your V card,” she said, sarcasm and a bit of “atta girl” in her voice.
Diana offered her a small smile, knowing she was trying to lighten the oppressive mood in the room.
“Oh yeah, definitely,” Diana answered, that time her smile was a little bigger, and a little lopsided. She couldn’t help but think about how well her V card had been punched—three times.
“And the father?” she asked, and Diana wasn’t surprised. Of course she’d want to know—not only was he the man she’d finally lost her virginity to, he was also the man who fathered her baby.
God, she really had turned into a contemporary romance cliché.
“He doesn’t know,” Diana replied, not ready to reveal anything just yet. She still needed time to wrap her head around it all. She had decisions to make, she had to tell her mother, she had to consider her options—What options!? You know you’re keeping that baby!
And there it was…the truth. Even though the baby was a surprise of epic proportions, there was no way she wouldn’t keep it. It was hers, a living thing that needed her protection, her love, and she would give him or her all that she could.
She was a mother. She shuddered, the thought making her heart race, the hollow just beneath her heart filling with something she couldn’t name, a warmth that lit a fire in her soul.
Margie dropped her hands and sat back, examining Diana’s tear-streaked face with an expression of patient understanding.
“Who is he, Diana?”
“David Brenner,” Diana blurted, the rush of relief followed immediately by tension. What would her friend think?
Margie’s response wasn’t what Diana expected. Rather than a gasp shock or disgust, Margie simply nodded. “Will you tell him?”
Would she tell David Brenner that the one night they’d been together, despite their use of protection, he’d impregnated her? It would probably result in a catastrophic humiliation, but it was the right thing to do, right? He was the father, though, she knew he’d probably deny it.
“Yes, but…I don’t think he’ll believe me,” she replied, the words leaving her mouth on a heavy sigh. She dropped her shoulders, leaning back in her chair. Her hand dropped to her belly, which was naturally rounded already. She traced a line between her belly button and to just beneath her breasts. That whole area would be as round as a basketball in a few months.
“Why wouldn’t he believe you? He was there. He partook in the making,” Margie retorted, her dark eyebrows arching.
“We used protection. He put on a condom each time, Margie,” she answered, and Margie rolled her eyes.
“Everyone knows those aren’t a hundred percent, and I know you don’t use birth control because you were determined to die swathed in purity and innocence.”
Diana snickered, the moment of levity welcome.
“Seriously, Di. I doubt this was a case of immaculate conception, so there is no other explanation than he has super sperm, the condoms couldn’t hold off the barrage, and your uterus welcomed the invaders with cups of hot cocoa and trays of fresh-baked cookies.”
Okay, Diana pictured that and laughed out loud at that one.
“God, Margie, I know there’s no other explanation, but that isn’t the problem. The problem is that I didn’t tell him I was a virgin—there wasn’t even blood on the sheets afterward, and he is going to naturally assume that I had sex with someone else before him, and they were the ones that got me pregnant. The man is as arrogant and egotistical as they come. There’s no way he’s going to admit to being fallible.”
Ugh. David Brenner would take one look at her, sneer at her announcement, and then slap her with a restraining order—because, obviously, she was insane.
But she’d do it anyway. She’d only known about the baby for ten minutes, but she was already determined that he or she would have the chance at a normal life. And that meant pushing her pride aside and attempting to offer David a chance to be a father.
“I know you’re probably having second thoughts about telling him, but…legally speaking, it’ll save you a lot of trouble down the line. If he were to discover you’d had his baby and hadn’t told him, he could force a custody suit on you—”
“But didn’t he just win a suit against Rinna Masterson?” Diana didn’t know why she was arguing with Margie, since they were on the same side.
Margie snorted. “Rinna Masterson is a piece of work. The only reason she had her own ass handed to her was because she lied about being pregnant to milk David for money. It’s all over the news. I’m sure they even know about it on the International Space
