I glance over at her. “Nope. Think about it—your belly is bigger than a house and you’re putting even more stuff in there. Something’s gotta give.”
She laughs, and the tension in her shoulders lessens. “That’s the most nonmedical thing I’ve ever heard.”
It’s good that she’s relaxing a little. “Medicine doesn’t have to sound medical. It just has to be logical. It’s science.”
“Thank God you didn’t go to med school.”
“Hey, I would’ve made an awesome doctor. Biology was my favorite subject in school.” Even if math wasn’t. Calculus didn’t make any sense to me. Too abstract.
“So why didn’t you?”
“Because a modeling gig came along, and it paid too damn well for me to give up,” I say casually, although I’m watching her. “And I was good at it, too. You can see my photoshoots from before.”
“That you are.” She tries to smile, but fails. Probably still too tense. She won’t relax until her friend delivers twins safe and sound.
The second my car stops, Yuna says, “Thank you,” and rushes inside.
I watch her disappear. Her soul sister is a damn lucky woman to have the love and devotion of somebody like Yuna. I start to turn around, then notice Yuna’s bag lying on the floor of the car.
I text her to see if she at least took her phone. Something pings in her purse.
All right, then. I park the car and carry her bag inside. I follow the signs and locate the huge maternity ward. I scan the crowd quickly. Lots of people rushing about, but no Yuna.
But maybe her “sister” is in a private room instead of one of the usual areas. What did she say the expectant mom’s name was? Ivy…something. I can’t recall the last name. Shit.
A stylishly dressed brunette carrying eight drinks and a box of donuts stops, then clears her throat. “Are you…Declan Winters?”
“Yes,” I say cautiously. Hopefully she isn’t a fan with zero sense or manners. I’ve had one too many crazies, and this maternity ward doesn’t need a stalkerish woman.
“Oh, cool. I was just wondering. You really do look as good as in the pictures and Pushing His Buttons. It’s one of my favorite shows. If you don’t mind, I’d love an autograph later.”
“Thank you, and it’s no problem at all,” I say, relieved she seems normal. No weird sparkling in her eyes or anything.
“I’m Josephine, but you can call me Jo.” She smiles. “I’d shake, but my hands are full. Anyway, I’m friends with Yuna, and she said she left her bag with her boss. That’s her bag you’re holding, right?”
Well, this makes it easier. “Yeah.”
“Don’t you just adore that gold grand piano pendant?”
I glance down at the bag. Sure enough, there is a pendant in the shape of a piano. It has diamonds and onyx embedded for the keys. Totally Yuna.
“I wanted one, but she told me it’s a custom item she got from her mother.” She smiles sheepishly. “What am I doing? I’m sure you’re busy. Let me take the bag so I can give it to her.”
I look at all the drinks and donuts and the purse she’s already toting. “Actually, why don’t I help carry some of that?”
“Thank you.” She hands me the donuts. “I was going to ask Yuna to come with, but she was too anxious.”
Jo leads me around a corner and down to a large suite at the end of the hall. It’s full of people. I see several couples…and Yuna.
Jo wasn’t exaggerating when she said Yuna wasn’t doing well. She’s pacing and keeps clenching and unclenching her hands. At least she’s not Googling all the things that could go wrong and freaking out about them.
After placing the box of donuts on the coffee table, I hurry over.
She stares at me wide-eyed. “What are you doing here?”
I lift the hand holding her bag. “You left this in the car.”
“Oh. Thanks…and sorry about that,” she says, taking the bag. “How did you find me?”