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Page 78 of The Doomsday Conspiracy

“But what?” She picked up my wine glass and put it in my hand again. “Drink. You’ll feel better.” She gulped her wine, eyeing me as I bit my lip and looked at the half-eaten burger in the wrapper on my knee. “Drink, Em. What’s wrong?”

I hesitated, my chest so constricted I thought I was having an asthma attack, and I didn’t have asthma. Telling my best friend I screwed up was probably harder than telling my own parents, mostly because I still cared what she thought.

“Why aren’t you drinking? You love this brand of wine.”

I looked up at her and sighed. “I can’t.”

“Why? Are you on something else? Medication? You are sick?”

“No, Char, I can’t drink with you because I’m pregnant.” I set the glass down, ready for the lecture.

“Shut up!” Her eyes grew wide, eyebrows so high they almost touched her hairline. “You’re serious? This isn’t a joke?”

I shrugged again. “Dead serious.”

She downed her full glass of wine and set it on the table, laying the cheeseburger next to it. “And he dumped you over that?” She clicked her tongue. “Girl, you can sue. You don't have to put up with this. That man has a responsibility to his?—”

“No!” I took a deep breath and huffed it out. “No, I’m not suing. And no, he didn’t dump me over it.”

“Then why did he dump you?” She looked confused, and I felt to blame for that. Every boy I’d ever gotten dumped by—which were very few—had left me in a downward spiral of watchingDirty Dancingon repeat for weeks. It was only natural for her to assume he dumped me based on my movie choice.

“He didn’t dump me, Char.”

“Why are you watchingDirty Dancingthen?” Charlotte took my glass of wine and sipped it. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t going to partake.

The couch squeaked as I shifted my weight. I laid the burger on the table and curled my knees into my chest. “When I asked him about having a family, he said he didn’t see himself as a father.”

“Oh, my God, you haven’t told him? How long have you known?”

“A few weeks.” I felt tears welling up in my eyes as I squeezed my legs. With my chin firmly planted on my knee, I said, “I don’t know how to tell him. What if he’s angry? What if he thinks I’m out for his money, or that I did this on purpose? God, Char, I was so excited about finally meeting a man who was interested in me and with whom I am seriously compatible. I wasn’t thinking. We had sex so many times in his office and never used protection.”

“So you know it’s his?” She unfolded the wrapper on her burger and continued eating, chewing loudly.

“Yes, of course it’s his. I haven’t had sex with anyone else since I came to the city.” Tucking my head down, I let the tears fall. Daniel meant so much to me. I didn’t know how I’d do this without him. Sure, I could get a different job, make a living, support myself, but adding a baby to the mix would be difficult. How would I save enough money to pay the bills while I was off work for weeks on maternity leave? And how would I afford childcare I could trust?

“God, you need to tell him. Emily, this is no joke. You need proper prenatal care, screening… How are you going to afford that? Unless you have an?—”

“No. I’m not aborting my baby.” I gritted my teeth and looked up at her. It would be the first thing my parents demanded of me. I couldn’t believe my own best friend would suggest it.

“Okay,” she said, dropping the burger and holding her hands up defensively. “I’ll never say it again. I’m just telling you if you don’t tell him, you’re going to really struggle. Babies are expensive.”

“I know…” I mumbled, tucking my chin again. Babies cost a lot of money, but the cost wasn’t just financial. Having this baby might just cost me my relationship. But one thing was for certain. Even if Dan didn’t want the baby, I was keeping it. No one would change my mind about that.

18

DANIEL

After several meetings, I realized that my morning coffee had never arrived on my desk as usual. For the past two weeks, ever since Michael embarrassed Emily, I’d had nothing but long workdays and exhausting business dinners. I knew Emily was disappointed. She’d been down and noncommunicative. I felt bad that she had been nudged to the periphery, but sometimes, work got like this and there was nothing I could do to change that.

I’d just hung up the call with Wexler and Main, a competing firm now joining us in a class-action suit over privacy concerns with a tech giant, and my head was throbbing. If I didn’t get caffeine soon, I would have a blinding headache that wouldn’t go away. I pressed the intercom button on my phone, the chime ringing out. “Emily, could I get my coffee, please?”

A few seconds passed and she didn’t respond, so I pushed the button again. “Emily? My coffee, please?” I gave her the benefit of the doubt that maybe she was on a call or something, but when she didn’t respond the second time, I dialed her extension. She didn’t pick up.

Frustrated, I stood and strolled over to my office door, pulling it open. I looked out at her desk to find it was empty.Her chair was pushed in, the computer screen dark, not turned on today. Her purse wasn’t on the shelf beneath the desk, and there was no sweater draped over the back of the chair, which confused me. I glanced at my watch. It was past eight a.m. She should have been in hours ago.

Emily hadn’t called to let me know she wasn’t coming in, and I hadn’t heard from Olivia either, so I headed to Olivia’s office. When I peeked in the window, I noticed she was on a call, so I knocked quietly. After a few minutes, her voice called out, “Come in.” I pushed the door open and stood in the doorway.

“Hey, did Emily call you? She’s not at her desk.” I leaned on the door jamb, keeping my hand on the doorknob.


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