92-Past Prediction

**PIPPA**

Dr. Chopra had held me like a sister until my tears ran out, assuring me that everything would be fine. She patted my back, and made soothing noises. Just what I needed at such a time. I thought of my mom, both of them actually.

And not for the first time, I wished I had them by my side.

It took me longer than a minute to calm myself enough to where I could focus.

Dr. Chopra, had continued to be sympathetic. She spoke in low tones as I set up an appointment to confirm my pregnancy.

When that was arrange, the doctor confirmed that the clinic I had gone to had been one of a handful in the state found to have administered a batch of ineffective shots.

Dr. Chopra had asked if I hadn’t gotten a letter stating so.

I sheepishly confirmed I had. I didn’t place blame on anyone but myself for not keeping better track of my mail. I knew full well how absentminded Jenna is about such things, so my condition is my fault.

*If I have a condition.*

In any case, I will see Dr. Chopra tomorrow to find out for sure.

However, I already know the answer. Her look confirmed it. The heaviness of my body does as well.

I try not to dwell on it too much until the facts are confirmed.

I just have to wait.

And while I do, I enjoy the attention Xaver lavishes upon me.

These past two days, he has been at home, watching my every move as if I might shatter before his eyes. He has showered me with attention and love. Like serving me food, massaging my feet, and taking over the nightly duty of twisting my hair.

Wherever I am, he is. We work well together, each doing our own thing, throwing smiles back and forth until it is time to stop for the day.

At night, we lie in bed and watch TV, with me falling asleep in his arms.

I have wanted to go in to the office for the last two days, but Xaver has insisted, and perhaps rightly so, that I either stay in bed, lie on the couch or take an oatmeal bath.

An hour after Dr. Chopra left, he handed me several pairs of cotton briefs and the exact sachets Dr. Chopra had recommended. I don’t know how he got them, given the lateness of the hour.

“Are you ready for lunch?” Xaver says, holding a tray containing PB&J, an apple, and a small garden salad with ranch dressing. An odd combination, sure.

I stifle a giggle when I think my cravings will only get worse.

Nodding, I give Xaver a grateful smile, touching his hand as he sets the tray on my thighs. He partially unfurls the linen napkin, laying it halfway on my lap. He then arranges the salt and pepper shakers haphazardly near my plate. His emulation of an experienced waiter could use work.

“Don’t quit your day job, Xaver,” I tell him mockingly, faux-affronted by his boorish efforts.

He throws me a cocky grin, full of teeth.

I roll my eyes and turn my attention to the food. After saying a quick blessing, I dive in.

Mrs. Lettner makes her own ranch dressing with crushed peppercorns, and it makes me want to jump up and slap someone, it is so good.

Xaver interrupts my eating bliss with, “Do you think you are ready to go in to the office tomorrow? Don’t feel you have to. If you are not up to it, I can go in for a few meetings and come right back here.”

I quickly chew the crunchy cucumber in my mouth so I can answer. “Trust me, I am fine.”

He nods. "How are things with the launch? Everything on schedule?

I swallow what is in my mouth. “It is good to go, Mr. Sayle.”

He laughs and instead of joining in, melancholy hits me and my eyes well with tears.

What if he is disappointed? Or worse yet… what if he proposes to me like how he did Sonia? Proposing because he feels he has to, not because we are right together?

I don’t want him, under those circumstances. I don’t want a pity marriage. I want a real one.

“Hey, Pippa. Are you okay?” Xaver crouches down to peer in my face, touching his cool hand to my forehead. He scowls. “You’re warm. You’ve been overdoing it.” He gets to his feet. I reach for his hand, stopping him.

“I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“About the launch?” He rubs his free hand across the back of his neck, his eyes focused on me.

He is worried, and my heart swells because of his concern.

“Look, Pippa… if it is too much right now—”

“Xaver, please. I’m just pr… preoccupied is all.”

Pregnancy hormones are what’s wrong. Short flashes of heat surge throughout my body, usually around lunchtime.

It is normal. I Googled it to make sure.

I just wish I was sure about us.

An alarm beeps on Xaver’s phone. “My conference call with England is in a few minutes. Can I get you anything before it starts?”

*So sweet.*

*Will he be that way after you tell him?*

“No,” I say, and answering my question sends a chill of foreboding down my spine.

I had made my appointment with Dr. Chopra as close to regular lunch as I could. That way, I can get away without being questioned.

I wave goodbye to Kat, who is on the phone with Mike. She returns my wave with a shooing gesture.

Rounding the corner, I almost bump into a haggard-looking Craig Farkas, who doesn’t look left or right. I watch him enter Xaver’s office and shut the door.

As Xaver and I have been out of the office for the last two days, I had forgotten Craig was back from his trip.

My stomach clenches when I think what will happen. Craig will find out I talked to HR. He won’t be pleased when Xaver tells him to stay away from me.

I can’t worry about what will happen with him. Xaver will straighten him out, and that will put an end to it.

***

**XAVER**

Craig comes into my office wearing a broad grin. He swaggers to a chair and settles in it like he will be here for a while.

I come out from behind my desk and perch on the edge.

“The Chilean government agreed to everything we’ve asked for.” He gives me a smug smile and I want to smash it from his face. “I sent you and Legal the file. My timeline and contacts, too.”

I’m glad he got right to the point, because I’m already sick of looking at him.

“Great job, Craig.” And I mean it. My soon-to-be former CFO is a top negotiator. Too bad he’s also a world-class perverted prick.

A rush of satisfaction fills me when I say, “I want you to clean out your desk. You’re fired.”

He laughs for a few seconds, until my cold expression, along with my words, sink into his brain.

His face freezes. “What the hell? What do you mean, Sayle?”

I ignore his question. I’ll let HR and Legal deal with him from now on. He’ll face corporate theft charges, along with the sexual harassment case.

“Get out of my office.” I point to the door, half hoping he’ll leave without a fuss, half hoping he’ll take a swing, so I can beat his ass.

Craig jumps from his chair and gets so close, I notice something dark, like a charred piece of food, on one of his molars.

“You can’t fire me!”

“The hell, I can’t.”

“Fuck you, Sayle.” He pokes me in the chest. I grin.

He has given me the match to light the ammunition.

“You’re firing me over that PA bitch— “

I lift his ass up by his suit lapels and, half-dragging him, throw him against the wall. “Don’t say another word against her, you prick. Now, get the fuck out.” I shove him in the door's direction.

The look he throws me is one of pure malice. He moves his mouth like he wants to utter a threat.

I advance on him.

He thinks better of his actions and yanks the door open so hard; it slams against the wall.

Straightening my suit and tie, I tell a wide-eyed Kat to have IT cancel his shit, pronto.