Page 101 of Nash
Amelia's face goes a deeper shade of pink. "Black. Two sugars. He stirs it exactly four times."
Kyle stares at her. "How do you know that?"
"You get coffee every time you're at Vesper. I work at Vesper."
"That's observation, not—"
"It's the same thing," East says.
Ruby turns to me, her arms still crossed, her chin lifted. "See? I'm basically a matchmaker now. First I bedazzled Knox's bike, then I stole Kyle's clipboard, now I'm assembling couples. My reign of chaos is producing results, Nash. Quantifiable, romantic results. I should get a badge."
I laugh.
The sound comes out before I can stop it. Low, my shoulders shaking once before I lock them down. Ruby's head snaps toward me, her eyes widening, her mouth falling open.
"Oh my GOD." She points at me. "He laughed. Nash laughed. That's twice this week. Twice. This is unprecedented. This is historic. Someone write this down."
"I have a spreadsheet," Knox says.
"Knox, if you put Nash's laughs in a spreadsheet, I will love you forever."
"Already creating a tab."
"Call it 'Evidence of Humanity' Subcategory: 'Confirmed Laughs.' Cross-reference with Ruby proximity."
"Done."
I look at Ruby. She's grinning at me, full wattage, bouncing on her toes. My mouth pulls again, and I let it.
"Stop," she says. "Stop doing that. I can't handle the smile and the laugh in the same five minutes. My heart isn't built for this. I need medical attention."
Darla shifts in her chair again. This time her face tightens longer, her breath catching, her hand pressing hard against the side of her belly. She exhales through her teeth.
Sloane's head turns. She's been watching Darla all afternoon, I realize. Her eyes have been tracking every shift, every wince, every hand pressed to belly. She pulls out her phone and checks the time.
"Darla." Sloane's voice is calm. Professional. "That's the fourth one I've counted in the last hour."
"It's Braxton Hicks. I've been—"
"Braxton Hicks are irregular. Those have been coming every fifteen minutes, and the last two were closer to ten." Sloane stands, crosses to Darla, takes her wrist. "With twins, we don't wait for them to get closer. We need to get you to the hospital."
East drops his coffee mug. It hits the table, doesn't break, coffee sloshing over the rim. He doesn't notice. "What?"
"Contractions. Real ones. Twelve minutes apart."
He pales. "But she's—It's not—The due date isn't for two more weeks!"
"Twins come early, East. I told you this." Sloane looks at Darla. "How's the pain? Scale of one to ten."
"Six. Maybe seven when they peak." Darla's face has gone pale. "Oh god. Oh god, is this happening? This is happening? Right now? In the middle of a war room briefing?"
"The twins have great timing," Ruby says.
"The twins have TERRIBLE timing," Darla says. "I was about to win the couples game. I had answers prepared and MATERIAL."
East is on his feet, his chair scraping back. "We need to go. We need to go to the hospital. Right now. Everyone needs to—We need—Where are my keys?"
"Your pocket," Knox says.
