“Two a day,” I remind her. “The recommended dose is two pills per day.”

She smiles. “I know.”

I squeeze my hands together. “And you have to avoid cold cuts. And sushi. And, well… alcohol is supposed to be okay in moderation, but—”

“Don’t worry, Abby,” Monica says in that calm voice of hers. “I’m not going to drink at all. I promise.”

I hear a knock on the door, and before I can say anything, Denise is standing in the doorway. She never waits for a reply before barging in. She peers at me, a noticeable lack of a smile on her lips, but that’s nothing new. She regards Monica briefly, but chooses not to even acknowledge her with a greeting.

“Abigail,” she says. “Have you found a slogan yet for Cuddles? I just got a call from them.”

“Um…”

Cuddles baby food—tastes fifty percent less sickening than the other leading brands.

“Not yet,” I say.

Denise eyes the baby food containers on my desk. Too late, I notice Monica’s pregnancy test is still lying there. I put my elbow in front of it, hoping Denise doesn’t notice. Aside from Shelley, I haven’t told a soul here about my arrangement with Monica, and I don’t intend to. Nothing good can come of that. She’s going to leave the company before she’s showing, so really, it’s none of their business.

“We’re meeting with them tomorrow,” Denise reminds me. “I hope you’ll have something by then.”

“Absolutely.”

She frowns at me. “Don’t disappoint me, Abigail. This is an important account.”

Yes, I know this is an important account. Despite my success with the diapers campaign, you’re only as good as the last thing you’ve done. If I screw this up, I’m finished. Why else would I be sitting here, eating this disgusting baby food?

“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’m on it.”

I let out a breath when Denise breezes out of my office. I’m dreading the conversation where I have to tell her I need twelve weeks of family leave after all. But what can I do?

Wow, this baby thing is really going to happen.

I’m going to have a baby.

I can’t believe it.

“I better prepare for this meeting,” I say to Monica, who kept her head down the whole time Denise was berating me. “But… well, I know I’ve said this before, but I can’t say it enough: thank you. This is… incredible.”

She smiles, showing off a row of pearly white teeth. “I’m happy to do it for you.”

She looks down at the positive pregnancy test lying on the table in front of me. She starts to reach for it, but I shake my head. “I can throw this away for you.”