I rinsed the suds from my hands and found my reflection in the mirror. In contrast to Fiona’s perfectly put-together appearance I was pale and . . . drunk looking.
Just great.
“It’s a nice event, isn’t it?” I attempted politeness, breaking the stony silence between us.
She shrugged, recapping her tube of lipstick and dropping it inside her tiny purse. “I was surprised to see you here, actually. Ben hadn’t said anything about you two being back together.”
Her words stung, I couldn’t lie. Ben should have told her to go to hell and that I was the love of his life. Why hadn’t he? While I was still rendered speechless, Fiona turned to face me. God, where the hell was Ellie?
“Enjoy him now while you can.” Her hand lovingly caressed her belly. “We’re going to be a family soon. We’ll have a forever connection. What will you have? Your memories of a great shag?”
I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, fighting back the tears and curse words I wanted to let rip. I opened my mouth, my intoxicated brain struggling to give voice to the words swirling in my brain.
“He’s stuck by me for five years. Don’t forget that sweetie. I’d be careful if I were you,” she warned, bitter venom lacing her voice.
Ellie emerged from the stall just then, standing tall beside me. “What Emmy and Ben have is none of your damn business, you old witch. Just worry about yourself.” Ellie’s tone was careful, measured, and I was thankful for her clear, level head. But her voice held a hint of warning, too, and I knew she could go from civilized to bitch in two seconds flat.
Fiona looked from Ellie back to me and let out a short laugh. “Enjoy yourselves while it lasts, girls.” She placed the little purse strap over her wrist and strolled from the restroom without a backward glance.
I learned that being highly intoxicated and emotionally drained from my showdown with Fiona didn’t mix well. When we found the guys again, Ben’s mouth tugged down in a frown and he looped an arm around my waist. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
I merely nodded and let him guide me to the exit, hoping that Fiona was somewhere nearby watching his arms encircle me.
The hiccups hit me on the limo ride back. Ben watched me with a worried expression and Ellie handed me a bottle of water from the limo minibar while Braydon sat slumped in the seat next to Ben.
“Here, sweetie, drink this.” She uncapped the bottle and urged me to take a sip.
The water should have been refreshing, but my belly was turning somersaults and my head was spinning from facing the wrong direction in the limo. I took a small sip and returned the bottle. I let my eyes slip closed and rested my head back against the leather headrest.
The three of them continued a low, murmured conversation beside me, and I tried to focus on what was being said since I was pretty sure they were discussing me.
“Your agent is a fucking bitch,” Ellie snapped.
“She means well, Ellie, trust me. You don’t know her like I do.”
“Yeah, right. She meant well when she was in the restroom just now telling Emmy that she was going to win you back.”
Braydon cleared his throat loudly but Ben remained quiet. I wanted him to argue, to shout and curse and swear that it was never going to happen. But his silence permeated the air, making my stomach turn in little somersaults.
“You think this is healthy for her? Being with you? Having to deal with this shit?” Ellie whispered coarsely.
“I don’t know,” Ben answered.
I wanted to argue with them, to tell them I was fine. Or that I would be once this damn limo stopped spinning. It was like a magic-carpet ride from hell. But I stayed quiet, trying to piece together their cryptic, murmured phrases.
Ben cursed under his breath. “I’m not giving her up. As long as she wants me, I’m here.”
I vaguely heard Ben instruct the driver to bring us home first then drop off Ellie and Braydon after. I hoped they would be okay alone together. For some reason they mixed about as well as oil and water. But I didn’t have time to worry about that. My attention was focused solely on praying that the contents of my stomach would stay put. By the time the limo rolled to a stop in front of Ben’s building, I’d lost the use of my legs. Well, shit.
Ben lifted me in his arms and carried me. When we reached his apartment, he brought me inside and set me down on the couch then removed my shoes. “Are you feeling okay?”
I nodded, though I wasn’t entirely sure. God, why did I drink so much?
“I’ll go get you a glass of water and some pain reliever,” he said.
His words barely registered because the second he was out of the living room I was on my feet, darting for the bathroom. The liquor in my stomach churned violently and just as the toilet came into view I lost it, sinking to my knees and getting sick.