“Francesca—”
“I’ll see you around,” I manage to say, then push past him, down the stairs, and out the door.
Chapter 11
FRANCESCA
“You’re starting to annoy me,” I grouse to Cece as we walk down Fifth Avenue on our way back to Wickham.
“Only now? I thought it was when I dragged you into Pottery Barn.” She sighs dramatically. “I loved the ducky bedding. Gray and yellow. So soothing. And gender neutral since you don’t want to find out the sex. I could make something if you want. Sewing—and sex—are my superpowers.”
“Uh-huh.” We spent an hour there, and all I wanted to do was take a nap on one of the beds.
“Back to food. No raw fish or undercooked meat. No unwashed produce. No unpasteurized cheese, milk, or fruit juice. We don’t want any gross bacteria to hurt baby Cecelia.”
I grunt. “First Brogan and now you. I’m aware of the food list! I had sushi one time, and you freaked out, but itwascooked. Even Brogan said it was okay.”
She ignores me. “Raw eggs and hollandaise sauce are also off the list. Homemade cake icing, ice cream, and mayo.”
“No issue there.” I swallow down the urge to gag. “Mayo is gross.”
“No coffee. You snuck some this morning.”
“I had three sips! Three!” I throw my head back and shake my fist at the sky. “Maybe that’s why I feel violent! I need caffeine! It’s not fair!”
“No alcohol, no processed food ... hmm, so that means no fries, chips, bacon—”
“You’re vicious! Give me bacon! Come on!”
“For Cecelia—whose middle name can be Ivy—no bacon.”
“Mmm, fries from McDonald’s would be so good. With bacon.”
She takes my arm as we walk up to the entrance of our building. “Let’s get you upstairs.”
“I’m not a baby deer. I can walk by myself.” I untangle myself from her. “I need some space. Please. I’m cranky and kind of horny. It’s a weird combo.”
“But—”
“No more monitoring my coffee in the morning.” I stomp ahead of her in my three-inch stacked black Converse. “While you were in LA, I had fries. Herman had them delivered; bless his soul.”
“Get your pregnant ass inside, missy.”
“You’re pregnant?” Herman bellows, and I turn to see he’d followed us to open the door. Wearing a scarf with Santa faces on it and a red bow tie, he gives me a wide smile.
“Er, um, well ...” My eyes dart around the entrance to see if anyone else heard. I sigh. He’ll notice my growing belly soon in the coming months. “Yeah?”
“Congratulations!” He gives me a hug. “How are you feeling? If you need anything, just ring me, yeah? Or ask for Tony. He’s my nephew who works security. Hard worker. He’ll dash out if I’m not here and get you anything you’re craving. Christmas is just a few days away, so if you feel weak and need someone to do your last-minute shopping, the girl at the front desk is looking for extra work—”
“Herman ...” I glance around again, nodding and smiling at passing residents. One of them is Widow Carnes. Shit, shit. I adjust my black moto jacket over my harem pants and stand taller. She’s like themean teacher you had in school, the one who carried a ruler around and slapped your palm if you misbehaved.
“How are you, dear?” she asks, pausing as Herman opens the door for her.
“Oh, just wonderful.” I give her my biggest smile. “You?”
“Just wonderful.” She narrows her gaze. “Tell Mr.Darden I said hello.” She snubs Cece, their usual.
“Have a nice day,” I call as she walks away. I exhale slowly. I imagined that look she gave my stomach. Right?