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probably end with her first trimester—the doctor was wrong. Today was the beginning of her second trimester and she had expected
     the morning sickness to disappear almost magically—but it hadn’t.
    A few minutes later, she shut off the water. She dried herself with a towel. After clearing the steamy mirror, she stared
     at her reflection. Her breasts were starting to swell. They hurt. Everything hurt. Everything was swollen. Get it together
     kid, you’re a mess… she told herself.
    She took a deep breath. Someone knocked on the door. It was Edward. He said, “Mr. Simons is here, Miss Cynthia. Shall I tell
     him you are on your way down?”
    She looked into the mirror. The hurt returned to her eyes. She put a hand to her mouth, closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
     She wasn’t ready for this.
    “Are you all right, Miss Cynthia?”
    “Tell my father I just got out of the shower. I’ll be down in a moment.”
    She put on a robe, wrapped her hair in a towel and then sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi tub until her knees stopped shaking.
     She walked slowly down the stairs. She knew her father would wait in the library—he preferred the library, said it was the
     only room in the house where he felt comfortable. More likely it was the only room in the house that wasn’t bugged. She knew
     this—she wasn’t as naïve as she pretended. The family “business” had taken her mother and she wasn’t about to let it take
     Scott as well.
    She paused in the hall to collect her thoughts and then entered. “Daddy, the flowers were beautiful, but they would have been
     even more beautiful if you had brought them yourself.” “Pumpkin, you look beautiful, healthy.” He held out his arms.
    She hesitated. The game, she reminded herself, it’s all about following the rules of the game.
    “Come here, tell daddy what’s wrong and I’ll fix it.”
    She still didn’t move. “Was the business trip really that important? You couldn’t have pushed it back a day? Mom would’ve
     been fifty. Fifty was special to her.”
    “Is that what this is all about? Why I drove all the way out from the airport through rush-hour traffic?”
    “Yes—No, it’s about Scott. He hasn’t been himself lately. I’m worried about him.”
    “I’m sure it’s nothing. Now, if you don’t come over here and give me a hug, I’m going to put you over my knee.” Cynthia smirked.
     They embraced. “Now, isn’t that better?”
    “Daddy, I know he’s in trouble.”
    “Pumpkin, how do you know he’s in trouble?”
    She took a seat next to him, braced herself, told herself to be brave, to look daddy in the eye. “Glen was here Sunday.”
    “Glen who?”
    “Glen Hastings,” she snapped, hormones and morning sickness getting the better of her. “I know I shouldn’t have listened in,
     but I had to try to find out what was wrong. I heard everything. Scott’s in trouble, daddy. Do you think you could pull some
     strings and get him reassigned?”
    James Simons, daddy to Cynthia, reached over and wiped the tears from her cheeks. “Pumpkin, I’m sure you’re just upset, but
     I will see what I can do to help out.” But in his eyes, she saw the Chairman and not her father. If there was one thing she
     had learned from Scott, it was how to read someone’s eyes.
    “Thank you.” She kissed his cheek, trying to hide the sudden trembling of her jaw. She’d gone too far with her admission.
     She wasn’t supposed to know anything and where before he had only absently listened to her, he was now paying full attention.
     “You know I really liked it better when he was just working with his gizmos. Now that he’s working in negotiations it’s just
     been a nightmare.”
    “Yes, negotiations can be tough,” he said with a smile.
    “Dangerous, more like. You didn’t tell me.”
    “You have to understand, I didn’t know the last assignment would—”
    “Don’t blame yourself. I don’t think anyone could’ve guessed that it’d go