Page 141 of Babies for my Ex’s Bodyguard

Instead, she picks up my water bottle and presses it back into my hand. “Drink that, then I’ll tell everyone the meeting ended because I discovered a catastrophic vendor problem.”

“What catastrophic vendor problem?”

“I’ll invent one.”

“That seems unethical.”

“I prefer adaptable.”

I finish the water and follow her back toward the conference room, already suspecting my secret has found the safest possible person at Wolf Shield.

By lunchtime, I know I’m right.

Lena sends me a spreadsheet called Foods Emma Might Actually Keep Down and quietly relocates a meeting. She also tells the analyst reheating salmon that he has “declared war on an entire floor.”

I decide not to interfere.

When I arrive at Bane’s penthouse that evening, the elevator opens onto a living room that looks as though the family has responded to my pregnancy by forming several independent planning committees.

Mara sits in her usual chair with knitting needles in her hands and enough yarn beside her to open a small store. Babs lies across the rug surrounded by sheets of paper, with Biddy beside her organizing colored pencils.

Sprout is chewing the corner of a blue notebook.

Bane spots him from the kitchen. “Sprout, drop it.”

The dog stares at him, makes an executive decision, and runs down the hallway.

I step off the elevator. Bane watches him disappear. “Successful negotiation?”

“He understands the instruction. He rejects the terms.”

Babs looks up and sees me. “Emma!” She scrambles to her feet and races across the room carrying several pages. “I made baby names.”

I take the papers and Bane removes my bag from my shoulder.

Across the top, Babs has written BABY NAMES in purple marker, followed by a collection that appears to have been assembled without concern for legality, practicality, or eventual school enrollment.

I scan the page. “Princess is ambitious.”