"And?" Paul didn't like where this was going.
"He said he had better things to do with his time than watch his daughter throw her life down the drain."
"Did she hear him say that?"
He shook his head. "No, she doesn't know I called him. She used my phone one night to see if he'd take her call if he didn't recognize the number but he didn't answer … so I called him on my own."
Kirk Harris was in a league of his own when it came to being a bastard. Libby deserved so much more from her family … and she deserved so much more from him. It might be too late, but he loved her, dammit. And now he had an idea of how he might be able to make it up to her.
"You're not coming?" Libby felt as though her stomach had fallen through the floor. "Why?"
"John has to work late, and I can't find anyone to babysit Eloise. She's not old enough to stay home on her own yet." Her mother's wariness radiated down the phone line. "I'm sorry, Libby. That's part of being a mother."
Libby bit back a retort about the fact that she was also her mother, not just Eloise's. But being jealous of a ten-year-old was a lesson in futility, as was trying to get her parents to put her first for a change.
"You could always bring her along."
"To a bar?" Her mother sighed. "That's not appropriate."
Libby was officially two for two. Her mother had canceled on her at the last minute, and she hadn't even been able to get in touch with her father. No amount of voicemails had yielded a return phone call, and all her texts had gone unanswered. She'd even swung past his house, but the sight of wife number four had made her turn tail.
There would be zero family at the launch of Libby Gal Cocktails.
After saying a few words to Eloise, who was adamant about relaying her whole school day to Libby in minute detail, she hung up the phone. The girl had it so good, and she didn't even know.
"No dice?" Nina asked.
She was barefoot, her bright blue hair-which was now showing a line of blond at the roots-twisted into a knot. A stack of professionally printed posters featuring Nina's artwork sat on the coffee table, the watercolor designs a melange of pink, green, and yellow. Tonight those posters would decorate the walls of First and from tomorrow onward they'd feature on her website and the advertising she'd booked with local magazines and blogs.
She was finally launching her business … without her family, without Paul. If it weren't for Nina's ever-supportive presence she'd be truly alone in the world.
"She couldn't get a babysitter for Eloise." Libby turned to her computer so she wouldn't see Nina's sympathy.
But Nina wasn't the kind of person who would let her get away with it that easily. "That's really shitty."
Libby swallowed, nodding. Praying she wouldn't cry and mess up the artful makeup application she'd treated herself to … and paid a small fortune for.
"Have you heard from Paul?" Nina sat on the edge of her desk, one leg crossed over the other.
As much as Nina abhorred pink, she'd worn a pair of fuchsia jeans to go with the pink and green gingham shirts they'd had made for the wait staff for tonight's event. She never wore pink, but she hadn't complained once.
"Are you trying to pour salt on the wound?" Libby shook her head. "No, I haven't heard from him."
"Have you called him?"
"Why would I call him, Neens? He made it clear we weren't an item, and now his whole family knows the relationship was a sham." She reached for a bottle of her lavender vodka and two shot glasses. "I have nothing to say to him."
"Not all relationships are destined to fail, you know."
Libby's head snapped up. She'd expected a snappy comeback from her best friend, a declaration that Paul was indeed a Grade A jerk or, at the very least, that Libby didn't need a man to make her happy. Which was true, she didn't … but Paul had made her happy, and she couldn't seem to forget it.
"You know Pete and I split up once," Nina continued. "Before we got engaged."
"I didn't know that." Libby twisted the lid off the vodka and inhaled the relaxing lavender scent.
"He wanted to go overseas for six months, and I couldn't leave my job for that long. I told him I didn't want to hold him back, that I didn't want to change him. So he went." Nina's hand came down on Libby's, her sparkly black nail polish glimmering in the afternoon light. "I was so fucking miserable without him, you have no idea. He came back within a week and told me it was the stupidest thing he'd ever done."
"Smart man."
"What I'm saying is, sometimes you need to experience that separation to know how much you care about someone. You need to understand what life is like without him." She grinned. "Besides, boys are stupid. We can't crucify them for every little mistake."
"What if Pete hadn't come back?"
"I'd already booked a flight to Tuscany to be with him." She patted Libby's hand. "Being apart didn't feel right to either of us."
"I don't know what being apart feels like for him." She poured the vodka into two shot glasses, her hand shaking, and she spilled a little onto her desk.
"That's because you haven't asked him."
"But I did. He told me there was nothing between us." Libby took a long breath. "He's right, I'm not … relationship material. I'm not family material, either."
"Don't you ever say that!" Nina jumped off the desk and wrapped her arms around Libby. "Family isn't just the people you're related to, you idiot. It's the people you choose to be part of your life. You're my family, and I'll shout it from the rooftops if I have to."
"Really?" Libby's eyes swam.
"I'll even get a bullshit Facebook account and put it on the internet if that helps you believe it."
Libby laughed through the haze of tears. "Wow, wearing pink and succumbing to Facebook. You must love me."
"Damn straight, and don't you forget it."
Libby placed one of the filled vodka shots in front of Nina. "Bottoms up."
It was Nina's turn to look serious. "No can do, my little flower."
"I thought you said heavy drinking is recommended in times of intense stress." Libby picked up her glass and downed the drink.
"Yeah, but it's not recommended for pregnant ladies."
Libby's mouth fell open. "You're pregnant?"
"I'm only eight weeks along, so don't you dare tell anybody." She fiddled with the large hoop in her ear. "But, seeing as there's all this talk about family … I wanted to make it official. I want you to be my baby's godmother."
Libby's heart beat like a drum, pounding her ribcage and flooding her body with all the love she'd locked up safe and tight. All the love she'd held inside for fear of giving it to someone and having him throw it away.
"I would be honored," she said, squeezing her friend. "I'm going to be the best godmother there ever was."
"I have no doubt. And I mean what I said, you are part of my family." Nina patted her belly and smiled. "You're part of my baby's family. I need someone he or she can look up to, because Pete and I sure as hell aren't great role models."
Libby pulled a face. "You're going to be an amazing mother."
"So are you one day. A great wife, a great mother, a great grandmother. If you pull your head out of your ass, that is." Nina patted her shoulder.
For the first time the idea of being any or all of those things didn't fill her with fear and scepticism. She had an opportunity to fill someone else's life with love and happiness, to do the opposite of what her parents had done.
And Paul … the time apart hadn't diminished her feelings for him. Not by a long shot.
"Tonight you need to concentrate on being a great businesswoman." Nina jumped up and brushed her hands down her thighs. "But call that stupid boy tomorrow, and show him what he's missing."
She had no idea if he missed her, if he regretted what he'd said … if the words were even true. And she wanted to be in Nina's shoes, to have a family of her own. To grow old with someone, to be a good influence and share her success with someone. But there wasn't anyone else she could imagine spending her life with other than Paul.
Outside First, the late afternoon sun waned. Summer had given way to autumn, and with it came intermittent drizzle-a much needed reprieve from the heat-and shorter days. Gray clouds hovered overhead, a warning to stay indoors.
Paul stalked toward his car, a dark cloud of his own crushing down on him. Des's comment had struck him deep in the chest, in that soft place only a loved one could find. His brother certainly counted as a loved one, but right now he wanted to punch him in the face.
Paul was not in the same category as Kirk Harris.