Page 58 of Sexy Bad Boss

Epilogue

JAMES

“What are you doing? For the hundredth time, stop carrying boxes, Myra. I know it’s my favorite nickname, but you really aren’t Supergirl. At least, you shouldn’t be. Not right now.”

She places the cardboard container on top of the stack near the front door and glances over her shoulder to give me an exaggerated eye roll. “It’s towels, James. Even a pregnant woman can carry a load of towels. According to your mother, after this baby is born, half my days will be spent carrying around baskets full of laundry.”

“Yes, after.” I cross the room and wrap my arm around her shoulders and place the other hand on her stomach. It’s still flat, although she complains constantly about her waistline having disappeared. She says it’s annoying that she looks like she’s gaining weight instead of looking pregnant.

I suspect that’s partially why she started telling everyone so soon. Even the barista at the coffee shop two blocks over is aware.

I wanted to wait to spread the news; I’ve read two different books on the subject of pregnancy already, and both suggested waiting until the first trimester was over before telling anyone, since the risk of miscarriage is highest during the first three months. But Myra said it took her five years to get to this point and she wasn’t waiting a single moment longer.

The unexpected pregnancy is putting a crimp in her wedding plans, though. Every day she waffles between waiting until the baby is born and having an elaborate affair, or simply heading to the courthouse tomorrow to make it official. Speaking of…

“We need to go, sweetheart. Everyone’s waiting for us at the new house.”

Nodding, she reaches for her purse. “Do you need to stop by the office on the way?”

“Alex has it under control.”

Her lips twitch as she arches her eyebrows and I give her the same overblown eye roll she gave me a moment ago. “I’ve admitted I was wrong about him. Well, not entirely. While he’s great with clients and he finally knows how to make a decent cup of coffee, he’s still annoying as hell. It’s like working with the Energizer Bunny. It exhausts me just being around him.”

She smooths her hand over my shirt. “He’ll relax. Eventually.”

“You’ve been saying that for two months.”

“Well—” A knock on the door interrupts whatever she intended to say.

“Must be the movers.” I pull open the door and stare dumbly at the couple standing on the threshold. “Er…”

It’s the neighbors. Simon’s owners. The husband has a box in his arms and the wife is holding a pet carrier. I can see gray and black fur through the slates.

“Um, hi,” the blonde woman says. Her gaze lands on the scene behind us and her eyes widen. “Are you moving?”

I replace my arm around Myra’s shoulder as the grin I don’t bother to contain spreads from cheek to cheek. “Yes we are. To a bigger house in my brother’s neighborhood.”

“We’re expecting,” Myra blurts, her hands going to her stomach while her face lights up like Christmas.

“Congratulations,” the couple says in unison. Then they give each other uncertain glances.

“What is it?” I ask. “Is that Simon?” I want to ask if I can pet her. Maybe hold her. Maybe keep her. I’ve missed that damn cat. As perfect as my life has seemed since I finally figured out Myra’s place in it, there’s still been a small aspect missing. Who knew one could get so attached to a furry friend so quickly? Hell, it took Myra and I five years.

Okay, it took me five years. And I was always attached; I just didn’t realize it.

“Cleo,” the woman corrects, and then she shakes her head. “No, you’re right. Simon.” She glances at her husband again and he nods. Sucking in a breath, she extends her arm as if she’s handing the cat carrier to me. “Here. She’s yours.”

“What?” I stare at the cat, who’s prowling in her small crate, bumping her head against the prison door and purring.

“Barry has just accepted a promotion with his company, and we’re moving to Germany.”

“Congratulations,” Myra says.

“Thanks,” the husband replies.

“Anyway,” his wife continues, “the process of taking pets overseas is a pain…”