"Good morning, Mom," Samara greeted her.
"Hello, darling." The luxurious carpet swallowed all sound from Asha's pointed-toe stilettos as she crossed the room and kissed Samara on both cheeks, then drew back and ran an approving eye over her nude midi dress and matching nude pumps. "You're looking very lovely this morning."
"Thanks, Mom. So are you." Asha Dubois-Wolf couldn't look bad if she tried.
Her secretary hovered by the door, holding Asha's python leather satchel and cashmere shawl. "Can I bring you some coffee or tea, ma'am?"
"Not yet," Asha declined, peeling off her elbow-length leather gloves. "Can you make sure the conference room is ready for the shareholders' meeting at eight?"
"Yes, ma'am." The secretary turned and hurried off to do her boss's bidding.
Sighing, Asha perched on the edge of Samara's desk and crossed her long legs, winding them around each other with the graceful elegance that was her trademark.
"If I didn't have that meeting this morning, I would have stayed home with Sterling," she confided with a naughty gleam in her eyes. "Lord knows that man didn't make it easy for me to leave the bed this morning."
Samara laughed. "Uh, thanks for sharing."
Asha grinned unabashedly, patting her sleekly coiffed black hair. She and her husband had more sex than many couples half their age. It was ridiculous, but totally in a good way.
Smiling, Samara picked up a tiny remote control and pressed a button that made the glass walls of her office turn opaque.
"Emma says you were looking for me," her mother said.
"I was." Samara's smile widened. "I have something to tell you."
"Oh? What is it?"
Samara wasn't fooled by her mother's mildly inquisitive tone. "You already know, don't you?"
Asha blinked at her. "Know what?"
Unable to contain her excitement a moment longer, Samara jumped to her feet. "I'm pregnant!"
Asha gasped. "You are?"
"Yes!"
"Oh, darling! Congratulations!"
Samara laughed as her mother stood and hugged her fiercely, then drew back and cradled her face in her palms. She was smiling from ear to ear. "This is such wonderful news. Baby number four!"
"I know." Samara beamed. "Remember when I had that false positive test last year?"
"Yes. And I remember how disappointed you and Marcus were, especially Marcus. That man really wants a big family-"
"-to add to an even bigger family," Samara said with a laugh.
Asha chuckled. "Indeed."
"Anyway," Samara continued excitedly, "when my period was late this time, I didn't say a word to Marcus and I didn't bother taking a home pregnancy test. I just went straight to my doctor for a blood test. I got the results yesterday afternoon."
Asha grinned. "And how thrilled was Marcus?"
"I haven't told him yet."
"You haven't?"
"Uh-uh." Samara grinned. "I was going to tell him when he got home from work last night, but then I decided to wait and surprise him for Christmas."
"What a wonderful Christmas gift," her mother enthused. "It's absolutely perfect."
"I think so, too. I mean, what else do you give a man who has everything and can afford anything he wants?"
Asha laughed. "Good point, darling. But I certainly hope you don't intend to keep giving him babies for Christmas?"
"Uh, no." Samara grinned crookedly. "I love having Marcus's rugrats, but after this one I'm getting my tubes tied."
Asha chuckled. "I don't think anyone would fault you for that. Children are a blessing, and I look forward to spoiling my newest grandbaby. But you and Marcus are going to have your hands fuller than ever with four kids. But you're both wonderful parents, so you'll be just fine." She smiled, tenderly caressing Samara's face. "I suspected you might be pregnant, but I didn't want to steal your thunder by coming right out and asking you."
Samara grinned, practically bouncing on her high heels. "I can't wait to tell Marcus. I've been trying to come up with a really creative way to give him the good news. If you have any ideas, I'm all ears."
Asha grinned, her eyes glimmering with excitement. "We'll think of something, darling. Something dramatic and memorable."
"Dramatic and memorable." Samara gave a happy sigh. "That's exactly what I have in mind."
2
"Slow down, baby girl," Marcus laughingly admonished his daughter. "The pizza ain't going nowhere."
Perched on his lap, Milan giggled and clapped her dimpled little hands together. She was dressed all in pink-pink sweater, pink leggings, tiny pink Timbs. Her thick black hair was pulled into two big afro puffs, one over each ear and tied with pink ribbons.
Marcus had cut up a slice of pizza for her, which she was quickly devouring. When she went to grab another piece, he moved the plate out of reach. "Uh-uh. Swallow what's in your mouth first."
The little girl poked her bottom lip out, drawing a hearty rumble of laughter from Michael, Manning and Quentin.
"Baby girl don't mess around with her food," Manning joked.
"Just like Junior." Quentin grinned at his toddler son, who sat beside him in a high chair shoveling bites of pizza into his mouth. "I keep telling y'all these two are soul mates."
Junior flashed a toothy grin at everyone, setting off another round of laughter at the table.
They were having lunch at a popular pizzeria close to Legoland, where the kids had spent several hours building racecars and castles, romping through miniature towns and getting on every ride they could-some more than once.
When they arrived at the restaurant, the waitstaff had pushed three tables together and brought out four high chairs to accommodate their large party. The older children sat at one end chattering animatedly about the day's adventures at Legoland. Matthew, as usual, was the loudest. A close second was eight-year-old Micah, Manning's eldest son. When the two boys started bickering over something or other, their fathers had to intervene, telling them to knock it off.
As the combatants glared sullenly at each other, Michael grinned at Manning. "Do those two remind you of anyone?"
Manning laughed. "We weren't that bad, were we?"
Marcus snorted. "Are you kidding? Y'all were worse."
"Much worse," Quentin agreed, laughing. "Y'all were always arguing and trying to one-up each other."
"I don't know why," Michael drawled. "I was older, smarter, handsomer and a much better athlete. There was no competition. Then or now."
Manning smirked and started to flip him the bird before he remembered there were young children around. "Let's see if you can back up all that trash talking when I get you on the court next weekend."
Michael snort-laughed. "C'mon, son. You don't want none of this."
"Ooh!" the boys hollered, relishing the prospect of a showdown between the two grownups.
Marcus grinned, wagging his head at Michael and Manning. "Way to set an example for the young'uns."
Everyone laughed.
Milan gulped down the rest of her apple juice, then set her sippy cup on the table and wriggled her fingers at the empty plate. "More pizza, Daddy."
"More pizza, what?" Marcus prompted.
She looked back at him with those wide dark eyes that were just like Samara's. "Pleeease?"
Damn if Marcus didn't melt. "Coming right up," he acquiesced.
This drew knowing laughter from Michael, Manning and Quentin. They all had daughters. And they were all, without exception, wrapped around their little girls' fingers.
As soon as she finished eating, six-year-old Malia climbed into Manning's lap and laid her head contentedly on his shoulder. Four-year-old Savannah also found her way to Michael's lap.
When Quentin's infant daughter began dozing off in her high chair, he plucked her out and cuddled her against his broad chest. Although Alexandra Reddick had inherited her father's wavy hair, hazel eyes and golden complexion, her features were unmistakably her mother's. She looked so much like Lexi that Quentin affectionately called her "Lil Lex."
As Milan happily wolfed down more pizza, Marcus smiled across the table at Michael Junior. His adorable nephew sat in a high chair playing with Lego bricks, the corners of his mouth smeared with pizza sauce.
"MJ had a blast building that rocket at Legoland," Marcus said to his brother. "Maybe he's gonna be an engineer like you were before you became a hotshot chef."
Michael grinned, watching his son with quiet pride. "Maybe so."
Matthew and Malcolm got up and ran over to Marcus. "Hey, Dad, can we play video games with Micah and Max?"
"Sure." Marcus fished two crisp twenties out of his wallet and handed them to Matthew. "Get enough tokens for everyone. And make sure you stay where we can see you."
"We will. Thanks, Dad!" The four boys raced off toward the gaming area.
Marcus grinned at the others. "I'm surprised none of our wives have called to check up on us. Not even Reese."
Michael chuckled. "Only because she's been delivering babies all day."
Manning grinned. "Taylor's teaching at a music symposium, so she hasn't had time to call either."