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awkwardly, covertly glancing at them ever since, wondering…
    But despite, or maybe even because of her directness, I like Emma, and she’s been my godsend this week.
    After only two days of training, Connie’s water broke at work and just three hours later she had a happy, healthy baby boy, whom they’d named Roberto, after her husband’s side of the family. He was like the tenth Roberto or something like that. And what woman has their first baby in three hours? I would never get that lucky. Not that I’ll get the chance.
    “Did you see the pictures of little Roberto? Isn’t he so adorable? And all that black hair! It’s so thick, it looks like he needs a haircut already.”
    “Yeah, he’s very beautiful.” A little pang of sadness and envy rushes hot through my veins. Sadness at what was taken from me. Envy for what I’ll never have. Because of a monster. My face must have fallen, because I feel a hand on my shoulder and when I focus back on Emma, hers is etched with concern.
    “Are you okay, Livia?”
    “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”
    She smiles, but it’s one of sympathy. “How about lunch today?”
    I sigh. “I can’t, Emma. I have to get the status on a few patents, file Mr. Nichols’ expense reports, which are late, and try to duplicate last quarter’s presentation for the board meeting next week. Connie was trying to finish all of that before she had the baby, but never got a chance to show me what to do or where to pull the information from.” And on top of all that, PowerPoint isn’t my best skill.
    Carrying three plates on each arm? Piece of cake.
    Selecting a nice bottle of Sangiovese or Chenin Blanc to complement your mahi mahi? Bring it on.
    Importing a document, making graphs and ensuring all fonts are nicey-nice and lined up properly? Not so much. And for some reason, I am reluctant to admit I need help.
    “Okay, but if you need anything, please let me know. Don’t try to take it all on yourself. I’m here if you need me.”
    “Thanks, Emma. You’ve been great.”
    Emma starts to walk away when she spins back around and says “Oh!” so loud, I thought she’d hurt herself. “I forgot, it’s thirsty Thursday at Gil’s. One-dollar pitchers with a ten-dollar cover. All night long. A few of us usually go after work for dinner and a few pitchers. Join us. You can get to know some of the others.”
    I internally sigh. I don’t drink much or make many friends. Friends just ask too many personal questions. While I’ve somewhat perfected my story, every once in a while a question comes up that I don’t have a pre-formulated answer to, and I’ll have to add another lie on top of the already hefty pile. And remember it. I’m something of a subject matter expert at winging it now. But it’s easier to just stick to my short story and stay to myself. Kamryn and Addy know I have secrets, but neither of them pry. Most others don’t take a hint so well.
    “I’m going to have to work late on this Emma. It’s the first big meeting I’ve been involved in, and I don’t want to make Mr. Nichols look bad. But ask me again.” Or not. If I turn people down enough, they simply stop asking. It’s a lonely life, but one I’ve accepted. Even embraced.
    “Okay. But I’m going to hold you to that, girlie.”
    I simply smile as she bounces away, her girls practically slapping her in the chin.
    Then I get back to work. Because if I don’t figure this shit out, and fast, I’ll not only be working late tonight, I’ll be here every single night until next Friday’s board meeting.
    Then I may just end up saying yes to Gil’s thirsty Thursday dollar pitchers.
     

Chapter 5
     

     
     
    “Well, fucking look harder. She’s here . I saw her with my own goddamned eyes.” I’m about ready to go through the phone and strangle this incompetent asshole.
    “I’ll keep trying,” Burt sputters.
    “She has to have a goddamned driver’s license, Burt.”
    “No, sir. She has an expired license from