Chapter Two

“Chica, you screwed up,” Darlene “Dee” Perez said with all honesty and little fanfare as she propped her tiny size five-and-a-half feet on her boss’s desk.

“I’m well aware of that. So this is why I pay you such a generous bonus every year? For you to tell me things I already know?” Pia asked, ignoring her secretary’s physical and verbal informality. After six years of daily contact with this petite Latina, Pia often wondered just who was in charge.

“No, you pay me the generous bonus because not only am I one hell of a great assistant from nine to five but because I’m willing to sit here after hours talking about your pathetic love life.”

“Hey, insubordination is a fireable offense,” Pia threatened with mock bravado. But they both knew there was no bite behind her bark. Darlene was way more than Pia’s employee. She was the heartbeat that kept things running smoothly while Pia was out on the road. Darlene managed to out-diva the divas and sweet-talk the suits, and all the while make her manager look good. Dee was also her closest confidante and the sister Pia wished she had. Twice she’d tried to promote the woman, but Darlene refused, choosing instead to enjoy the best of both her worlds—an exciting, glamorous, and manageable-stress-level job she enjoyed and a happy home life with a hunky husband she adored.

“Touchy, touchy. Now, like I said, you screwed up. The plan was to rekindle the interest, go on a few dates, get to know each other better, and then, maybe, if it felt right, after a few months, approach the baby subject. You weren’t supposed to go in there with both ovaries loaded, shake his hand, and ask to borrow a cup of sperm. No wonder the man took off running.”

“I know, and believe me, I felt like a real ass just spitting it out like that.”

“Maybe it’s time for Plan B,” Dee suggested.

“I didn’t know there was a Plan B.”

“Plan B: Make sure you’re fertile. Get drunk. Find a nice guy at a bar, take him home, do the deed, and make a baby. No fuss, no messy strings attached. You’re a mommy and he’s none the wiser.”

“There are so many holes in that strategy, I don’t even know where to begin,” Pia replied.

“Just go with the top three. I’m still a newlywed. I need to get home early.”

“You’ve been married three years, and Hector is in Iraq.”

“Yes, and I should be home writing my brave husband who is fighting for freedom and your right to have a baby out of wedlock. Now, back to your reasons for not going with Plan B.”

“First, I’m not going to just screw any stranger. I’m trying to get pregnant, so that right there kind of discounts safe sex, now doesn’t it? I mean, I am dying to have a baby but there ain’t no way I’m dying to have a baby.”

“Pick a nice bar where nice guys go.”

“Haven’t you seen and heard the PSAs? You can’t tell just by looking. It’s just not safe.”

“And reasons two and three?”

“Reason two: It’s not fair to jerk a guy around like that. I think it’s only right that the father is a willing participant. And it’s the only fair thing for the baby, especially if he or she wants to know who the father is at some point.”

“Okay, both are valid. And three?”

“Because maybe this whole plan is just crazy,” Pia pronounced.

“It’s not so crazy that an old chick like you would want to have a baby.”

“I’m not that old.”

“Look, chica, the facts are the facts. You’re over forty and, according to Dr. Montrae, with all your fibroid issues the factory may be closed before it even opens. It doesn’t seem crazy at all that you want to get into production before it’s too late.”

“But…?” Pia asked, already knowing the topic of the next barrage of comments and advice that was to be thrown her way.

“But what does seem muy loco is this love/hate thing you’ve got going with men. And I still don’t understand how a pretty girl like you doesn’t like sex…not with boys or girls. Those are the two biggies you’re going to need to get over if this baby-making is ever going to happen.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I don’t hate men, I just hate the games they play? Men and I just don’t seem to get along beyond the bedroom, and that’s not enough for me.

“And I happen to love sex, but not at the price of my sanity. I don’t plan to be celibate forever. Just until sex isn’t a game but part of a real loving relationship.”

“Or until you find yourself a baby daddy.”

“Exactly.”

“But you messed up with Theo, which means only Grand Nelson is left on the papi list.”

“Which means?” Pia inquired, suspicion coloring her query.

“Means it’s time to change up,” Dee declared, looking inquisitively at her boss. “You’re not ready yet. I think it’s time to bring in some professional help. You’re rusty, chica, and I hate to think what kind of shape that chocha of yours is in. You must pee dust.”

“What are you brewing up in that sick little mind of yours, Darlene?”

“Nothing yet, but I’ll think of something,” Dee promised before returning to her own desk.

Pia plopped down on the office couch in a swirl of disgust. She hated to admit it, and would never do so out loud, but she was actually hoping Darlene would come up with something, because her flirt gene was severely atrophied and she was teetering on the verge of becoming some sort of a sexual nerd. And as the tick-tick-tick of her biological clock kept reminding her, time was running out.