Gwen rolled her eyes, but I did try to look less suspicious. The bellhop looked at me and I gave him a smile, although I’m pretty sure it came off more as a grimace. He waved cheerfully as we passed. Miraculously, Ginger stayed quiet. She seemed to sense the gravity of the mission and breathed softly, only occasionally twitching.
As we crossed the marble floor toward the elevator bank, my heart nearly stopped. A security officer stood by the elevators, chatting with a guest and, because fate enjoys irony, holding the leash of a German shepherd wearing a security vest.
“Abort,” I hissed. “Abort, abort.”
“It’s too late,” Gwen whispered. “Just look normal and keep walking.”
Sure, that was easy for her to say. She wasn’t carrying a fifty-pound dog.
The shepherd’s ears perked as we got closer. Then his nose twitched. His gaze locked directly on me, the world’s least convincing pregnant woman.
Holy crap.
The dog stiffened. His handler didn’t notice, as he was talking with someone. The dog’s tail stiffened, body tense and nose working overtime.
We are so screwed.
Basia bumped into me when I stopped. “Keep walking regularly,” she whispered.
“There’s a dog right there,” I hissed.
“I know, just walk past as quickly as you can.”
The shepherd suddenly surged forward, trying to stick its nose up my crotch.
“Eeek,” I squeaked, clutching my stomach and trying to look maternal and not like someone concealing a fifty-pound fur ball under a poncho.
“Ma’am?” the handler said, grabbing the leash. “I’m so sorry about that. He’s usually great with expectant mothers, but it does tend to excite him.”
Ginger, bless her heart, stayed silent but wriggled a bit. The motion made my baby bump lurch in ways that defied biology. I just hoped the guard didn’t notice. Panic kicked into my throat.
The guard blinked. “Are you okay?”
“Me? Yes, yes, I’m fine. The…ah, baby is just kicking a bit.” Ginger, either nervous or curious about the shepherd, had started squirming. “This movement is perfectly normal,” I babbled. “She practically performs an interpretative dance each time she kicks. The baby, I mean. It’s a girl.”
The guard looked a little confused by my monologue but ordered the dog to sit next to him. The shepherd immediately obeyed. “Well, congratulations. When is she due?”
My laugh came out strangled. “Due? She’s due, ah?—”
“In two weeks,” Basia quickly finished.
“Or…sooner,” I amended as Ginger began wiggling again. “She really wants out.” I looked pointedly at Basia.
Luckily the guard just nodded. “My wife carried low, too.”
I gave him my best grimace and waddled past him. Gwen was already at the elevator mashing the button to the penthouse with all her strength, as if it might make the elevator move faster. When the doors dinged open, we tumbled inside, barely maintaining composure until the metal sealed us off from the world.
Basia broke first, wheezing with laughter. “Oh my God. Carried low. Are you kidding me?”
Gwen doubled over. “You even rubbed your stomach like you meant it, Lexi.”
“You make a very unusual pregnant woman,” Gray choked out. She couldn’t even speak, she was laughing so hard. Tears were leaking from her eyes. I tried not to be insulted that they were laughing at me.
“This was your plan, guys. I was simply trying walk normally past another dog while clutching a fifty-pound one against my stomach.”
As if knowing we were talking about her, Ginger poked her nose through a fold in the poncho. I looked down at her, and despite the absurdity of our situation, I couldn’t help smiling.
“I hope you know you’re an awful lot of trouble,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. “Furry, smelly trouble.”
