Craving Him(11)

Once Ellie and I had checked our coats and I tucked the coat-check ticket into my purse, we followed Ben and Bray to the bar to grab a drink. A drink was exactly what I needed in my trembling hands.

The art gallery was a small, intimate gathering. About fifty people mingled, talking and drinking in a narrow room hung with bright colorful paintings on the otherwise white walls.

I clutched the stem of the glass of champagne so hard I thought it might snap off in my hand. I was wound impossibly tight at the prospect of spotting Fiona, laughing and mingling in the crowd. If she approached Ben and tried to air-kiss his cheeks or clutch onto his bicep like she used to, I might lose it. I wondered if it was a felony to attack a pregnant woman. Perhaps if I just explained to the police officer what a megabitch she was, any and all crimes would be pardoned.

Ben, reading my tense posture, guided our group over to a less crowded corner of the gallery.

“Emmy? You okay, sweetie?” Ellie gave me a concerned look.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if I have to face Fiona,” I admitted. Ben caught my eyes and frowned but stayed quiet.

Ellie raised her hand, catching the attention of the waiter circulating with a silver tray of champagne glasses and waved him over to us. “You got anything stronger back at the bar?” she asked.

He nodded. “I think so.”

She pulled a crisp fifty-dollar bill from her wristlet. “Here’s your tip. Keep them coming.”

The waiter arrived with two Jack and Cokes. Ellie handed me both. “Thanks.”

I focused on sucking down the refreshing cocktail through the little straw and let my eyes wander the room. I was grateful at least to be surrounded by Ben, Braydon, and Ellie, who all seemed to be understanding.

After I’d finished my first cocktail, I saw someone trying to catch Ben’s attention. “Will you be okay for a bit? There’s a few people I need to go talk to,” Ben said.

“Of course. I’ll stay with Ellie.” I knew he was here for work, and I didn’t want my insecurities to keep him from doing his job and making the connections he needed.

I watched Ben mingle with a group of men on the far side of the room. I didn’t know who they were but they looked like arty types—photographers, designers, and such. Feeling a little more confident, my gaze wandered. The moment I spotted her, it was like all the air was sucked from the room. I hadn’t been prepared that she’d actually look pregnant, or that she’d have the cutest baby bump ever. My knees locked together and I struggled to remain standing. I pulled in a deep, shaky breath.

Fiona was glowing, her skin was radiant, and her bright, white smile gleamed as she chatted casually with the man beside her. She was dressed in a pretty black dress, her little belly protruding in a barely there round bump, and soft waves of perfectly styled hair flowed over her shoulders. A pair of leopard-print ballet flats completed the look. She’d apparently given up her sky-high heels she normally wore for something more modest.

“You okay?” Ben approached me from behind, pulling my attention away from Fiona. His hand came to a rest against my spine, like he knew I’d need the physical support.

I swallowed a mouthful of bitter saliva. “Another drink. Get me another drink,” I bit out.

He signaled the poor waiter, who was earning every last bit of that tip, and moments later I had a fresh Jack and Coke in my hand. I sucked it down greedily.

Fiona’s hand rested against her belly as she circulated the room and chatted with various industry people. Her eyes had wandered to Ben and me once, and he’d placed his arm protectively around my waist, pulling me closer. Fiona had kept going right on past us. I was glad I didn’t have to speak to her but even seeing her made me sick.

Several drinks later, I was clutching Ben’s arm just to keep vertical. He tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. His worried gaze locked on mine and I could see him mentally calculating how many drinks I’d had. “You ready for me to take you home, baby?”

I nodded, drunkenly. “Yeah. I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”

Ben motioned for Ellie to take me, and after linking her arm through mine we headed through the gallery, thankfully without spotting Fiona on the way.

Ellie and I each slipped inside a stall and went about our business. But when I emerged, Fiona was standing at the sink inspecting her makeup.

Shit.

I took a deep breath and calmly approached the sink next to her and began soaping my hands. Maybe all that alcohol wasn’t the best idea. My stomach was churning violently and I felt woozy and disoriented under the harsh fluorescent lighting. I watched in silence as Fiona reapplied berry-red lipstick to her perfect pout.