I reached out to Dr. Brookes, and he offered to prescribe something, but it turns out I'm one of the unlucky few that it doesn’t work for. To say I’m feeling rough would be a gross understatement.
“You need to go home.”
Looking up from my computer, I see Keir standing just inside the door, concern etched onto his face.
“I’m good. I have to finish up the payroll,” I tell him, trying to act like I’m not battling the urge to sleep right here at my desk.
“You look like shit,” he announces.
“Well, isn’t that nice to hear?” I joke, but he doesn’t buy it. The downfall of my boss being one of my best friends is that he can see straight through my bullshit.
“Go home. Get some rest. We’ll manage without you,” he says gently, not pressing me to tell him what’s wrong. The thing is, I don’t want to go home. I can’t hide from the loneliness there. I like being here, having people around.
“I’ll go after I get done with this.” I give in, not telling him that I really have no intention of leaving anytime soon. I know he sees through me, though. I wait for him to push me, and I can see him trying to decide if today is the day he makes me talk to him.
“You’re not alone. You know that, right?” Keir says softly. “You have us. We're your family, and we love you.” I feel my sinuses sting at his words. “You have our support in whatever way you need it, whenever you’re ready to ask for it. Just do me a favor?” he asks, reaching across my desk to put his hand over mine, giving me a gentle squeeze. “Tell Pop before she works it out.” His eyes drop to my stomach which has just started to protrude slightly over the last few days.
I’m not surprised Keir worked it out. I’ve managed to avoid spending much time with Poppy and Elliott, but there’s no escaping how much time I spend here at work. With how tired I’ve been, the sickness, and now my tiny bump, it’s a miracle he didn’t work it out sooner.
“She’ll be hurt you kept it from her, but you’re her best friend, and she’ll get over it.”
“I’ll tell her and Elliott soon. I promise.”
“Congratulations. You’re going to make a fantastic mom.” He grins at me, and I lose the battle with my tears. They fall over my lashes and coat my cheeks as Keir moves around my desk to give me a hug. He’s right, as always. I need to tell my friends, the only real family I have, what’s going on. Keeping it locked up isn’t doing me any favors.
“You really think so?” I ask, voicing a concern I’ve been trying not to face.
“I know it.” He lets me go, grabbing some tissues from the holder on my desk so I can clean up my face.
“You need to stop isolating yourself. It’s not good for either of you. Go home and sleep. We’ll pick you up at seven tonight.”
I’d totally forgotten that I made plans for dinner tonight with everyone for Elliott’s birthday. Pregnancy has turned my brain to mush. As much as I want to bail, I know I can’t do that to my friend.
***
Standing in front of my full-length mirror, I regret agreeing to going out tonight.
I don’t look pregnant, but I don’t look like myself either. My body is changing so fast it amazes me every day. My boobs are huge, for starters. None of my usual tops fit properly anymore, and if I turn up with miles of cleavage on show, my friends will know something is up. And don’t even get me started on jeans; none of them button up anymore. Dresses are out of the question since the only ones I own are skin-tight, and there’s no hiding my small bump.
I’ve had to settle on a pair of stretchy leather-look trousers and a loose-fitting white T with small black details. Throwing on some plain black strappy heels and a leather jacket, I tell myself that will have to do. My dark hair is down, and I even made the effort to curl the ends. It’s the most effort I’ve made in weeks, and I feel better for it already. I just hope I’m not underdressed.
I’m just finishing up transferring everything I need from my everyday purse to a smaller clutch when the buzzer to my apartment sounds. Making sure my door is locked, I make my way downstairs to where Keir has their car parked at the curb. Always the gentleman, he gets out when he sees me and opens the rear door, helping me get in.
“That outfit is hot,” Poppy tells me, not bothering to say hello. I’m happy to see she’s dressed in something similar enough. Dark skinny jeans and a cute shirt. “Or I should say, you look hot in it.”
“You’re good for my ego.” I laugh, buckling my seatbelt as Keir waits to pull out into the busy evening traffic. Poppy and I get lost in small talk as Keir focuses on driving. We talk about the boys who are spending the night with Keir’s parents, and some new classes we’re thinking of adding to the schedule at the gym. It’s nice to spend time with her, just chatting about nothing important. It’s also a reminder that I need to hurry up and tell her I’m pregnant, so I can stop being such a shitty friend.
We’re so busy catching up that I don’t notice Keir has parked the car. Looking around, I don’t recognize where we are. “I thought we were going to Marco’s?” I ask as we all climb out of the car and stand on the sidewalk.
“We are, after.”
“After what?”
“After we meet the guys here,” Poppy says, flinging her arm out toward the shop we’re standing in front of.
Inkcognito.
The fancy gold letting stands out in stark relief against the black background of the sign, hanging above the window. There’s a smaller banner spread underneath that declares ‘Grand Opening.’ in bold lettering.
“I have no idea what’s going on. Is someone getting a tattoo?”
“If you ever bothered to read your emails, you would have seen the invitation I accepted on your behalf,” Poppy says.
That familiar sinking feeling hits me as we step inside the shop. There are people everywhere, most with drinks in hand. There’s even a DJ set up in a corner, playing music.
I spot Elliott and Duke toward the back of the room, TJ and Breeze standing nearby. Hayden is here too, and I’m reminded that it’s been too long since we’ve spoken. He’s always busy with shifts at the firehouse, and lately I’ve been busy avoiding all the important people in my life. As usual, he’s found a group of women to flirt with, and he doesn’t even notice we've arrived.
Looking around, I wrack my brain trying to think of who I know that would invite all of us to a place like this. TJ, Hayden, and Duke all have tattoos, but the rest of us don’t as far as I know. My eyes take in the space. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in a tattoo studio, but it’s not what I would have thought. The walls are a clean, crisp white, decorated with huge black and white photographs. The pictures are super close-ups of bare tattooed skin. It shouldn’t look as classy as it somehow does. Why do I feel like I’ve seen something similar before?
There’s a sleek black reception desk and seating area at the front, and each side of the room has two tattoo stations. Everything looks clean and fresh. At the back of the room there’s a hallway that I can’t see down from here.
“This place looks amazing,” Poppy announces as we make it to where the guys are standing, drinks in hand.