Traffic crawled along the crowded streets, and I watched Vincent focus silently on leading his Bentley through it unscathed. Many of the wealthy left the driving to their chauffeurs, but Vincent wasn't dependent on anyone. He was the master and commander, and I knew he would protect me and our child with his life. It was a feeling that left me breathless every time.

As I pulled out my phone to text Sylvie about the doctor visit, Vincent glanced at it. "You need to know something before you look at your social media feed."

"What do I need to know?"

"The text I got earlier came from a reporter at Mega Mag. She received an anonymous tip that your pregnancy would be leaked within the hour."

"Shit. It must have been one of those women in the waiting room."

"Or someone from the hospital in DC. It doesn't matter."

"So, did you confirm the pregnancy with her?"

"Yes. She agreed to take a formal statement over the phone and will publish it on their site ahead of everyone else."

"That's it then. We're all in." I grinned at him, letting the pregnancy glow take the place of my fading Australian tan. I needed to enjoy this, like Dr. Hardwick said.

"We're all in." Vincent took his hand off the wheel to squeeze mine. "How are you feeling? Are you up for a small detour?"

"A detour? From my couch prison? But my guards are so adorable?"

My joke had him gracing me with a rare Vincent smile. "I hope you're including your doting husband."

"Of course. So, where are you detouring us?"

"Can it be a surprise?"

I wasn't sure what to make of this version of Vincent. He seemed to be forgoing his usual chief-of-everything persona for the role of doting husband. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"That depends on you. If it will upset you not to know, then I'll tell you." His smile turned sheepish, and I nearly burst into tears.

"Oh, you noticed, huh?" I dabbed my eyes with the tissue I'd taken from Dr. Hardwick's office, which was still crumpled in my hand. "Please, don't take it personally. I cried in front of Mr. Pearlman this morning. And you don't have to tell me where we're going. I like surprises."

With a confident nod, Vincent snapped back to monitoring the chaos outside the Bentley. When we reached the Garment District, I had a pretty good idea what Vincent was up to. He'd heard me whine about my lame clothing situation, and the darling had decided to take me shopping. What I didn't know was that the shopping was coming to me, and I couldn't keep the smile off my face as we walked into the studio of Todd X, renowned personal stylist and unapologetic wearer of chartreuse.

Todd's assistant, Claude, rushed to greet us, a measuring tape draped like an accessory over his navy and white polka dot blouse. His bleached-blonde hair, which he'd been very proud of the last time I saw him, was now accented by dark roots, which apparently was trending. "Vincent! Reese! Welcome to our humble studio," Claude gushed as he ushered us inside with an airy wave. "We've reserved the window seat, as you requested."

"I know it's short notice, but some moments need to be seized before the coffee kicks in."

Claude laughed high and loud. "So true, Vincent. So true. Carpe diem, as they say. Todd is just dragging his tired ass out of bed. I have refreshments on their way. Oh, and I'll bring in another chair for your guest. Just relax, you lovebirds."

After Claude bustled away, I asked Vincent the obvious question. "Who's our guest?"

"The reporter I talked to earlier, Charlotte Black." She suggested a full piece on us and the baby-to-be. She's bringing a photographer and one assistant. I can cancel if you're not okay with that."

"Boy, when you said we're all in, you meant it."

"Actually, you said it. I just agreed." His eyes darkened as he looked at me. "I'm sorry if you feel like I sprung this on you. The news leak kind-of blindsided me, and I wanted to nip any rumors in the bud. Charlotte is an excellent journalist. She'll do the piece justice."

"Charlotte's in your confidentiality file, isn't she?" The smirk appeared on my lips without my help at all, and Vincent offered a submissive shrug.

"Yes. One of the first, so she's definitely ancient history."

"Oh, I'm sure she's far from ancient, but it wouldn't matter. I'm still going to be jealous of her because she saw you naked."

The refreshments arrived through the back door; a bowl of fruit, sliced brie, and croissants. Perfection in a fancy to-go box. Vincent and I dug in, and shortly after, Todd sauntered into the shop with fabulous grace, wearing white skinny jeans and a pale pink blouse that he'd left open to expose his smooth chest. His dark hair was highlighted blonde and heavily gelled, allowing the bangs to swoop over his forehead in a perfect wave, and his fake tan glowed like he'd just stepped out of an episode of Baywatch.

"Look at you two!" Todd crooned as he made a show of hugging us from three feet away. "You look absolutely radiant, Reese. Marriage becomes you. Or am I witnessing the glow of an amazing honeymoon?" He laughed as he winked at Vincent. "So, you said Reese needs clothes for work and play. That's a tall order for one visit, but I've got people running to shops as we speak to get us started. Where are you working, sweetheart?"

When I realized Todd was talking to me, I quickly chewed the croissant I'd just bitten into and spoke around it. "Mega Manhattan Magazine. I'm a photographer, but I think I'll be working mostly at a desk to start."

"A cubical jockey, eh? And married to Manhattan's sexiest mogul. I'm thinking office smarts meets sex kitten sass. What do you think, Vincent?"

Todd grinned mischievously at Vincent as if he thought my husband would be dressing like a sex kitten. "Leave out the sex kitten part and I think you've nailed it." Clearly immune to Todd's forward manner, Vincent's boss man attitude returned as he looked at me. "Anything you want to add, Reese?"

"I'm a fan of pencil skirts, and suits are fine too. But..." I hesitated on whether to announce my pregnancy status to the room, then I realized it was going to be news today anyway. "But I'll be growing out of them in a couple of months, so I'll need a size bigger, I guess."

Todd slapped his hand over his open mouth, and I heard a gasp at the back of the room as Claude pushed a chair toward us. "You're pregnant?" Claude screeched as he hurried to join Todd, and they both stared at me like they just found out Princess Diana was still alive.

"Yes, she is," Vincent said. "And we're here to get her outfitted and make the news official. Charlotte Black of Mega Mag will be here any minute. No doubt, you two will benefit from the media attention."

Both men lifted their penciled eyebrows and smiled in unison. "You're too good to us, darling," Todd said. Then he waggled his finger at the front window. "That would explain the attractive reporter and her entourage coming this way."

Sure enough, three people were navigating deftly across the busy street toting camera bags and briefcases. One of the bodies stood exceptionally tall. The woman looked to be in her mid-thirties, although the sunglasses she wore hid the finer details. She was a platinum blonde, and her hairstyle mimicked Marilyn Monroe's signature look. Clearly, it wasn't her natural color, but paired with the white, calf-length dress and ankle strap heels, the effect packed a punch. So, I already wanted to punch her when she walked into the shop and Vincent stood to greet her.

"Vincent!" She held her arms out, forcing Vincent to hug her. "You look delicious, as usual. The newsroom hasn't been the same since you stopped paying your weekly visits."

"That was seven years ago. I'm sure you've come up with new forms of entertainment." Vincent offered his superb brand of sarcasm as he turned to stand beside my chair. "I'd like you to meet my wife, Reese."

"Reese. How lovely to finally meet you." Charlotte's greeting sounded like a rusty train pulling into a station, and I tried not to cringe at the squeal.

"It's great to meet you too, Charlotte." Not.

"This is Rich and Katie." Charlotte motioned to her cohorts standing a perfectly acceptable distance from my husband. "Katie is my assistant. She'll be writing everything verbatim while I catch the highlights. Rich will be taking the photographs. Will that be okay with you, Reese darling?"

Not your darling. "Sure, why not."

"Oh, look! The first runner is here." Claude rushed to let a handsome Latin man through the door carrying several garment bags. "Sit tight everyone. The show is about to begin."

Todd joined Claude as they escorted the runner to the back, and Vincent took his seat again on the couch. Before anyone could offer Charlotte the guest chair, she plopped down next to Vincent.

"Okay, you two. We'll make this quick and easy so you can get on with your business." She opened her briefcase and pulled out a dictation machine, handing it to Katie. "First, we'll need details on the baby. When is the due date?"

When she asked the question, I froze. Nobody had given us a firm date, but I had run the numbers in my head. Accounting for gollum gestation, I chose something between thirty-six and forty weeks just to be safe. "Early July," I said.

"A fourth of July baby? Perfect. We can work something patriotic into the piece." Charlotte scribbled excitedly on a notepad, already embellishing the story. "So, you're not far along enough to know the sex yet, I take it?"

"I don't want to know the sex ahead of time," I told her.

"Really?" Vincent's voice sounded larger than necessary. You'd think I'd announced I was giving the child up.

"I know we haven't talked about it yet, but I'm not interested in knowing our baby's sex before its born. I like surprises, remember?"

His tone immediately softened. "That's fine with me. Preparedness is over-rated."

Todd and Claude returned with a rack of outfits in varying shades of executive gray and cubicle blue, and they waved me out of my chair. Once inside the dressing room, I could hear Charlotte's grating voice as she quizzed Vincent, asking him questions that were totally unrelated to our baby-to-be, like whether he missed the single life and if he was still planning to throw his yearly pool party, which took place in July.

When I walked out to model my first pantsuit, I felt like a drill sergeant next to Charlotte's lanky legs and plunging neckline. Vincent glanced at me and offered a polite, "That's nice." 

"Which means, that's a no." Feeling frustrated, I walked back to the dressing room. But I stopped to tell Todd and Claude what I really wanted to see on their rack of designer wear. With a mirthful giggle, Claude whipped out his phone and made a call, and while he handled that, I did a quick change into a pencil skirt and pinstriped blouse that showed off some of my finer assets. Then I walked back out to talk to Charlotte the bombshell.

"So, I've got a few minutes, Charlotte. Is there anything else you need to ask me?"

Charlotte tilted her head as if she couldn't remember my name. Then she noticed my boobs, which featured prominently behind the buttons I'd forgotten to fasten on my blouse. "I think I've got everything I need, sweetie. But I'd love to get a few photos of you and Vincent. You can keep that nice skirt suit on if you'd like."

She eyeballed my corporate pinstripes with thinly veiled amusement, but I quickly shut her down. "No. I've got Claude fetching me something more appropriate for the piece, if you don't mind waiting a few more minutes for your photo-op."

"Of course, Reese. This is your show. Who am I to stand in your way?"

Who are you? Nobody. Now, get the hell away from my husband. "Thanks." I smiled at everyone as they stood around looking awkward, and when my gaze landed on Vincent, his brows were furrowed.

"Is that all you're going to try on from the rack?" he asked me.

"Yep. I've decided that suits aren't my thing, but you two go ahead and catch up while I see what else Todd has for me."

I pushed off the chair that was supposed to be for Charlotte and walked back to Todd, who had been standing in the wings eavesdropping. He leaned in and spoke conspiratorially in my ear.

"She may have the height, but you've got the body, darling. And I can't stress this enough... You've got the prize."

I smiled at Todd, feeling a kinship with the guy, although I knew he would spill everything if I shared my hatred for Charlotte. He tucked me back into the dressing room and forced me to try-on a few more corporate staples. By the time the runner arrived with my special request, I had chosen two work outfits to see me through month five.

Claude had placed a rush order from a boutique that specialized in sex kitten, and even if Vincent didn't approve of the choices for work, I'd be damned if I was going to appear on the pages of Mega Manhattan Magazine wearing a pantsuit. When the boys wheeled my selections in front of the dressing room, I stood in my bra and underwear surveying my options.

Sticking to the patriotic theme I'd suggested, there were dresses in blue, white, and a lipstick red halter that I specifically asked for once I'd gotten a look at Charlotte's knock-out number. I may not have had the endless legs, but I had assets that could do a red dress justice, and the white bolero jacket Todd recommended would add enough distraction from my boobs to give it a fighting chance with Vincent.

Todd and Claude could barely contain their glee as I slipped the dress on. They helped me tuck the girls behind the jacket and fastened a string of blue beads around my neck. Todd insisted on fluffing my hair, while Claude straightened all the pleats around the hem before I was introduced to the room.

"I like to call this one Bitch, you better know who I'm going home with." Todd waved his arm toward me as I waltzed out to stand in front of the window, fighting the embarrassment of his introduction while balancing on a pair of Gucci fuck-me pumps.

The dress hit me perfectly at the knees, and I couldn't help but give it a spin, letting the fabric swirl in a wide, billowy arc. I heard Rich's camera click away, and I held my smile in place as I gave them the show they came for. As for Charlotte, I wanted her to feel the burn.

"Reese, you look amazing in that dress," Vincent said, although he was eyeballing the cameraman more than me. "Were you planning to wear that to work?"

"No, but I'd like to wear it for the Mega Mag piece. Like Charlotte said, this is my show." I smiled pointedly at Charlotte, watching her pupils dilate to saucers.

Yeah. You felt that, didn't you?

"Perfect," Charlotte chirped as she popped off the couch, gesturing to Rich and his tripod. The photo shoot took less than ten minutes, and I was finally rid of Charlotte and her stupid legs. As Vincent made himself comfortable again, he offered me a wry smile.

"What's so funny, Vincent?"

"I'm just thinking about you in that dress taking Charlotte to the mat." He chuckled as he scratched his chin. "I really thought you were going to punch her."

"Is it wrong to say I wanted to?"

"No. She was coming on pretty strong. But when you walked out in that dress, you shut her right up. You look hot as fuck."

"So true. So true," Todd quipped as he and Claude stood listening nearby. "Add one red dress to the yes list." Todd waved a flamboyant hand toward the dressing room. "That's your signal to get back to business, Miss Thing."

I obliged him with a smile, knowing I still had a closet to fill and a hot-as-fuck husband to satisfy. If this was my future, then I needed to take control of it before it took control of me. And those Charlotte's out there could just feel the burn.