Allie stared at the odd sandwich that was almost as appetizing as the man who created it. She bumped him with her shoulder. “You know what? I think it is.”
They gathered around the table and said grace before digging in. “How are you doing, Leticia?” Mark asked, pointing his fork to her basketball of a tummy.
“I’m looking forward to sleeping on my stomach again—I can tell you that.” Leticia popped a blueberry in her mouth.
“Like you’re going to sleep once the baby’s here. I didn’t sleep for the whole first year after Chloe was born.”
Leticia coughed on her blueberry. Anthony took her hand, moving his thumb back and forth across her knuckles.
Allie turned from the tender scene, focusing instead on her breakfast. Mark had mentioned he had a daughter and she could probably find out all about the girl with one quick Google search. But she kind of liked getting to
hear about her through Mark—the information would be intimate and personal.
She momentarily wondered if the disclaimer statement she’d signed yesterday applied to this morning too. Not that it mattered to her if the agreement held or not, because she wasn’t the type to go running to the press. But Mark mentioning hisdaughter in such a casual way did matter to her, because it showed he trusted her—at least a little bit—like a friend. She tucked the thought of being friends with Mark into a side pocket so she could pull it out and examine it later. Being friends with the superstar was an intriguing concept. Not because such a friendship would mean seat warmers and scented body soaps, but because friends watched out for one another. He’d done that last night and she vowed to return the favor by guarding his privacy.
Leticia sank in her chair. “I hadn’t thought about not sleeping when she was here.”
Allie didn’t like the look of discouragement on her beautiful face. “Have you thought about a nursery?” She hoped to focus on the fun parts of having a baby.
“We did.” Anthony nodded to Leticia for her to explain as he gathered up a third of the sausage from the serving dish. He probably had to eat a lot of protein, being an athlete and all. Allie checked Mark’s plate and saw just as much meat. She bit her cheek at the thought of him eating to feed his muscles. She really needed to stop thinking about those.
“Do you want to see it?” Leticia asked hopefully.
Allie nodded. Her hand went to her stomach. “I think I’m done here. I shouldn’t have attempted Mark’s waffle tower.” They all chuckled. Mark’s touched her elbow and his laugh lines appeared. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
“Ooooooh.” Allie hugged her middle and bent forward. “Give me at least four hours.”
“You got it.” He winked.
Was he kidding? Surely he wasn’t suggesting they would still be together in four hours. That was just plain silly … and impossible … and absolutely wonderful.
“Go on with ya,” Anthony encouraged. “We’ll take care of clean up.” “Thanks, love.” Leticia kissed his cheek and motioned for Allie to follow her down the hallway. Allie did, her feet moving away from Mark
but her mind mulling over his comment. He must have been joking. Leticia opened the door and motioned for Allie to go in first. Two steps in, Allie was accosted by the dish-glove yellow walls and the
neon blue carpet. She stared at the floor. The carpet was actually blue.Whaaaat?The body of a giraffe covered one wall, the neck and head cut off, like the artist had forgotten what he was doing and up and left in the middle of painting. An orange and green blanket hung over the edge of the crib fitted with dark purple sheets.
“We hired Hugo Francois to do the design.” Leticia turned in a circle in the middle of the room, a slight frown marring her model-perfect features.Was he high?
“He’s done nurseries for Will Smith and Tom Brady,” she added. “You mean you didn’t pick any of this?” Allie asked to be sure. She didn’t want to hurt Leticia’s feelings, butdang. The room was ugly. “I didn’t lift a finger. Hugo did all the work.” Her perfect brows drew together.
What a relief.The room’s psychedelic motif didn’t match the rest of the house. The poor baby would have nightmares, or grow up to be a diabolical scientist or a circus clown. “So he dictated the colors … and … and you hate it, don’t you.”
“I don’t love it,” she replied diplomatically.
Sign this woman up for the UN. Allie laughed, which made Leticia laugh too.
In the middle of her laughter, Leticia started to cry. Soon, she was laughing and crying at the same time. “Everyone ravedabout what a genius he is—I didn’t dare tell them he’s crazy.” She continued to blot at her dripping mascara.
“Here, use this.” Allie handed her the orange blanket.
Leticia hesitated.
“You can’t make it any worse.” They laughed again and Leticia swiped a large black mark across the middle of the quilt.
Allie ran her hand over the walnut wood. “This is a beautiful crib, though.”
“That’s my favorite part.” Leticia stepped beside her.
