P.S. You're Intolerable (The Harder They Fall, #3)(11)

“Sorry, darling.” Davida squeezed my shoulder. “We’re just so excited to be daddies.”

I rolled my eyes. Since Liam had gone back to Australia for an indefinite period of time, which I was really hoping would end soon, Davida and Raymond had declared themselves Baby Girl’s new dads.

She could have done worse…but she could have done a lot better. I wasn’t sure I’d trust either of them to help keep a fish alive, let alone a baby.

Not that I had any experience in either, but I was banking on instinct kicking in.

Raymond waved me off. “I guess we should be thanking you for the chairs. Mine is more luxurious than my butt knows what to do with.”

Davida continued dunking her tea bag in hot water. “I’m surprised Elliot sprung for top of the line.”

“Why would you thank me?” I asked.

Raymond exhaled heavily like he was tired of explaining everything to me. “Because everyone on this floor has seen you struggle busing your pretty butt out of your chair every time you stand and rubbing your spine like you just got off the rack.”

My hands went to my hips, which only pushed my belly out further, greatly impacting my attempt to give attitude. “Granted, I’m not as graceful as I once was, but I don’t struggle to get out of my seat, Raymond.”

“Sure, Kit, but don’t deny you’ve been in pain,” he argued.

I let my hands drop, attitude gone. “Yeah, but it was because of the chair, not my slightly misshapen body.”

Davida’s spoon tinked on the inside of her mug as she stirred her tea. “Which Elliot noticed. Obviously.”

I spun to her. “Why obviously?”

She brought her mug to her lips. “We’ve needed to upgrade our chairs for ages. The previous ones were aesthetically pleasing, but as you know, they were torture devices. I’m a hundred-percent sure the comfort of the assistants on the executive floor had never been a concern of Elliot’s…until you.”

I didn’t believe Elliot replaced all the assistants’ chairs just so I could have a new one. It didn’t make any sense.

If he had…that would have been an incredibly kind gesture.

When I sat down at my desk to write his schedule, my postscript was a little different.

P.S. You’re slightly more tolerable than usual.

I sliced it off the bottom and tucked it away with the others. Elliot arrived moments later, barely acknowledging me, as usual.

I followed him into his office, slipping the schedule on his desk. Elliot powered on his computer, moving his mouse around.

Absently, I pinched the fabric of my dress, pulling it away from my stomach. It was tighter than it had been a week ago, which was frustrating.

Click, click.

Dear god, how could he be annoyed with me already? I hadn’t said anything other than good morning.

“Thank you for the new chair. It’s wonderful.”

His glance slid over me, from my lap to my face. “What makes you think I gave you a new chair?”

“Well, this is your company, so I assumed…”

One of his brows rose. He had this talent of looking dubious with only the flick of his forehead muscles. He often cast this expression on those he did business with, but I’d been privy to it from time to time as well.

“I don’t know why you would assume I have anything to do with ordering chairs.”

Crimson suffused his cheeks, and I wondered just how pissed off he was that I’d implied he would actually do something nice for me…and the rest of the assistants on this floor.

I tapped the end of my pen on my notebook, really wanting to tap his forehead and tell him he could have just accepted the thanks without getting mad.

Then, sucking in a breath, I adjusted my dress and put my game face on. “Anyway, the chair is nice. If you happen to know who chose them, please give them my appreciation.”

“I’m sure I have more important things to do than that.” He nodded toward the schedule in front of him. “As you’re aware.”

“Of course. Thankfulness is overrated anyway.” Oops, the sarcasm had escaped.

Elliot steepled his hands beneath his chin, observing me through slit eyes. “Do you have a problem with my manners, Catherine?”

“I don’t, Elliot.” I tugged down on my dress harder than necessary. “Now, do you have anything I should know about today?”

The meeting went on as usual after that. Until the end, when I asked him if there was anything else.

Elliot peered at me for a long moment. “You can’t come to work in that dress again. It no longer fits you, and you wore it three days last week.”

My mouth fell open.

He wasn’t wrong. I was all too aware I’d squeezed myself into one of the last pieces of clothing that still stretched over my belly, aside from Liam’s old T-shirts.

Living inside this body completely alien to me was bad enough. I was off balance, barely sleeping, hungry enough at all hours to gnaw my own arm off, my emotions out of control—and now this? I thought I’d done well by wearing all black. If I needed to repeat outfits, it wouldn’t be so obvious.

But Elliot had noticed, and it hurt my feelings. I hated that he was capable of hurting my feelings. Lately, they were just as swollen as the rest of me.

“I—” I had to swallow three times before I could force any words out. “Okay,” I managed to rasp.