That can’t be healthy, especially being around these women who like to overshare to extremes about their sex lives.
Well, okay, not Teagan. She likes to keep her sex life private. But Ava and Sasha are hopeless at oversharing.
As far as beginning to want a drink at the use of a certain word, I’m sure the same can be said for Nix. I’m not sure what his and Harvey’s stance is on the matter, but if they do want kids one day, then that isn’t going to be healthy.
“No, we can’t stop. It’s fun!” Ava cries. “Besides, I need to enjoy it before I can’t.”
“You’ve decided to have another baby?” Teagan asks on a squeal, jolting baby Michaela and needing to do a quick adjustment and some soothing to get her back to feeding.
“We’re talking about it. Honestly, I think Zander is more excited to try for a baby than truly wanting more kids.”
Harvey approaches, and as soon as he gives Nix his drink, Nix drowns it in two gulps.
“I need to leave until you guys can stop talking about babies. By the way, Harvey has a fantastic penis, and I’m hoping his penis and my penis get some alone time tonight. Penis.” At that, Nix walks off, leaving a horrified Harvey and a giggling Teagan and Ava.
“Shit, we’re going to be drunk before they even get a chance to bring out the food,” I whine, finishing off the drink and wondering if it’s worth getting pregnant just to have a valid excuse to get out of this stupid game. Even Teagan has a decent excuse since she’s breastfeeding, not that Sasha hasn’t pointed out to her that she can store some to have a brief break.
I have never thought about having kids myself, and while Scarlett and I were nowhere near having that discussion, I can’t help thinking she would make such a great mom.
Maybe we could have gotten there, if I hadn’t stuffed things up so badly.
“Ladies,” Harvey excuses himself, rushing off after Nix, who I am sure is going to get an earful from him.
It is rather fun to embarrass Harvey.
“There you guys are! What do you think?” Sasha asks, surprising us all by wearing a bright pink, short-fitted dress that sits above her knees. She has a small pop of a belly and minimal makeup on. Sasha doesn’t need makeup, though. She has flawless dark skin, but she loves makeup, so it’s surprising that she decided to wear so little for her engagement party. Also, her jewelry isn’t flashy; just a nice pair of dangly earrings and a necklace that I recall Declan bought her on an anniversary.
She looks stunning as always, her afro hair wild and beautiful, but she isn’t what I pictured when I thought of this night. I assumed there would be a makeup artist involved, as well as designer clothes. But what she is wearing now is a dress I recall she wore for a barbeque she hosted.
Sasha’s hand is resting over her belly. She’s been doing that a lot since she found out she was pregnant. Usually, Declan rests his hand over hers whenever he is near her. They can’t stop touching her belly.
While Ava, with her small stature, had been able to get away with looking like she ate a large meal for most her pregnancies until close to the end, Teagan, and now Sasha, both popped out early.
“It is so utterly charming and sweet. I love it!” Teagan speaks up, answering Sasha and making it easy for Ava and me to agree.
“I know, right? As soon as I saw the photos, I knew it would be perfect.”
“Really?” Ava asks before I elbow her to keep quiet.
“Yep!” She squeezes Ava’s and my arms in greeting before lightly tickling Michaela’s feet. Then she waltzes off to the two old ladies who immediately fawn over her.
“Okay, the barn setting is weird, but what is she wearing? Sasha loves to dress up. In fact, she owns countless amazing dresses. Why is she wearing one that looks so casual?” Ava questions.
Teagan shuffles Michaela who has finished feeding and lifts her lightly over her shoulder and the modesty blanket to burp her. “This is obviously what Sasha wants. She is glowing, and I’m sure it isn’t all the pregnancy hormones. She is happy, so let’s be happy for her,” she suggests, smiling at someone over my shoulder.
I glance back to see Joey approaching and try not to barf when he moves over to his “girls” and gives Michaela a tender kiss before smothering Teagan in kisses.
He has become a huge marshmallow since their daughter’s birth.
“I guess I better find my rascals. I’m sure Zander is probably ripping his hair out by now,” Ava mutters.
While she searches for her husband and kids in the room that is slowly filling up with more and more guests, my eyes land on Scarlett, who must have snuck in while I wasn’t looking.
She’s having a conversation with Conner and Nix, while Harvey stands close to his boyfriend’s side, keeping an arm around his shoulders.
It’s laughable how jealous he is of Conner, considering it’s clear that Conner has a crush on Harvey, not Nix.
Conner is Sasha’s friend from college who she reconnected with a while ago. He has been to a few of our dinners and drinking sessions, but he usually has something going on every night. It’s his livelihood to be busy and seen, since he’s a social media influencer or something like that and has a large online following.
Scarlett laughs at something Conner says, her laugh and smile filling me with a mixture of both happiness and regret.
“You okay?” Sasha asks, no doubt approaching after noticing where my gaze has landed. She’s been incredibly protective of me since the breakup. I mean, Sasha is incredibly protective over all her friends regardless, but she’s been fiercer since I became single again.
“Yeah,” I mutter, needing to clear my throat when it tries to close on me.
“You’re better off without her,” she says, something she has repeated many times over the past few months.
But she’s wrong.
I’m not.
I’m sad, mopey, and incredibly lonely.
I have gone through my fair share of breakups, but for whatever reason, none of them hit me as hard as mine and Scarlett’s.
“She looks stunning tonight,” I murmur, moving my eyes down her pale blue dress that hugs her figure in a torturous way while exposing a delicious slit up the side of her leg. Her hair is held up high in a loose-fitting bun, and I want to lick my lips at her bare neck.
Why couldn’t she have decided to wear a burlap sack? Is that really asking too much?
“She’s okay,” Sasha says, sounding unimpressed. “Did you give Larissa a call?”
She’s referring to a woman she met the other week who asked Sasha out when she was with Conner. She declined, obviously, but she did apparently brag about me.
Her business card has been burning a hole in my purse ever since Sasha gave it to me two weeks ago.
I know I should move on, and if she already has Sasha’s approval, then she can’t be too bad, but it would be unfair. My heart wouldn’t be in it.
“Not yet,” I answer, getting the predictable eye roll.
“Cynthia! You promised.”
“I promised I would take her card. I never said I would call her.”
I expect her to fight with me, because I did actually mention I would call. The next argument I plan to say is that I never gave a timeframe. I could technically call her in a few years and that would mean I never lied or misled Sasha. Instead, she surprises me by wrapping her arm around my shoulders and turning me around so I no longer have Scarlett in my sight.
“I’m really worried about you.”
“There is nothing to be worried over. I’m just not in the mood to date right now.”
“It’s not just your complete lack of social life that has me worried. You’re working too much. I keep telling Zander he needs to hire someone to replace your old job, but he said you want to do both.”
I nod, agreeing. I am good with computers, and I still do a lot of legwork for myself and the others. “I do. At least while I’m still going out with Gemma. I can handle both.”
“But that is just
way too much.”
“It’s not. A lot of the time, Gemma and I just sit in cars and wait. I get a lot of work done with just some Wi-Fi and a fully charged laptop.”
“And that brings me to another point. What the hell is the deal with you and Gemma?”
I roll my eyes, having heard this many times. Over the past few months, Sasha has seen Gemma give me a smile or say a few words to me. She acts like Gemma is an alien and that, in those moments, everything needs to be catalogued and analyzed.
“There is no deal with us. She’s a work colleague.”
“Cynthia, ignoring the time off she’s had because of her sister, she’s been on the J.P.I. payroll for over two years, and she still barely says a word to me. What the hell do you guys talk about?”
“We don’t talk, usually, unless it’s about the case we’re working on. Otherwise, we don’t speak.”
“Isn’t that … I don’t know, awkward?”
“Not really.” I give her a shrug, not really able to understand myself why Gemma and I work so well together.
I think, given how probing the girls can be, I appreciate how Gemma doesn’t judge or comment about my life. She expects me to be present and focused; that’s it.
“Listen, today is a special day for me, right?” Sasha asks sternly.
I am instantly alert. Her tone is like a kid pointing out how good they have mostly been all year before they admit to something naughty but still hopeful Santa will overlook the one bad thing and focus on the good.
“Of course it’s special.”
“And you know I’m pregnant with my little miracle baby.” She caresses her belly, and I glance down before I stare back at her overly innocent face. Yep, when she tries this hard to look innocent, it means she has done something to make her incredibly guilty.
“What have you done?”
“Cynthia, just acknowledge that you understand that I’m pregnant and that being angry at a pregnant woman, one who is your best friend and who is celebrating a big day today, is not something you will do. Okay?”
I narrow my eyes on her, wondering if I will be able to resist slapping a pregnant woman. “Just tell me what you did.”
She sighs heavily, as if she’s the one being put out, and then drops her bomb on me. “I knew you were dragging your feet with Larissa, so I called her up myself. You have a date set up for tomorrow night. I checked your schedule, so I know you and Gemma don’t have a case at the moment.”
My mouth drops open. I am truly speechless.
“Cynthia? Are you going to say anything?” She snaps her fingers in my face, but it does little to break my trance.
On one hand, I am incredibly angry, as well as not prepared to get back into the dating scene. Just seeing Scarlett and knowing how much I still care about her proves that. But another part of me knows that, if I open my mouth to speak, I’ll likely start screaming obscenities at Sasha. And she’s right. She is pregnant, and this is a special night for her. I might not have it in me to wait six more months before I yell at her, but I can at least wait until tomorrow.
“Cynthia?” she asks again, her confusion shifting to concern.
“I’ll discuss this with you tomorrow,” I manage to hiss at her, unable to keep the contempt out of my voice.
“You’re not mad, are you? I didn’t want to upset you. I just worry about you.” She grips my hand tightly while giving me a small pout.
If her kid has even one tenth of the power of her pout, then Sasha and Declan will be in a world of misery. Saying no will become impossible.
I inwardly smile at that thought. She would deserve that. See how it feels.
Already I can feel my resolve weakening. No doubt it will return soon enough, but in the presence of Sasha, I feel my anger abating.
“Not completely mad,” I admit to her reluctantly. “And you haven’t upset me. But please stop worrying about me. I know I haven’t been my usual self lately, but I’m sure I’ll bounce back soon enough.” The last part is possibly a lie, since I know I’m still moping over losing Scarlett.
“Sash!” Joey calls out from across the room, and we both glance over to see him waving his hands as he tries to grab her attention.
“Are you sure you’re not—”
“Yes!” I snap, then quickly soften my voice in the hopes that she will leave me alone. “I’m fine, and this is your special night. It isn’t every day you get to celebrate your engagement, so go and mingle.”
“Come with me—”
“I actually need a new drink.” I wave my empty glass at her, suddenly grateful for Nix’s penis outburst earlier.
“Okay, but if I see you sulking, I’m going to kick your ass.”
“Fine.” I nod my head in Joey’s direction.
After a quick supportive squeeze of my hand, Sasha weaves through the small crowd, constantly being stopped to talk along the way.
“Can you believe we’re in a freakin’ barn?” Gemma mutters, coming up beside me while she takes in the venue.
“I noticed,” I reply, already having to resist glancing over to where I know Scarlett is.
“Never took Jennings for a country-loving girl, and I’m certain Lockwood doesn’t even know the difference between a line dance and a twerk.”
“It’s sweet, and since they both organized the entire thing, I have to assume this is what they wanted,” I argue, even though us girls were just saying something similar.
“When I came in, there was one guy scraping the horse shit off his shoe from just outside the doorway.”
I wince at the imagery and the fact that I fear I might have also stepped in something on my way in. I scraped my shoe along the floor just in case, but I haven’t had the chance to glance at it. Now, in the middle of the barn with guests around, isn’t exactly the time. I can’t smell shit, though, and that’s the main thing.
“I admit there might be a slight possibility that Sasha has lost her mind,” I concede quietly.
“More like she is just into torturing all her supposed friends, family, and colleagues.”
I shake my head, although I do find Gemma’s words funny. “Knowing Sasha, there’s a reason she wanted this to happen here. Now, just enjoy the free booze and food and try not to scowl in every photo.”
Just as I say this, Gemma gives me a glare just as an unexpected flash blinds us momentarily, a photographer we never saw approaching taking our photo and immortalizing Gemma’s scowl forever.
“If you take one more photo of me, I will shove that camera so far up your—”
“Don’t mind her!” I call out to the poor man as I drag Gemma over to the bar.
“One more flash in my eyes, and I am out of here,” she threatens.
I don’t doubt her. In fact, I’m surprised she even bothered to show up. The last time she came to a social event was the lunch we had at Teagan’s house just after we rescued Shannon from her captivity and Teagan was released from hospital. It was in memory of their sweet dog Karma. Gemma stayed for almost an hour before disappearing without a word. Since then, she has declined every invite.
I’m certain Sasha only invited her tonight because she felt like she had to and because she was sure the answer would be no. So, consider us all surprised that she not only agreed to come but actually turned up.
“How’s your sister doing?” I ask quietly.
Though Gemma almost never speaks about anything that isn’t work-related, she has opened up a little about her sister. Sometimes when I ask, she may only give me a shrug. Other times, I manage to hear several minutes of quiet concern.
“She’s refusing to go by Shannon. She wants to be called Lennox, her middle name,” she answers as she grabs a flute of champagne then drowns the lot in one gulp. Reaching for another almost immediately, she ignores the bartender’s raised eyebrow.
“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Hell if I know. She’s seeing her psychologist twice a week, and when I asked her about it, she said I sho
uld abide by her wishes.”
“Maybe it’s a way for her to get a fresh start? New name means the horrors attached to the old one might feel less present?” I suggest.
Gemma stares over my shoulder as she slowly sips her second drink. She’s closing down on me. When she goes quiet, it means she’s finished with the discussion.
“Isn’t that your ex over there?”
I follow her gaze to see Scarlett eyeing us.
It’s the first time since we broke up that our eyes have made direct contact, and while my heart stutters and my breath catches, she doesn’t appear fazed at all. In fact, she breaks eye contact first to say something to Conner. Given his laugh, I doubt she just admitted she misses me.
“Unfortunately,” I whisper, my throat clogging with emotion.
How did I think I would be okay with her being here tonight? I should have just taken Sasha up on her offer of not inviting her. It would have been mean-spirited, petty, and lame, but at least I wouldn’t feel like an eighteen-wheeler had run over my heart.
“Want me to go out and slash her car tires?” Gemma offers. It’s enough to jolt me out of my pity party.
“Seriously?” I gasp, eyeing her carefully.
“Sure. Why not?” She shrugs, drifting her eyes over the room again.
I can’t stop staring at her. Her offer almost seems … friendly. Like she wants to do something that might make me feel better, even if it’s on the extreme end of acceptable. That coming from Gemma, we might as well have gotten best friend charm necklaces.
The soft country music shuts off, and the squeal of a microphone grabs our attention. The entire crowd cranes their necks to look toward the front of the room, finding Sasha near a large table already set up with plates and cutlery.
“Food will be served in five minutes! So, if you need to pee, do it now,” she announces before muttering obscenities into the speaker that are loudly broadcasted to everyone as she tries to turn it off.
I Blackmailed Her Brother Page 3