“No, no. It’s totally fine.” But I was glad she was there to listen to it with me.
I hit Play, and then Kallum’s warm, deep voice filled the room. It was easy to forget, sometimes, how gorgeous that voice was. How it vibrated so rich and so low.
“Hey, Winnie,” Kallum said. “I just saw your post, and I wanted to say that I’m proud of you. I know that with your parents and all the stuff they raised you with, it might have been hard to tell people, and that there are going to be some people who say the very things you’re terrified someone will say. So I wanted to make sure, in case no one else said it, that you’re this supercool, amazing, brave, really hot person, and I’m proud of you. And, um...” A pause, and he continued, “I’m here if you need me. Even if it’s just to talk about what brand of car seat to register for. Or if you need someone to fight in your Instagram comments for you. Even my sister is ready to go if we need to tag team and fight some people on the internet. I’m just... I’m here...”
And right then, as he saidI’m here, I felt a small, soft flutter below my navel. So small it was barely there, but itwasthere.
For the first time, I’d felt the baby move, and it had happened while I’d been listening to Kallum’s voice. While we’dbothbeen listening to Kallum’s voice.
“I think the baby likes hearing Kallum,” I murmured, pressing my hand to my stomach and closing my eyes.
“Then let’s queue up the Spotify-sponsored INK playlist, baby girl,” Addison said. “And get another red juice, because we’ve got registries to make.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kallum
My phone lit up in my hand and sent my heartbeat galloping.
Winnie Baker:Thanks. That means so much to me, Kallum.
I began to type back, but before I could send anything else, another message from Winnie appeared.
Winnie Baker:I felt the baby kick. For the first time. Just now.
I gasped. I laughed. I was about to cry. And all I wanted was to see the way her face lit up when she felt that little stir in her belly for the first time.
Me:Holy shit! What did that even feel like? It sounds so cool and exciting, but weird too. I can’t believe you’re just casually growing a human.
Reuben poked his head into my office. “Everything okay, boss?”
“Better than okay,” I told him. “You ready to check out the other locations with me?”
Reuben nodded before disappearing to let the flagship staff know he’d be out for a few hours.
Winnie Baker:I have an appointment tomorrow and if you want, I can try to FaceTime you during the sonogram?
Me:I would love that. Consider my schedule cleared.
I stood and grabbed my car keys from the top drawer of my desk, pausing for a sec to send off a quick text to a friend and fellow pizza entrepreneur who I knew in LA. I’d struck a deal with him to send Winnie a maple bacon pizza every day, using my recipe. It probably wasn’t exactly the same, but it was close.
I’d been home for a week and big changes were happening for Slice, Slice, Baby. After firing my own nephew, I knew that whether or not I took the investment deal, I’d need an area manager to keep things running smoothly. Even if it was justSanta, Babypromo or maybe other jobs that came up—or just spending time in LA with the baby, and hopefully Winnie too—I needed someone with a slightly more fully-formed frontal lobe than Topher could offer to run the place.
So I sat down and looked at my finances and put together an offer package for Reuben, who’d worked for me for the last six years now. The fact that I went to Topher in the first place was a mistake on my part. Reuben was funny and loved making people happy with good food as much as I did. He and his wife had a two-year-old daughter who they dressed as a pizza delivery driver for her first Halloween. If I couldn’t be here to run my business, Reuben was the next best thing.
He countered my offer with more money and an extra week of vacation, and I said yes. He was dependable, smart, and knew the business. And he was standing right the fuck in front of me this whole time.
He was also the only person who didn’t make fun of me for chipping my tooth, and that was the kind of love I was willing to pay for.
“How was your flight?” Nolan asked as I bustled around his kitchen making my signature non-pizza dish, ginger-lime chicken with coconut rice.
“It was great,” Topher chimed in. “Except for when my own uncle ditched me for business class like those awful parents inHome Alone.”
Bee paused for a moment and then pointed a serving spoon at him. “You’re right. No one ever talks about how bad those parents were. Especially the uncle!”
“He was the worst,” I confirmed. “Speaking of holiday content, I’m still bitter we never made a Hanukkah album. It’s not right that Adam Sandler is the highest-ranking artist on the Spotify Hanukkah playlist.”
I shoveled chicken from my frying pan into one of Bee’s vintage Pyrex bowls and placed it on the kitchen table.
