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Authors: B.N. Toler

The Anchor (4 page)

BOOK: The Anchor
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“The color looks great on you, Nikki,” Edie insists. “Besides, you’ve already spent a small fortune having this one made.”

“I’m competing in the Miss North Carolina Pageant, Edie,” I point out, as if she didn’t already know that. “I have to win this to get to Miss USA. The expense is irrelevant.” Sliding my hand down the front, I realize the fabric is tight, even when I’m sucking in. “Pearl, I think you need to let it out a bit. It’s a little snug around the waist.”

Pearl moves around me, eyeing the dress, and her brows furrow. “I made it twenty-three inches. Same as always.”

“Are you sure?” I ask as I turn to look at my side profile.

“Let me measure you again.” She pulls out her tape measure and wraps it around my waist as I hold my arms up to give her better access. Tilting her head, her glasses slide down the bridge of her nose as she stares at the number.

“You’re a twenty-six,” she says, not making eye contact with me. She knows I’m going to freak out.

“What?” I shriek. “That’s impossible. I’ve been on a thousand-calorie diet and worked out every day for the last two months.”

“Have you weighed yourself?” Edie asks. “Maybe it’s just muscle weight you’ve gained.”

“Unzip me,” I order Pearl, and she does so quickly. “Do you have a scale, Pearl?”

“In the bathroom,” she mumbles. Holding the dress to my chest, I rush to the unisex bathroom in the back. When I reach the doorway, I gingerly step out of the dress and hand it to Edie. The fact I’m in nothing but heels and a thong right now doesn’t seem to faze her a bit. She’s been to enough of my pageants.

“Even if you’ve put on a little weight, you still look amazing, so stop freaking out,” she warns as she delicately holds my gown.

“Three inches, Edie,” I say, adamantly. “She took my measurements a month ago and I’m three inches bigger now.” I flick on the light in the bathroom and using my foot to slide the scale out and away from under the sink, I slip my heels off and step on it. Remaining still as the dial swings back and forth, I try to calm myself with a deep breath. At five foot seven, I’ve managed to hold my weight at 118 pounds for years. Not an easy feat when I drink beer like a man. And it’s not lite beer either. But maybe my age is catching up with me and I’ll have to cut that out. When the dial lands on 124 pounds, my stomach twists into knots. What the fuck? Six pounds?

“What does it say?” Edie asks from the doorway where she patiently stands leaning against the doorframe.

“Six pounds,” I say, numb, still staring at the scale, willing it to move down.

“Maybe you’re about to start your cycle. Most women gain a little weight around their time of the month,” she offers in an attempt to calm me. But her words do just the opposite. Her words send terror down my spine and make me nauseous. My periods are always off. With the way I work out constantly, I may have my cycle one month and not have it the next. Normally I wouldn’t freak out about it, but right now, I’m about to have a fucking stroke. It wasn’t that long ago that I gave my virginity to Parker Hayes. We used protection—well, mostly. But nothing is foolproof. Shit.

“Nikki?” Edie steps toward me and places a hand on my shoulder while holding my dress with the other.

Turning my head to look at her, I say five dreaded words. “I need a pregnancy test.”

Thirty minutes later, we’re sitting in my Audi outside of Holly Spring’s Pharmacy.

“If you want me to go in and buy it, can’t we drive somewhere else? What if someone sees me with it?” Edie asks.


You
are engaged,” I point out. “It wouldn’t look as bad for someone to see you as it would for me. I have no damn boyfriend.”

She huffs and darts her brown eyes to me. “All right,” she says, defeated.

My stomach is in knots as I nod and whisper, “Thank you, Edie.”

Placing her hand softly on my thigh, she says, “No matter what, it’s going to be okay.”

Again, I nod, even though I don’t agree at all. If I am, in fact, pregnant, nothing will be okay. My life will be over. My dreams will be destroyed.

Edie slips on my giant sunglasses, attempting to disguise herself, and hustles in.

As I wait for her, I open the Facebook app on my cell phone and pull up Parker’s page. He’s messaged me several times over the past two months and I’ve ignored each one. I know; I’m a bitch. It’s not like I don’t like him. I do. But I knew keeping in touch would just complicate things. I’d want to know what was going on with him. And I don’t want to want to know what’s going on with him. If it hadn’t been completely necessary, I would’ve never accepted his friend request, but I’d needed him. I knew if I posted that picture of Edie giving a friendly birthday kiss to Dierk, Parker would see it and show it to John. So maybe the kiss didn’t look friendly, even though it was, but Parker and John didn’t know that.

Parker’s latest post: Loving New York and my new job.

I roll my eyes. What a random post. It almost sounds like he was saying it more to himself than his Facebook friends. Groaning, I toss my cell in my purse on the floorboard and wait. Ten minutes later, Edie comes flying out of the store with the test that’s in a white paper bag under her arm, running to the car like she’s got heroine and she’s being chased by the DEA.

“I bought two.” She breathes heavily as she slams her door shut. “Just in case.”

Starting the car, I reverse out of the space and silently pray that these tests will come back negative and the two of us will laugh at how badly I freaked out.

 

 

 

“Nikki and I are just having a little girl time.” Edie is on her cell when I come out of the bathroom. The white stick of doom is sitting on my sink, precariously plotting my life’s demise.
Please be negative. Please be negative.

I’m busy making all kinds of promises to God if he’ll just give me this one free pass. I won’t curse . . . as much. I won’t drink . . . as much. I’ll go to church more.

“I love you, too.” Edie giggles. “Yeah . . . me too.” When she looks up and sees I’ve exited the bathroom, her smile fades. “I gotta go, Suit. I’ll be home in a bit.”

When she hangs up, she tosses her phone on my bed. “Plotting your next sexcapade?” I ask.

Edie gives me a guilty grin. That’s exactly what they were doing, but she feels bad about it when I’m in the state I’m in. “Don’t hold back,” I tell her and flash a smile. “What’s next?”

“He bought a Kama Sutra book.”

“At this rate, you two are going to run out of shit to do,” I warn her as I chuckle.

Her dark eyes dart away from mine as she grins shyly. “Not as long as romance and erotica thrive in the book world.”

“Touché, my friend.”

“Has it been three minutes yet?”

“I think so.” I swallow the giant lump in my throat.

“Do you want me to go in and look with you?” she asks timidly as she pushes some of her dark hair behind her left ear.

“No. I can do it.”

I don’t really remember the seconds as I walked into the bathroom. Once I saw the two pink lines, the only thing I could see, think, or hear were my dreams dying a slow and brutal death. Before I know it, I’m on my bed, sobbing, Edie rubbing my arms, telling me it will be okay. That she’s here and will help me through this.

But how do you help someone who ruined their own life? I made a decision. I gave myself to a man. And now, that decision has left consequences.

One weekend with the sexy and charming Parker Hayes has changed my life
forever.

 

 

 

Two months ago . . .

 

JFK was packed, which I’m sure only added to Edie’s fuck buddy’s annoyance as he collected the—even I can admit—asinine amount of luggage I brought with me for our weekend getaway.

“Did you leave anything in Holly Springs, Nikki?” John grumbled as he lugged my large suitcase off the carousel.

I chuckled slightly from where I stood beside Edie, our arms looped together as we watched him chuck the suitcase on a luggage cart. “I am packing for two, you know,” I said casually. John and Edie’s eyes went wide as their gazes darted to one another’s.

“Oh my God, Nik! You’re pregnant? Who’s the father?” Edie shrieked as she slapped my arm.

My head reared back with her question as I took a step back. “What the fuck? Who said anything about being pregnant?”

“You said you were packing for two.” She held up two fingers in emphasis.

I couldn’t help laughing as I rolled my eyes. Leave it to my best friend to jump to
that
crazy conclusion. “I’m not pregnant! I meant I packed for you and me, Edie. I know you didn’t bring nearly enough in that little carry-on you brought. And what you brought is probably not club acceptable.” All of this was true. Edie was beautiful but shy. She doesn’t get highlights in her hair, she doesn’t wear a ton of makeup, and she doesn’t wear slutty clothes . . . unless I make her, that is.

Her shoulders relaxed as she exhaled loudly. “Thank God. You scared the shit out of me,” she replied and began to giggle. I could tell I scared her. She doesn’t curse often.

“Girl, I’d have to be institutionalized if I were preggo. I mean . . . could you imagine?”

BOOK: The Anchor
6.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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