The CEO Above My Desk Chapter 202

***Violet***

The waiting room smelled like burnt coffee, sanitizer, and exhaustion.

Camille sat curled up beside me in one of the uncomfortable blue hospital chairs with her shoes kicked off and her legs folded awkwardly beneath her while aggressively scrolling through baby websites on her phone.

Not casually browsing. Aggressively browsing. Like the babies were arriving tomorrow instead of months from now.

“Oh my God,” she whispered dramatically beside me. “Tiny dinosaur pajamas.”

I blinked slowly toward her. “You’re crying again.”

“I know.”

“You’ve cried seven times today.”

“They’re little dinosaurs, Violet.”

From what the doctors said so far, Devin mostly had bruised ribs and facial bruising thankfully, but one of the nurses mentioned possible fractures near his side and wanted imaging done just to make sure nothing shifted internally.

Still though…

Asher beat the hell out of him.

And the fact that he casually showed up at Devin’s apartment before disappearing into the void somewhere made my skin crawl.

Theo and Rowan were both still back in Devin’s room talking quietly with him while doctors and nurses moved in and out occasionally.

I could see them faintly through the partially cracked doorway down the hall.

Theo pacing.

Devin looking annoyed at being alive.

Rowan standing near the window with that sharp focused expression that usually meant somebody was about to have a very bad day.

Camille gasped beside me suddenly. “Oh my God there’s tiny sheep slippers.”

“You’re nesting aggressively.”

“I’m emotionally preparing.”

“For what?”

“For maximum baby cuteness.”

I snorted softly despite myself before leaning farther back in the waiting room chair.

Movement down the hallway caught my attention then.

Rowan stepped out of Devin’s room with his phone pressed to his ear while rubbing one hand slowly across his jaw.

Business face.

Interesting.

I watched him walk slowly toward the cafeteria area while speaking quietly into the phone. “The permits are still temporarily on hold, yes.” A pause. “No, development is still approved overall.”

Another pause.

His expression tightened slightly now. “Waiting on city council authorization doesn’t concern me right now,” he said calmly. “I was already assured the delay shouldn’t last long.”

That caught my attention immediately.

The housing project. Even now. Even after all of this chaos. He was still trying to build it. Still pushing forward. Still refusing to let Hargrove win.

Something about that made my chest ache a little.

Camille glanced up briefly from her phone. “He literally cannot stop working.”

“Nope.”

“He’s probably negotiating construction permits while standing next to a vending machine.”

Probably.

I looked back down toward my own phone slowly afterward.

The screen lit up immediately.

Missed notifications.

News alerts.

Messages.

I ignored all of them. Because suddenly… None of that felt important right now. Not compared to this.

My thumb hovered briefly before finally opening the local OBGYN office website.

And immediately my stomach flipped.

The appointment booking page loaded slowly while I stared at it longer than I probably should have.

First ultrasound consultation.

Availability:

Tuesday.

Wednesday.

Friday.

My chest tightened strangely.

Because this wasn’t hypothetical anymore. Not emotionally Not physically.

There was actually a baby. A real baby. Mine and Rowan’s.

Camille glanced over immediately. “Oh my God are you booking it?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

Her entire expression softened instantly.

And then of course... She started crying again. “Camille.”

“I can’t help it.”

“You’re literally tearing up over a scheduling page.”

“This is emotional.”

I stared down at the screen quietly for another second before finally clicking the earliest available appointment.

Wednesday.

11:00 AM.

The confirmation page popped up immediately afterward.

Appointment Scheduled.

And weirdly enough…

Out of everything happening right now...

The FBI.

The corruption.

Asher running.

The city falling apart.

That felt more important than all of it.

I stared down at my confirmation page quietly for another second before looking over toward Camille again.

She was still sniffling while scrolling through baby blankets now.

One had ducks on it.

She cried harder over the ducks.

“Camille.”

She looked up immediately with watery eyes. “What?”

“You should schedule your appointment too.”

Her expression shifted instantly.

Nervous now.

“Oh.”

I tilted my head slightly toward her phone.

“You need to anyway,” I pointed out softly. “And if we do it on the same day, we can just go together.”

Camille blinked once.

Then twice.

“You wanna go together?”

“Well yeah.” I shrugged slightly. “We have the week off. Might as well use it to our advantage.”

Her entire expression softened almost painfully after that.

Pregnancy hormones really were beating her ass right now.

“Okay,” she whispered quietly.

I watched while she nervously opened the same clinic website and started filling out the appointment information beside me.

Watching her hands shake slightly made my chest tighten a little.

Because despite all the joking and crying over dinosaur pajamas…

I think Camille was scared too. Not terrified. But overwhelmed.

We both were.

She finally clicked through the available appointment times before looking over toward me again. “There’s one tomorrow morning at nine.”

I glanced toward the screen.

Wednesday.

9:00 AM.

Then mine:

11:00 AM.

That timing worked almost perfectly.

“Book it,” I told her quietly.

Camille took a deep breath before finally clicking confirm.

The second the confirmation page appeared, she stared at it silently for a second before whispering:

“Oh my God.”

Yeah. Exactly.

I leaned back farther into the waiting room chair afterward before opening my own email confirmation.

Without even really thinking about it, I forwarded the appointment information directly to Rowan.

Then underneath it, I typed quickly:

*Camille scheduled hers too. 9am tomorrow. Mine is at 11am. Tell Theo before she cries over baby socks again.*

I hit send before I could overthink it.

As Camille went back to scrolling through baby websites beside me, I found myself studying her more carefully now.

Because something felt… Off. Not bad off.

Just… Different.

She was emotional sure, but this felt bigger than hormones. The constant crying The exhaustion The way she kept absently rubbing her stomach without realizing it.

My eyes narrowed slightly. “How late was your period exactly?”

Camille froze. Uh oh.

Slowly, she looked up from her phone. “…I don’t know.”

That immediately concerned me. “You don’t know?”

“We’ve been busy!”

“Camille.”

“I’m serious,” she defended quickly. “Everything with Hargrove and the company and the FBI happened and then we found out we were pregnant and I genuinely don’t remember.”

Oh.

Oh no.

A thought slowly started forming in my head. “What if you’re farther along than we thought?”

Camille blinked once. Then immediately looked horrified.

“Oh my God.”

Yeah.

That was about my reaction too.

Because suddenly, the extreme emotions, the exhaustion, the attachment to tiny duck blankets… made a little more sense.

Camille stared down at her stomach slowly now. “Oh my God,” she whispered again, sounding genuinely overwhelmed this time. “What if I’m like… actually pregnant pregnant?”

I stared at her. “You are literally already pregnant.”

“You know what I mean!” she hissed dramatically.