“Dunno.” She sets her water glass down with a noisy clatter. “Suppose I could wander over to your place while you’re not home and take a dip in the pool.”
And run into Felix, Micah, and Cato? No thanks.
“Mia accidentally pooped in the pool yesterday.”
“What?”
“Right! So gross. She didn’t mean to, but when a girl’s gotta go, ya know? Fletch scooped the turd out, and Archer called someone to take care of the chemicals or whatever. But they can’t come until later today, which means our pool is currently closed. You have that massive tub in your bathroom. Fill it up and take a swim.”
“In my bathtub?”
“It’s huge, Aubree. You’re not showing adequate appreciation for the amenities in your mansion.”
“Large house.”
“Castle. Have you made a decision on the baby stuff yet?”
Number-Two clears his throat softly, tapping his watch.Hurry up, wench! Get back to work.
“About being a surrogate for Eli and Curtis? Not yet. It’s a pretty big deal, and Tim hasn’t wrapped his mind around it yet.”
“Has he said something to indicate he wouldn’t approve?”
“No. But I know his feelings. I’ll know when he’s ready to move forward… or not. I won’t rush him into it.”
“How doyoufeel about it? Do you want to carry your brother’s baby?”
In my peripherals, Number-One’s eyes narrow.
“I think…” She inhales deeply—no shitty-lungs rattle for her. “I think I would love to give them this gift. It’s entirely within my power to make his and Curtis’ dreams come true.”
“So you’re in? In theory.”
“No. Not yet. Because, although I can, and I kinda want to, growing a child inside my body is no small thing. I’ll bond with this baby. Maybe I’ll mourn it when we’re done.”
“It’s not like they’re moving to Aruba the second this is done. That baby will live and grow up fifteen minutes from your front door.”
“I know. But there’s still a lot to consider. Mentally. Emotionally. Physically. Nine months of carrying a human inside me will put a strain on my body. It may put a strain on my marriage. It’s entirely possible Tim might feel weird about being intimate while I have that baby inside me.”
I push up straight and turn toward my phone, my brows punching tight. “Has he said he’d feel weird about it?”
“No. But I?—”
“Know his feelings.”Of course. I forgot. “So you’re out?”
“I’m neither in nor out! I’m in the information collection phase. The emotion-processing phase. Eli isn’t rushing me, and I won’t rush Tim. I got married—for the second time—approximately forty-eight hours ago, so for today, and probably for this week, I intend to focus on that. When I have the capacity to do so, I’ll revisit the surrogacy stuff.”
“Which brings us full circle.” I snag a fresh bowl and spin back to Agosti, then I bring my scalpel up again and slice the man’s heart free. “You’re not coming to work this week, and you’re not focusing on the Eli thing. By your own words, you’re focusing on Tim. So… giant bathtub adventures?”
She grunts. “Maybe. My hands are itchy.”
“Uh…” I scoop Agosti’s organ clear of his chest. “Are you bragging about your financial status again?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“According to superstition, itchy palms are thought to indicate a financial windfall.”
“What’s wrong with you?”
