Peaches & the Duke - Ginger Voight Page 0,35

warm handshakes and a happy smile. Coffee, tea, anything we wanted. It was white glove treatment all the way.

It was amazing how happy they were to see you when you had money to deposit.

He also had quite a bit of input on how to allocate my windfall. By the time we left, both Fern and I had savings accounts, retirement accounts and lines of credit.

The certainty I felt in that moment was worth the uncertainty I had been feeling about the next twenty years. No matter what happened with Auggie and this book, my child would be cared for. I could quit my job at Headliner Pulse and never rely on Christopher for one thin dime.

That was worth everything, because I was beyond certain that he’d do everything in his power to weasel out of taking any responsibility. This way we could avoid the unnecessary drama. I could safely say that I didn’t need him, for anything.

All I had to do now was write a great book so Auggie wouldn’t take it all back.

No pressure.

Having no limits on the money meant we didn’t have to shop at discount stores or more mainstream department stores, which was bittersweet if I’m being honest. I loved finding a good bargain and prided myself on making something exceptional out of the ordinary. If that meant I dressed out of season, so be it. In fact, I often dressed retro on purpose. I recently went through a Dapper Flapper phase that was loads of fun, with a wardrobe I had salvaged from different thrift shops, using my own sewing skills to alter to my tastes accordingly.

But this was before I was keeping company with a prince and rock star known as the Duke of Mayhem. What I would wear now was a total mystery, stuck somewhere between sophisticated journalist and incidental groupie. I mentioned as much to Fern.

“If anybody can pull this off, it’s you,” she replied. “You’re a freaking chameleon anyway.” She toyed with my hair, inspecting the last dye job. “Start with a new do and go from there.” Her brow furrowed. “Can you dye your hair right now?”

I hadn’t really thought about it. Everything was all still so brand new. I hadn’t even gone for my first appointment with the obstetrician, which was scheduled a few days before we flew to New York. Both of us got on our phones to research, quickly learning that while dying one’s hair wasn’t necessarily unsafe for pregnant women, it was advised to wait till the second trimester, after the organs were formed.

It was heady to think about what miraculous work was going on inside my body at that moment. Probably explained why I was so freaking tired all the time.

“Okay, so you can’t color. Maybe cut it shorter?”

I shrugged. “I don’t want to go too crazy,” I hedged, though I really didn’t know why. For some inexplicable reason, I didn’t want to do anything that might put Auggie off, even when it was clear that was a relationship I wouldn’t be pursuing.

Yes, he gave me butterflies. Yes, he had kissed me—and it had been one hell of a kiss.

But that was before he knew about the baby. I couldn’t see the Duke of Mayhem settling down for diaper duty, especially when I was no more than a convenient piece of ass. He had basically said so himself.

He had been nothing but proper ever since my declaration.

Did I dream about him? Sure, but that was to be expected. He was a freaking prince, who happened to fall on every “Sexiest Royal” and “Most Eligible Bachelor” list that came down the pike.

I shook my head of such thoughts. They would not serve me now. I had one job to do and that was tell his story.

To that end, I decided on a cute little bob haircut that made me feel all brainy and competent. The clothes I selected followed suit. Nothing stuffy, that wasn’t me, but definitely a more collegiate look with lots of layering that I suspected would keep my little Peanut a secret for as long as possible.

That wasn’t to say I wasn’t drawn to the baby stuff. I even stopped to look at a few items, just because they were so damned cute. I desperately wanted to get something, anything, to make the concept of my child a little more tangible. I pacified myself with the idea of online shopping later, in the privacy of my home.

After a few stores, however, I decided online

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