King:Las Vegas Bad Boys(6)

When I had Sophia she let me move in. I've always worked, and she's  always helped with my daughter. It was never on the table for me to stay  home with my little girl and Mom to look for a job ... and maybe that's  fine. That's my lot. I made the choice to have her when I was so young,  and now I have to suck it up and deal.







I'm so appreciative of Mom watching Sophia so I can go to work and do  things like go out tonight. But her commenting on my wardrobe-when I'm  working my ass off-stings.

I make my own choices on where my money goes. Sophia doesn't need to go  to a private school. She doesn't need to take organic applesauce in her  lunchbox. I don't need to take her to swimming lessons at the same pool  her classmates go to ... or whatever other  unnecessary-but-actually-very-important thing in my  I'm-doing-the-best-I-can opinion.

Sophia comes before me. And then I make sure Mom has what she needs. I get whatever is left.

Tonight, it's a jean jacket and black boots from halfpriceshoes.com.

"Okay, well, I'm gonna go. Text if you need me. Otherwise, I'll be home by ten."

Mom cocks an eyebrow my way and sits in her recliner, the remote in one hand, the white wine in the other.

"How about midnight, Cinderella," Mom says as I set up an Uber. "Better  yet, I'm giving you a hall pass. You never go out and really let  yourself have a good time. Go. Play."

I shake my head. "How do you even know what a hall pass is?"

"I'm pretty hip, Claire," she says, turning on her show.

"We'll see. Regardless, I'll be home before Sophia wakes up, okay?"

I grab my purse and kiss her cheek goodbye, feeling nothing like  Cinderella. That's Emmy's role. She was the one swept up off her feet by  a Prince Charming. I don't think there are any Kings left.



"Maybe lose the jean jacket?" Tess suggests, frowning critically. The  three of us have just been seated at a private table in the back of  Moxie.

"What's wrong with this coat?" I ask, looking at Emmy for confirmation.

She grimaces. "It's a little ... casual?"

"Casual? Ohmigosh, where did my friends go?" I ask, clicking my tongue.  "A few months ago, Emmy, you were hard up for any shifts you could get  your hands on, and now you're the fashion police? How far you've come,  girl."

Turning to Tess, I add, "And since when do you get off judging anyone's  fashion sense?" She's worse than Shoshanna on Girls. She has such a high  topknot at the moment I'm afraid it's gonna topple off her pretty head.

"Whatever," Tess says, not taking offense. "It's just, like, something a  mom would wear. Not you, Claire. You're the hot one. The one with sex  appeal."

Her words hit me hard. I'm in mom clothes, probably because I'm a mom.

I need to get some balls.

"Let's get drinks and let me tell you about my honeymoon!" Emmy  declares. A waiter seems to appear from thin air and we order. As soon  as he leaves, Emmy leans in. "Oh, and I have to tell you guys something,  promise not to tell?" It's like she has gossip dripping from her mouth.

Okay, so maybe it's not the time to reveal that I have a five-year-old tucked in at home.

Not that I care more about gossip than being transparent with my girlfriends ... more like avoidance is my middle name.

For a split second I'm scared Emmy knows about Landon and me and that is  her gossip ... but then I realize she wouldn't be telling me about my  own hook-up.

I need the waiter to bring me back my Prosecco. Stat.

"So, I know this is crazy ... but Ace and I didn't use protection once on the honeymoon."

"Wow," I say, reaching for the flute the waiter has just brought me.  Taking a sip-okay, taking a full-on chug-I can't hide my complete shock.  "You want to have a baby? So soon?"

Emmy looks wounded, and she lowers her eyes, tucking her hair behind her  ears with her perfectly-manicured finger. "Well, gosh-I mean, I know  it's soon. But Ace and I want a family. We have one another, but ... we  want more."

"Well, it's your life. Do whatever you want. I mean, it's just  …  you're  only twenty-two, and you've been married for two weeks, to a man you've  known for two months. Sounds like a recipe for disaster, if you ask me."

I know my speech isn't exactly ... gentle. But gosh, what the hell are  Emmy and Ace thinking? They have no clue what life is like with a baby. I  did it solo, but even with a supportive partner it can rock your world.  I just don't understand why they'd want to shake the surface they're  just starting to build.

"Claire." Tess's mouth hangs open. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." My mouth is set in a straight line and I know I must look  like a matronly bitch with a stick up my ass. I feel like one, too.







Emmy has tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I know it's fast," Emmy says, reaching across the table and taking my  hand, withholding the judgment I deserve. "But after everything with  Janie, I just ... Claire, life is short. And precious. I don't want to  miss something good. Something beautiful, because of what-ifs."

I can't tell her that what-ifs are the very things that break us, that  the what-ifs should be considered-because when you don't consider them,  you end up in a life you never wanted. In your mom's condo in Vegas  without a college degree, without a savings account, without anything  besides your own bootstraps.

I can't say that. I can't really say that to anyone, can I? How can I  say that I love Sophia with all that I am and all that I will be, that I  will fight to make her life-story a fairy tale and a dream come true,  but that I still wish I'd given myself space for a few more chapters of  my own? How can I say that being a mom isn't enough ... that I want  more?

I can't say that because it makes me sound like a monster, a shitty mom,  a mom as bad as Sophia's father. I don't want to be that woman. I want  to give Sophia everything.

And, looking at Emmy now, I know she wouldn't be able to understand my words without knowing so much more.

Maybe if the night had started out differently I'd be able to tell them the truth ... but now the mood has already changed.

"You're right," I say, forcing a smile. "You'll be an amazing mom, and  Ace will be a badass dad, and you have money and opportunities and will  be a gorgeous family. Sorry for being a cynic."

"Well," Emmy says, smiling. "It could be awhile. You never know. Some people try for years."

And some people try one time. One singular time. And their lives change forever.

"Ohmigosh, you would be so hot pregnant," Tess says. "Although, if you  have a baby before Claire and I even find men, I might get a little  jealous of your life."

"You're already jealous," I say, laughing, elbowing her. The waiter  comes back and we all order the special. When he leaves, Tess picks up  where we left off.

"True." Tess groans. "Your wedding was amazing  …  but, seriously, not enough single men. Right Claire?"

I feel my cheeks redden at this, and I take another sip-chug of the  Prosecco. The waiter appears once again and refills my glass.

"You didn't meet anyone either?" Emmy asks.

"Meet? No." I bite my lip, knowing that it's technically the truth, but wondering if maybe I owe them the actual truth.

"Bummer. I know Ace invited some single guys."

"Well," Tess smiles, "you and Landon sure looked cute dancing together."

"Ha. Right. Cute." I swallow. I need to be real with them about  something, and I'm not ready to talk about Sophia ... but I can mention  Landon.

"You did, though." Tess shrugs. "Dancing so prim and proper."

"Well, okay, I'll give you some gossip of my own," I tell them.

"We're all ears," Emmy says leaning in.

"Okay, so after the wedding-" I start, ready to tell them everything.

Tess looks down at her phone. "Ohmigosh, I hate to interrupt, Claire,  but you guys, I just got a text that Gwen Stefani is here. At the  hotel."

"Gwen Stefani?" Emmy's mouth drops open. "Let me call Ace and see if he  can  …  you know, like, introduce us." She immediately grabs her phone and  begins texting Ace.

I get it. Gwen Stefani being here is a big deal, and I know Tess loves  this sort of thing. She Instagrammed the hell out of being at the  wedding with the Ashley Fast. Even I know a potential Gwen Stefani  sighting tops that.

I smile, lean back, and then take another sip of Prosecco, unsure if I just dodged a bullet or created a bigger divide.

A divide I'll never be able to cross.





Chapter Six





Landon



Ace used to be all intense about anyone coming to his penthouse, but apparently getting wifed up changed all that.

I'm in the elevator headed to the top floor of the Spades Royalle for  our monthly poker game when my phone buzzes. Checking it, I see Geoffrey  texting.

Great, earlier it was my father, and now him.

Geoffrey: Dad said he called. You coming home, for reals?

Me: Checking my schedule.

Okay, that isn't true. One, I have no fucking schedule; I'm my own man.  And two, no way in hell am I coming home to watch Geoffrey be crowned  king of the Diamond empire.