Triplets For The Texan. Janice Maynard
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Soon after that sobering conversation, Simone was back outside staring around in a daze at the nicely landscaped grounds of the hospital. Triplets. No matter how many times she repeated the word in her head, it didn’t seem real. She’d had daydreams about pushing a stylish stroller with a tiny infant dressed in pink or blue. It was hard to fathom the reality of taking three babies out on the town.
She sat in her car for the longest time, telling herself everything was going to be okay. Her initial motives in getting pregnant had been less than pure. Was the universe punishing her for playing around with motherhood?
Despite evidence to the contrary, she was stunned to realize that she wanted these babies desperately. Not one of them, or two...but all three. Placing her palm flat on her abdomen, she tried to imagine what she was going to look like in a few months. With triplets, she could be huge.
Oddly, the thought wasn’t as alarming as it should have been. For a woman who wore haute couture as a matter of course and worked hard to keep her body in shape, the fact that she was able to imagine herself as big as a blimp without hyperventilating showed personal growth.
At least that’s what she told herself.
It was getting late. She was supposed to be at Naomi’s condo in less than an hour. Naomi and Cecelia were making their signature jalapeño and shredded beef pizza. Normally, Simone gobbled down at least three pieces. How was she going to make it through the evening when the thought of food made her want to barf?
As she drove to the other side of town, she practiced what she was going to say. By the way, I haven’t had sex in months, but I’m pregnant with triplets. Or how about I ran into Hutch last week. I don’t think I ever got over him.
Already she was reconsidering her decision to keep Naomi and Cecelia in the dark. This was too hard to do alone. She needed someone to talk to...someone who would have her back. If she couldn’t confide in her two best friends, she couldn’t confide in anybody. Naomi and Cecelia had been her closest companions and confidantes since grade school. Still, she wasn’t ready to spill all her secrets at once. She needed time to wrap her head around things. It was happening too fast.
As Simone entered her code on a keypad and rolled through the elegant gate, she noted the perfectly manicured grounds of the luxury condo complex. Naomi’s privacy was protected here. Naomi Price was famous in Royal for any number of reasons. Her cable television show had been picked up nationally, so now she was dispensing style advice to women—and men—coast to coast.
Simone parked and walked up the path. When she rang the buzzer, Cecelia answered the door. “It’s about time. Where have you been?”
Clearly, the question was rhetorical, because Cecelia disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Simone to put a hand over her mouth and gag at the smell of cooking meat. Oh, lordy. She fished a water bottle from the depths of her leather tote and took a cautious sip. If she wasn’t ready to talk about the babies, she had to get her stomach under control. Otherwise, her secret wasn’t going to be a secret for very long.
Gingerly, she rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. The room wasn’t huge, but it was as stylish as the woman who hovered over the stove. Naomi had brown eyes and long copper-brown hair. She was charming and extremely pretty, but Simone knew her friend didn’t understand how beautiful she was.
Cecelia, on the other hand, had bombshell looks and knew how to use them. Her platinum hair and long legs drew men in droves. Her company, To the Moon, produced high-end children’s merchandise but had recently branched out to the adult furniture realm with the launch of Luna Fine Furnishings. Simone and her ad agency were currently producing a hard-hitting campaign designed to take Cecelia’s company to the next level.
The other two women barely said hello at first. They were squabbling over the correct ratio of peppers to meat. At last, Naomi looked up. “Hey, hon. What’s the matter with you? I’ve seen ghosts with more color.”
That was the thing about good friends. They didn’t sugarcoat things. “Just an upset stomach,” Simone said. “I think I ate too much at lunch.” Fortunately, meal prep took precedence and no one called her on the lie.
Normally, Simone would have offered to help, but right now she stayed as far away from the food as possible. When the large pizza was in the oven, the three women adjourned to the living room. Simone envied Naomi’s innate sense of style. Her home was stunning but extremely comfortable.
Simone claimed a comfy chair and sat down gingerly. She’d always heard about morning sickness, but she had never imagined how wretched it could be. Tucking her legs beneath her, she tried to get comfortable.
Cecelia, on the other hand, hovered by the window. She was always a high-energy person. Today she practically vibrated with excitement.
Naomi took a sip of her Chardonnay and waved a hand. “What’s up, Cecelia? You said we had to wait for Simone. She’s here now. Don’t keep us in suspense.”
The tall blonde spun around, fumbled in her pocket and held out her hand. “Deacon proposed! And I’m pregnant.”
After that dual announcement, much squealing ensued. Simone and Naomi hugged their friend and admired the ring. Deacon Chase was quite a catch. He’d lived in Europe for a decade, but had returned to Royal and purchased a beautiful country lodge on the outskirts of town. The gorgeous, self-made billionaire hotelier had confidence and charisma and a dimpled smile that broke hearts everywhere. As far as Simone was concerned, he was one of the few men alive who could handle Cecelia and not be intimidated by her looks and personality.
Clearly, now was not the time for Simone to share her own news. For one, she didn’t want to steal Cecelia’s thunder.
When the furor died down, they adjourned to the kitchen and dug into the freshly baked pizza. Simone’s stomach cooperated enough for her to get down most of one piece, though she surreptitiously removed the jalapeños and wrapped them in a paper napkin. No point in tempting fate.
“So who’s your doctor?” Simone asked. Please don’t let it be Hutch.
“I’m seeing Janine Fetter. She’s not real chatty or friendly, but I don’t need that in a doctor. I want someone I can trust to take care of me and my baby. Dr. Fetter fits the bill.”
Naomi shook her head. “I still can’t believe it. This means we’ll have to plan a baby shower.”
Cecelia laughed. “Give it time. I’m still in my first trimester. Plenty of opportunity for that. Deacon and I are going to keep the news to ourselves for a while, but he knew I would have to tell you two.”
“Well, I should think so,” Naomi said. “We’ve never kept secrets from each other.”
Simone grimaced inwardly. The trio’s tight friendship had backfired in Royal at times. Some people referred to them as the mean girls. The label wasn’t fair. They weren’t mean. But when three women were extremely successful, attractive and high-profile, there were bound to be those who took potshots. The criticism had sharpened after Naomi, Cecelia and Simone had been admitted into the Texas Cattleman’s Club.
Some diehards still thought women should be kept out. And somebody had started the rumor that Naomi, Cecelia and Simone could be behind the malicious blackmail messages various residents of Royal had been receiving via social media.