“Good. Is Amber okay? Jude said she’d been being sick.”
Neva blanched. “Jude said that? She hasn’t - ” She paused, colour coming back into her face. “She has been sick. Vomiting.”
“Is she okay?”
Neva looked like a rabbit caught and frozen in headlights.
“Are you okay?”
She shook her head, her eyes not leaving mine.
“Neva, what’s going on?” I knew that Neva would probably know that Amber and I slept together. Women talked – just like men talked, only with more detail – and there was no way that it wouldn’t have been mentioned. “Is she seeing someone else?”
“Nooooo.” She shook her head, almost too much. “No, she isn’t seeing anyone.”
I moved a little closer, figuring that Neva was definitely keeping a secret. “Then what’s going on?”
She shook her head. “I can’t say.”
“Is she okay?” Because that was the main thing.
“She’s not poorly. It’s not something that’s – bloody hell, Nate, you’re asking me something I can’t tell you.” She dropped her bag on the floor and looked flummoxed.
“She isn’t ill? But why’s she being sick?”
Pity was the next expression on Neva’s face. The woman should never play poker.
“She’s also stopped teaching hot yoga.” She bit her lips together. “There are some dots to join, Nate.”
I sat down on one of the seats in reception, everything around me feeling a little too bright.
“Is she pregnant?” I kept my voice low, not wanting anyone to overhear. “Is she pregnant, Neva?”
Neva sat down too. “I can’t say anything. But – but–” She welled up with tears.
I was okay with emotional women. My mother was a crier and a hugger. My sister had crying jags. I had two daughters – I had to be okay with emotional females. Chan had been the anomaly because she’d never been overly emotional.
“It’s okay. I’m not going to throw you to the dogs.” I leaned closer to her. “I know you don’t want to break Amber’s trust, and that’s okay. But I do want to know more. If you don’t want to tell me anything then I’ll head off now. It’s your call.” Because I kind of felt that she wanted to tell me and that was what was bothering her.
She nodded, swallowing hard and wiping away tears. “She’s pregnant. She’s working out how to tell you.”
“Is she keeping it?” I battered back the anger that she hadn’t told me herself already, trying to grasp some understanding around the fact that we weren’t together and what we’d had was just casual, or had been casual. I also got that it was her body. Her choice.
Neva shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t talk to her about it. I wanted her to tell you and I feel bad that she hasn’t. It shouldn’t be me telling you this – I’m interfering – and I don’t want to make things bad for either of you–” She pulled a tissue out of her pocket.
I was aware that we were still in the entrance to the club and while it was late on, people were mulling around. “Let’s go somewhere private. The meeting room there.” I pointed to the space just off reception where Genny would often grill journalists who came to hang around.
I picked up her bag and headed there, Neva following me, looking a combination of guilty and relieved.
I closed the door behind her and went to the water cooler to pour her a glass, passing it straight to her.
Then I swallowed, trying to find the strength to not have my own meltdown.
“Is Amber okay?” Because that was the most important thing right now.
She shrugged. “She didn’t plan on having kids, so she’s been quiet. We fell out at first, because, I suppose I was jealous. I really want children and I knew she didn’t, so it didn’t seem fair.” She sipped the water and looked at me. “She was going to talk to you about any decision. Her plan isn’t to cut you out, but I don’t know when she’s going to speak to you.”
“Do you have any idea if she wants to keep it – keep the baby?”
