Page 66 of P.S. You're Intolerable

“This is the window, pretty girl, smart girl. This is the light, strong girl, wise girl. This is the light switch, sweet girl, brave girl.” And she kept going with each object she pointed to.

Raymond raised his hands. “Okay, I get it. You hired the top of the line for our angel. I forgive you for not asking me if I wanted the job.”

I scoffed. “It isn’t like I could afford you, Ray.”

He pointed at me. “True. You definitely can’t.”

Davida took the phone from me to watch the screen. “Can I have a nanny who walks around with me singing affirmations all day?”

Raymond crossed his arms. “Did you just come up with a business idea?”

I giggled. Man, I hadn’t missed much about work, but I’d missed them. I hadn’t seen them enough over the last few weeks since moving in with Elliot.

“I don’t know if that’s really a business plan with wings. What if we just compliment each other?” I quipped. “Davida, your new haircut is looking mighty fly.”

She fluffed the bottom of her razor-sharp bob. “Thank you, darling. Your return has brightened up this dull place.”

“Why, thank you, Davida.” I turned to Raymond. “The brief you sent me to proofread was really good. The lack of grammatical errors was incredibly sexy.”

He did a dramatic bow. “My mastery of commas is unmatched.”

“Raymond doesn’t need a compliment nanny. He gives them to himself,” Davida drawled.

“Damn right,” he agreed.

A hush fell over the space around us, which could have only meant one thing: Elliot was here. Davida and Raymond moved to the side of my desk so we could all watch him slice through the air of the hallway like his body was a samurai sword.Swish, swish,he made ribbons of the distance between us, stopping in front of my desk.

“Davida, Raymond.” He nodded to them.

They greeted him in return then made hasty retreats to their desks.

“Good morning, Elliot.”

“Good morning, Catherine. Before we have our meeting, I’d like to show you something.”

“Okay.” I pushed back from the desk and circled around to where he stood. “I’m intrigued.”

He placed his hand on the center of my back and guided me to a door next to his office. He went in first, flipping on the light, and I didn’t understand what I was seeing.

What had once been a storage space was something else entirely now. In the middle of the room was a thick, cream-colored rug and two plush armchairs. In one corner sat a small, stainless steel fridge. A TV was mounted on the wall, and there were speakers in the corners.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A pumping room.”

“But there’s one downstairs. I don’t need anything special.”

He shook his head. “You don’t have to share now. I had the space available. It wasn’t any trouble to convert it into a room for you. If it’s not suitable, tell me, and I’ll have the necessary changes made.”

“Of course it’s suitable,” I rushed out, moving deeper into the room. I sat down on one of the armchairs and sighed. “This is almost as comfortable as my desk chair. You might have to pry my sleeping body out of here.”

I looked up at him, surprised to see the flush rising on his face like it did when I inexplicably pissed him off. I supposed any boss wouldn’t have been pleased to hear his assistant planned on napping during the workday.

I hopped up, smoothing my dress over my hips, which were still wider than prepregnancy. To be fair to my hips, all of me was wider or softer or squishier than before I had Joey, and I was more self-conscious of my body than ever.

“I’m only kidding. I won’t fall asleep in here,” I promised. “Thank you for doing this. It’s nicer than anything I could have asked for.”

“You didn’t ask for anything. I wanted you to have it.”

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