Page 33 of Something Like Shelter

He was making a case to have an excuse to write me up. To start compiling a file that would allow him eventually to fire me without repercussions.

I had to go.

“Fine,” I said, sighing.

“And bring your significant other,” Nick said, hanging up before I could object.

“Dammit.”

I slammed the phone down on the counter hard enough to make Gracie jolt, then press Adelaide to her shoulder and make her way toward me.

“What’s going on? Did something happen?”

“My boss is making me attend that stupid gala.”

“Oh,” Gracie said, frowning. “That sucks. If you’re worried about the baby, Perish and I can watch her.”

“I’m worried about squeezing into a dress. And having an issue with leaking through it. And needing to find somewhere to pump, since these things go on forever. And, oh, God, having a date. I have to bring a date. Because I made the mistake of letting work think I’m actually with someone.”

“Oh,” Gracie said, wincing. “Yeah, that’s a pickle, huh? Well, okay. Let’s go through this.” She jiggled a fussy Adelaide. “Your body is amazing. I think you’re being too critical. Really, you don’t look much different. Aside from the boobs. Which are fantastic, by the way.”

She probably wasn’t wrong. Any changes I did see in my body were things that only someone who saw me naked would be able to see: stretch marks and squishy bits.

Fully dressed, maybe even with some compression on, I probably wouldn’t look any different.

“And as for the milk, you have a manual pump. I know it takes longer, but you won’t have to worry about the sound, if that’s a concern.”

It was.

There weren’t many places to pump at the event. A couch in the small lounge that led into the ladies’ room. That was it. No privacy and also… no plug. But if we were in hour four or five and my boobs were starting to feel like concrete, I had to have an option for relief. Even an imperfect one like a manual pump.

“I guess,” I agreed. “But the biggest issue persists.”

The worst part was that I’d created this problem myself.

I’d spent months carefully constructing the fiction of a happy relationship because I was afraid of what people at work would think if they knew the truth. And now the lie had grown legs and walked directly into an invitation to a black-tie event.

I couldn’t exactly show up alone and announce that my imaginary significant other was out of town on business, not without rousing suspicion.

And I couldn’t tell my boss the truth.

Not when I’d spent so much time convincing him that I had a partner. Not when I already suspected he was looking for reasons to question my commitment to my job.

I needed a man.

A convincing man.

A man who could stand beside me for an entire evening without making it obvious that we barely knew each other.

“Well, I mean, does it?” Gracie asked. “It’s not like there is any shortage of men in our extended family.”

“I’m not taking a cousin of mine to an event.”

“Okay. But there are guys in our circle who aren’t family.”

“Sure, but do you really think slapping a suit on them would make them work?”

“They are pretty rough-around-the-edges, huh? Well, we could see about—” There was a creak on the steps, making Gracie’s face light up. But before I could beg her not to, she was turning toward my handyman. “Owen!”