Voula Pavlopoulos won't be planning a big fat Greek wedding anytime soon.
After a turbulent childhood and two-and-a-half former boyfriends—if you can call them that—Voula's content to have alone time in her crowded apartment and drinks with her best friend, Jamie (who's never been one of those married people who ditches her pals). Voula doesn't see it coming when Jamie says the two grossest words in the English language Voula can possibly imagine—"We're trying."
Of course, after "We're trying" comes "We're pregnant." Now, Jamie's busy with Lamaze class and besieged by swollen ankles, while Voula is becoming an expert on what to expect when your former wild-and-crazy girlfriend is expecting.
Well, Voula's tired of sitting on the sidelines of life and has decided she'd better start living it. First step: Stop being her mother's doormat. Second step: Stop being so picky and give a guy a chance. But most importantly: It's time to say goodbye to Armando, her Italian stallion roommate, and whoever else is living in their third bedroom. That's right—she is going to buy a place. There are three and a half million apartments in Manhattan. Finding the right one can't be that hard. Can it?
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