Mother Load by K.G. MacGregor

three-year span to celebrate the 507, BMW’s classic roadster. She almost hated taking it out on rainy days like this one, but the detailers back at her BMW lot would clean it up the minute she returned.
    The very idea of giving up her Z8 for a sedan was laughable. Auto collectors had offered her up to three hundred thousand dollars for this vintage vehicle, but she wouldn’t bite. At least they understood its worth. To Lily, it was just a car to go from Point A to B, but to Anna it was the pinnacle of both design and performance in automation. If they had room for a third car in the garage, she would gladly pick up another, something that would hold a car seat for the baby and a booster seat for Andy. Though he no longer required a booster according to California law, he still liked using one whenever he was relegated to the backseat so he could see out the windows without straining. He wasn’t the sort of child who busied himself with toys or games in the car. He wanted to watch the traffic so he could see what others were driving. Anna understood that perfectly because she had been the same way as a child.
    She pulled into her usual space next to her father’s Imperial Blue 760Li sedan and turned off the engine, making no move to climb out into the rain. The events of the morning had taken a toll and she needed a moment to regroup. Beth’s request that Lily return for a second sonogram had scared her half to death, but when she saw how frightened Lily was she had tamped down her own fears and gathered herself. Lily seemed to feed off her reaction to things, and staying calm would go a long way toward keeping her worries at bay. Once they parted in the parking garage Anna dropped the façade and mentally ticked off the things that had set her on edge—Beth’s puzzled demeanor as she fumbled to find their baby’s heartbeat, her apparent surprise at the size and shape of the image they were seeing, and the way she seemed to hesitate when they asked questions. None of it added up to panic, especially since she had given them the go-ahead to share the news of their pregnancy, but something was…what word had she used…hinky.
    The rain let up for several seconds and she made a mad dash to the back door of the showroom, unable to avoid splashing through a large puddle that had gathered directly behind her car. With soggy feet, she carefully crossed the tile floor of the showroom, where Marco Gonzalez, her VW sales manager, had arranged their flashiest lineup—the CC, which was Volkswagen’s largest sedan, the Beetle convertible, the SUV Taureg, and…a minivan?
    “Hey, Anna.” Marco greeted her with a broad smile. With his short dark hair and brown eyes, he cut a handsome figure in his starched white shirt and striped BMW tie. He set the perfect example of professionalism for his sales staff with his appearance, expertise and friendly manner, and Anna often imagined Andy would develop that same look when he got older. Marco was only thirty-four years old, but he had grown quickly into his job soon after Anna acquired the dealership and ushered the rude, lazy Tommy Russell out the door. She had been impressed with Marco’s enthusiasm and passion for cars, and especially by his hunger to learn everything he could about the car business. For the past three years he had matured under her father’s tutelage, and now it was time to move him up.
    “Marco, what’s this?” she asked, gesturing toward a white Routan, Volkswagen’s seven-passenger minivan. “Since when do we park minivans in the showroom?”
    “Since this is the vehicle more people want to see and they don’t want to get wet looking at it.”
    “People are buying these?” She poked her head in through the open side door and looked around. “You could carry a whole soccer team in here.”
    “That’s the idea. Families like them because the kids can spread out. Look.” He pressed a button on the rear console and a screen lowered just behind the