Ridiculous.
“Listen, I know you didn’t want me to put out an official statement over the weekend to bring any more attention to the matter or distract from the race, but I think it’s wise to draw up a just in case statement.”
I snort. “Annalise probably already has one on deck.”
Norm snorts. “Actually …”
I chuckle for the first time all day. I know my sister. Not only has she been in communication from afar all weekend, but she’s coordinated with my attorneys and Norm.
“There was a draft of a letter she wrote sitting in my inbox this morning.”
He chuckles.
“She probably should be your agent,” he says. “She’s got the goods for it.”
He’s right, but that’s a conversation for another day. Right now, the only person I want to see is behind the door I stand in front of.
“I just got home. I’ll talk to you later, Norm.”
“One more thing?—”
“No.” I disconnect the call, unwilling to listen to any more about work or the bullshit storm I feel brewing.
I let the phone slide down from my shoulder to my hand while I adjust the cup and food in one hand.
“Hi.” I smile at Alyssia when she opens the door. “My key’s in my pocket and …” I hold up my hands with the holder with the cups of lemon ginger tea.
She returns my smile but it doesn’t meet her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, stepping in the apartment and shouldering the door closed behind me.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head.
When I give her a look, her shoulders fall.
“I didn’t sleep well last night.”
My gaze drops to her belly. “Baby moving a lot at night?”
I read that this is the time that expecting mothers lose sleep for a variety of reasons. I even read a blog post that claimed it’s actually Mother Nature’s way of preparing the mother for being up in the middle of the night when the baby comes.
While I don’t know how true that last one is, I know I don’t like the idea of Alyssia being uncomfortable.
“It’s later than usual but I thought you might be hungry,” I say from the kitchen as I place our food down before spinning to her and taking her into my arms.
“The pregnancy pillow didn’t help with sleeping?”
She shrugs with one shoulder, not meeting my eye contact. “It’s normal. No big deal.”
I lean in to kiss her, which she doesn’t turn away from but doesn’t return too enthusiastically.
“Have you eaten?”
She shakes her head.
“Let’s have it on the balcony,” I suggest when she starts setting out plates on the kitchen table.
“Not today. Kitchen’s fine.”
