Page 16 of Maximum Bet

I’m getting used to the curious stares, enough so that I hold my head high and ignore the onlookers as I browse the windows of boutiques.

“Cassie,” Sadie calls to me before I spot her. She’s glowing in a pair of white linen maternity pants and a blue, flowy, sleeveless top with a floral pattern. Her auburn hair is pulled intoa smooth ponytail, and her eyes are hidden behind oversized sunglasses.

I rush to my friend, wrapping her in a hug as I mutter my hello. “You look gorgeous,” I say, stepping back and spreading my arms. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen pregnancy suit a woman as well as it suits you.”

She laughs and waves me off. “It’s just because the morning sickness has passed. Everyone keeps telling me I’m in the sweet spot, that in a couple of months I’m going to feel like an uncomfortable whale.”

“I’m glad the people you’re talking to are giving you something to look forward to.” I laugh and hook my arm through hers.

She shakes her head, her ponytail swishing side to side. “The baby is what I have to look forward to.”

“There’s a store I spotted when I was walking over here that I want to stop in.” With Adam trailing behind, I lead Sadie in the direction I came from. “There was a top in the window that I loved.”

We begin our hunt through a mix of luxury and boutique shops, all of which cater to entrepreneurs and their wives and girlfriends who roll through Las Vegas. Sadie focuses on accessories, while I find a gorgeous gold spaghetti-strap blouse and sandals to match. I have the perfect skirt to pair with them in my ever-growing wardrobe.

After a few stores, we walk through the main thoroughfare, and Sadie halts, a wide grin forming on her face.

“We have to go in here,” she says, giving me no chance to counter before she rushes inside the shop to our right.

I follow her in, my eyes adjusting as I lift my sunglasses to rest them on top of my head.

When I realize where we are, my heart flutters, and a longing blooms in my chest.

“Cassie, look,” Sadie squeals. “Aren’t these adorable?” She’s holding up a pair of the tiniest loafers I’ve ever seen. “They would go perfectly with this.” She gestures to an outfit on a small mannequin—khakis, a white-collared shirt, and a red plaid vest.

“Your son is going to be the most dapper kid at daycare,” I tease.

“Oh, my God. They have swim trunks with little sharks.” Sadie is sifting through beachwear before I can get past the display of toddler-sized suits.

Sliding my fingers over a jacket, I raise my brows. “Are these kids attending business meetings?”

“Those are for special events,” Sadie says, swim trunks and a sun hat in hand. “They have flip-flops!”

While she continues shopping for her son’s summer wardrobe, I wander through the store, gathering ideas for baby shower gifts. I spot a onesie covered in caterpillars that says, “Mom’s cuddle bug,” and tuck it away in my memory to send one of Dominic’s assistants to pick up for Sadie’s shower.

As I pass from the boys section to the girls, something tugs at my gut. The frills and pastels are too adorable to ignore, and, not for the first time, I wish I had my own little girl to shop for.

“Oh, wow.” Sadie appears beside me as I admire a knit sweater with pink bows. “How sweet is this?”

I turn to my friend, and my breath catches as I take in the dress she holds in the air. It’s short-sleeved with an empire waist secured by a rose-colored ribbon. The petticoat-style skirt flares, but it’s the print on the white fabric that makes my heart melt.

Ballerinas dance en pointe, twirling and leaping, some tossing garlands in the air. Their tutus are the traditional pancake style that I spent so much of my life performingin.

“If I were having a girl, this would be the first thing she wore when I brought her home,” Sadie says. We share a background in classical ballet, though she left her company long before I left mine.

“God, I love this.” I take the garment from her, checking the price tag out of habit. Eighty-four dollars, not a charge Dominic would even notice on the statement for his black AmEx.

For a moment, I indulge in the fantasy of having a little girl of my own—one whom I could teach to dance, explain pliés and tendus to. I could be one of the moms watching through the glass of the preschool ballet and tap classes while she learned to leap and turn. She would finish class with the improvisational scarf dance that all young ballerinas love.

I could buy this dress and keep it for the future.

I could hide it in the back of my closet until I’m ready to use it.

That wouldn’t be weird, would it?

Sadie sighs, removing the dress from my hands and replacing it on the rack. “Let’s just hope someone has a daughter soon so we can come back and buy it for a shower gift. That’s a dress that deserves to be worn. Hey, maybe Amanda will come back from her honeymoon pregnant.”

Sadie grins, and my chest tightens with jealousy.