Page 1 of Pregnancy Scandal
Chapter 1
Abby
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“You lucky thing, look at you in your little dress.” Bella ran her gaze over me and shook her head.
“I know, right?” Porsha agreed. “Now we have every reason to be super jealous. I don’t think I’ll be able to fit into my clothes ever again.”
I stifled a groan and gave my friends a smile. Better to smile at them when they said things like that. Better to humor them because they thought wholeheartedly that it was me whose life was good at the moment and not them.
Bella was nearly nine months pregnant and looked like she was ready to pop. Porsha was four months pregnant. She got married in the fall last year, practically a few months after announcing her engagement.
Weddings and babies, that was what filled the lives of my two close friends from high school.
“Porsha, dear, I am certain with the extent of your love for running and working out that you’ll snap right back into shape and fit in your little dresses in no time,” I replied, pointedly staring at her because my words were true.
Of the three of us, she was the one who worked out the most and had more of an athletic body. Bella and I were the kind of girls who did the bare minimum to keep our bodies looking like the goddesses we were. Porsha, however, took it to the next level to make sure she looked like the queen.
“Whatever, I’m so tired now as it is. I don’t think I’ll be able to do anything when the baby comes.” She ran her freshly manicured hand through her blonde mane and yawned.
Bella laughed at her and stood up, or rather rocked her body from side to side in the beautician chair until she was able to pull herself up.
Porsha started laughing at her. “God, is that what awaits me?”
“Hey, don’t make fun of the more than heavily pregnant. Also, you can’t say you’re tired. Neither of you.” Bella pointed to both of us. “I’m so exhausted my lashes need rest. At least my nails look pretty. I can give birth with some dignity.”
I smiled at that. I’d never known Bella to leave her house if her fingernails and toenails weren’t perfectly manicured.
We’d organized this morning’s getaway for her. Breakfast at the cute little café on Main Street, then the salon for some pampering. I’d taken the day off from work because it was easier, and I had other plans today that I was excited about.
“You can give birth in dignity and look like the hot mama you are,” I told her.
“I can, and you can make sure the new mom and baby pics are decent. You know what Kirk is like. He’ll let anything go, and before I know it, I’ll have all these hideous pics of me all over Facebook and Twitter.”
I giggled, remembering the last time. Kirk had posted a picture of her with a cream mask on her face and her hair a mess. She’d looked like a cross between a troll doll and that meringue mask scene inMrs. Doubtfire.
“Yes, Abby,” Porsha agreed. “You’re the free spirit, so I’m going to put you in charge of my new mom and baby pictures too.”
Free spirit…
Yes, that was me. I couldn’t even get upset anymore or feel hurt. It was stupid to for being told the truth. Iwasthe free spirit.
I’d known these girls since high school, and we’d been the same then. Close.
That was what I called it because I had several categories of friends. I thought people used the term too loosely. So, I was close with them, but we weren’t best friends.
If that were the case, they would have known that I’d felt somehow lost last year when their lives changed so dramatically with news of a wedding and babies while mine didn’t. It changed them. I was thrilled for them, but it had opened my eyes to my own situation.
I came from a very rich family who practically owned Orange County. Speak the name Cartwright anywhere, and people would know who I was and who my family were. We were that kind of family.
My father and uncles owned Cartwright Enterprise, a business empire which included the marketing consultancy firm I worked at with my mother and two sisters.
I was rich, successful, talented, and beautiful, and until last year, very happy with the way my life was.
Then it hit me that something was missing. Something was missing from my life, and it was my fault because of the frivolous lifestyle I’d lived. My friends were the ones who got it right.
And me?
