Page 48 of Books and Hookups

“No, I guess it doesn’t.” She looked down at her white sneakers.

I shifted, crinkling the paper I sat on. “I didn’t mean it doesn’t matter what you wear. I just mean that no one is judging you for it.”

“Are people at work judging you?”

“My boss asked if my washing machine was broken.” I pointed at my black skirt folded on the chair next to Savannah’s. “That is literally the only thing I don’t hate that fits me.”

“The in-between time,” she said, “when your regular clothes don’t fit, but you’d be swimming in maternity clothes, is the worst. Maybe Carly can help you out. I bet she’s hidden a baby bump or two.”

I smoothed down the paper gown. “Anything Carly picked would make me stand out. I need to blend in with the guys I work with. Whenever my boss remembers I’ve got a uterus, I get the shit assignments.”

“That stinks. What did he say when you told him you were expecting?”

I barked out a bitter laugh. “I’m not saying a word. I’ll never get another decent assignment again if he thinks I’m, like, maternal and shit.”

She gave me a flat look. “You’re going to have to tell him.”

“Am I, though? What if I faked an injury and worked remotely until the baby’s born?”

“It’s kind of hard to get maternity benefits if they don’t know you’re pregnant.”

“Maybe I don’t need maternity benefits. If I’m working at home, I can watch the baby and work at the same time.”

Savannah shook her head. “I’m not sure you realize how hard childbirth is on your body. Or how much care newborns need. Maybe you need to find a different job.”

“Who’d hire a pregnant person?” I asked. “‘Please give me a job, and by the way, I’m about to disappear on you for three months.’”

“They can’t discriminate against you. It’s illegal.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“I know, I know, of course they’d get away with it.” She sighed.

I examined my toes. “I’ll fake some sports injury and say I have to work from home. Though my boss might forget I exist, and I’d be that much easier to let go in the next round of layoffs.”

“Layoffs?” Savannah’s eyes widened.

“Print media is dying. And don’t get me started on generative AI. Of course there’ll be layoffs.”

She crossed her legs. “I’m sorry. But you’ve got your book deal. Could you write full time?”

“Not unless it really takes off. My advance was decent, but it’s paid out in chunks. I’d have to have a few more books earning royalties to replace my salary.”

She flashed me an encouraging smile. “I have confidence in you.”

I wish I did.

There was a knock on the door, then it opened and Dr. Cheema bustled in. “Good afternoon, Lucie. How are you feeling today?”

Dr. Cheema didn’t want to hear that I felt like crap about my job, so I said, “I’m okay.”

“Any morning sickness? Swelling in your ankles? Constipation? Bloating?”

“No. Thank god. That sounds terrible.”

Savannah snorted. “Just wait a few months. That’s not even the worst of it.”

“Wait, what’s worse?” I asked.

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