Beth tossed her paper plate into the trash after mine. “I wish this was the bakery to the stars, but I suppose I’m lucky to get what I get. There was that actor from that movie that one time.”
“The one with the vampires in it?” I interrupted. “And the werewolves who wanted to be rock stars.”
“That’s the one,” Beth said. “Then there was the time that billionaire investor came in and bought all my cupcakes. He paid cash like it was nothing and left with every cupcake in the whole place.”
“What does a billionaire do with all those cupcakes?” I mused. “No one could possibly eat all that sugar.”
“Who cares?” Beth asked. “It paid the bills for a month.” She spun around gleefully like she was starring in The Sound of Music. “He was good looking, too. Better than a movie star.”
We both laughed. “What other famous celebrities have eaten your sweets?” I asked. “You always leave out all the good stuff.”
Beth blushed and giggled. “It’s not like that. I told you. There have been a few famous faces, but it’s not like we’re in Los Angeles. This is Providence, Rhode Island. It isn’t exactly a celebrity hotspot.” She waved a hand toward the window as if that explained everything.
“Are you kidding me?” I asked. “Do you know how many celebrities perform in this city?” My stomach did a slow roll, and I stifled a belch. I didn’t know what was wrong with me lately. It was probably anxiety. My stomach was in knots.
“Yeah. Well, they aren’t exactly waking up early the next morning to order wedding cakes, except for this one.” She gestured at the elaborate wedding cake that she was in the process of dismantling into single-size servings. “I’ll probably have to throw half of it away, but it’s already been paid for.”
“What happened?” I asked. “You said something about a rock star bridezilla. Was it Demi Lovato?” I squealed like a pre-teen girl. She was my favorite singer.
“I wish,” Beth exclaimed. “Besides, I met her once, and she’s as nice as pie.” She picked up her iPhone and scrolled through her photos until she found proof of her chance encounter with the “Cool for the Summer” singer. “I told you so.” She stuck her tongue out at me.
“See.” I rolled my eyes. “I told you this place was a celebrity magnet. So, who canceled the wedding? Was it anyone I would know?” I rubbed my hands together. “Spill all the details.”
“It was Dominic Angelchance,” she whispered. “The rock star.”
“Shut up,” I yelled. “I have tickets to his concert tonight.” My stomach did another flip flop. “What happened? I didn’t even know he was getting married.” If there was anything on the celebrity gossip websites, I would have seen it.
“That’s just it. He didn’t know either. His fiancée picked tonight for their wedding, and she didn’t even tell him about it. She was really a pain in the ass, changing her mind about things right up until the last day, but she paid in cash.” Beth rubbed the thumb and forefinger of one hand together. “Her money was green, but her personality was black as night.”
“Anyway, she waits until they roll into town to tell Dominic about the wedding. I guess he proposed a year ago, but he kept dragging his feet about the actual wedding date. That’s what she said. She rented out the entire convention center for the wedding, secured valet parking, a caterer, rings, limos, cake—you name it—then she expected him to cancel the concert tonight and marry her instead.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I said. “That’s crazy. Tell me more.”
“First thing this morning, he comes storming in here, throws down a stack of hundred dollar bills and tells me to eat the cake myself,” Beth said.
“Wait a second.” My mouth drops open in surprise. I made a conscious effort to close it. “You mean to tell me that Dominic Angelchance was in here today, and you waited until now to tell me about it?”
Beth looked apologetic. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I knew Angelchance was Jeff’s favorite band, and I didn’t want to remind you about him.” She looked down at her hands. “I thought you didn’t even like them.”
“Right,” I said. “You’re right.” It had been a month since Jeff had told me he was going back to his wife. After that, I never heard from him again, and I didn’t expect to. What if he’s at the concert tonight? The thought made my stomach churn.
The last month had brought with it a tsunami of mixed emotions that threatened to wash me out to sea where I’d never be heard from again. Although I tried to tell myself that I was better off without Jeff, my heart ached at the most inopportune times.
For weeks, I had held out hope that he would come crawling back to me with his heart in his hands. Every time I heard a car pass by my window or footsteps on the sidewalk, I thought it was Jeff, coming back to sweep me off my feet.
I fantasized about coming home to find bouquets of roses on my doorstep or heartfelt love letters in my mailbox. So far, my fantasies had gone unrealized.
He hadn’t even had the decency to call.
I had sent him several hopeful text messages. However, I hadn’t exactly told him what his leaving me had done to my fragile heart. I was afraid that a display of emotions sent via text would urge him to label me weak and pathetic.
He had put so many labels on my emotional state during our relationship that I didn’t think I could take another. For every compliment or word of praise he had ever give me, he had insulted me or made me feel bad about myself tenfold.
That didn’t mean I didn’t miss him.
“So,” Beth said. “Who are you taking to the concert tonight?” She batted her long eyelashes and grinned. “Anyone I know?”
“I’m not taking anyone at all,” I said. “I only have one ticket.” It sounded like my sister thought she would be accompanying me to the concert, but she was mistaken. If only I’d managed to keep control of both tickets, we could have a girls’ night out while Jeff sat home with his wife and lamented missing the concert. I almost smiled at the thought.
Her eyebrows rose quizzically. “Didn’t you buy two tickets?” she asked.
I nodded my head. “Yes. I bought two tickets, but when Jeff left, I let him take one.” I braced myself for Beth’s reaction. She had never liked Jeff, and she had even fewer reasons to like him now.
“You have one ticket, and he has the other ticket?” Beth asked. “So, you’re going to the concert together?” Her tone of voice was sharp and clipped.
“No,” I nearly shouted. “We’re not going together. I haven’t even talked to him since he told me that he was going to try to make it work with Felicity.” I could feel my face grow flushed with embarrassment when I mentioned Jeff’s wife.
My sister’s nose crinkled at the sound of the other woman’s name. “I don’t understand,” she said. “Are you going to the concert, or aren’t you?”
I nodded my head and eyed the wedding cake. My stomach growled, suddenly hungry. “I am definitely going to the concert.”
“And Jeff is going to the concert?” Beth persisted.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what he’s doing,” I admitted. “Angelchance is his favorite band. I would be surprised if he didn’t show up.” I would have bet dollars to doughnuts that he’d be there. In his dreams, he was a rock star.
“Isn’t rock music a little unrefined for a lawyer?” Beth asked. “I wouldn’t have taken him for the heavy metal type.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea. Lawyers are people, too, I guess. What are lawyers supposed to listen to? Opera?”
We both laughed, but my laughter was forced. All this talk about Jeff was making me sick to my stomach. My tummy was in nervous knots, and I felt like I was going to vomit. I was grateful that I’d barely eaten, giving my roiling belly less to complain about.
“What are you going to wear?” Beth asked. She frowned at my tattered Grateful Dead t-shirt, spandex exercise pants and multicolored running shoes. “Not that.”
I looked down at myself “This shoul
d be fine. It’s not like I’m going to be performing onstage. I’m comfortable, and I’m not planning on picking up a man at the concert.” Especially not with Jeff sitting right beside me.
“No way,” Beth protested. “I’d dress you myself, but I don’t have anything in your size. Are you even wearing a bra?” She peered in the general direction of my breasts.
“No,” I mumbled under my breath. “Do I need one?” I looked down at my small chest. “There didn’t seem to be a need. I took it off. It was chafing my skin.”
Beth shook her head in disbelief. “We’re living in a society here,” she said. “Of course you need a bra. What time is the show?”
I looked at the clock in the wall. “Um, it starts in two hours,” I said.
Beth stood from her stool and started shooing me toward the back door of the bakery. “If you hurry, you still have a chance to make yourself presentable before the show starts. Make sure Jeff gets a good look at what he’s missing.”
“I don’t care,” I protested. It wasn’t exactly true. The thought of making him regret he’d chosen his wife over me did have a certain sort of appeal.
“Wear something sexy, but don’t do anything stupid,” Beth advised. “I expect a full report first thing in the morning.”
Before I knew it, I was sitting in my car at the curb, shaking my head in disbelief. As much as I hated to admit it, Beth was right. This was the perfect chance to make Jeff sorry for letting me go.
Chapter Three
Back at the house, I stripped out of my workout clothes and jumped into the shower. If it hadn’t been for my sister’s advice, I would have gone to the concert “as is” without even washing my hair or putting on makeup.
All my life, people had called me pretty. No one was offering me any modeling contracts or falling at my feet, but I knew that I was reasonably attractive. Unfortunately, my level of attractiveness seemed to rise depending upon how much of a jerk a guy was.
Take Jeff, for example. From the moment he first saw me wearing yoga pants and a sports bra, he was smitten. At least that’s what he said. He couldn’t take his eyes off me for the entire duration of the yoga class I was teaching at the local gym
Never before had I been that conscious of a man’s eyes as they traveled over the curves and planes of my body. Thanks to my strict fitness and nutrition routine, I knew that my body was toned and fit.
No one would really consider me curvy. I had soft lines in all the right places, but my body was more planes than curves. Beth had gotten all the voluptuousness in the family. My body was more like a well-oiled machine, but that’s the way I liked it.
I prided myself on being able to do things like change my own flat tires, shimmy up a tree after a stuck cat or run a mile without breaking a sweat. My body was smooth and limber, and I could bend my body into the most difficult yoga positions without feeling like a hand-knotted pretzel.
If I had to guess, I’d say that my flexibility was one of the reasons that I caught Jeff’s eye. He looked like he was ready to drool when I performed downward facing dog, but when he saw me do the double Buddhasana pose, he literally started panting.
It might have been because of the heat in the room or the fact that he was struggling to keep up with even the simplest poses, but I’m sure I had something to do with it.
I tried to force thoughts of Jeff out of my mind as I showered, which wasn’t easy considering the number of times he’d joined me beneath this very shower head, holding my leg over his shoulder as he plunged into me beneath the spray of warm water.
I didn’t exactly have the energy to get myself all dolled up tonight, but I knew I had to try for Beth’s sake. When I reported back to her in the morning, I didn’t want to admit that I hadn’t even bothered to wear deodorant. No, I was going to make tonight count.
After I washed and conditioned my hair, I decided to throw caution to the wind and shave my legs, too. Since I hadn’t yet decided upon an outfit, I figured it was best to be prepared.
As it turned out, I ended up squeezing into a tiny pair of denim shorts that showed off my lean legs. A simple white form-fitting t-shirt and a pair of high heels completed the look.
I turned slowly in front of my bedroom mirror and admired what I saw. My long, curly hair hung in waves down my back, and my body looked exactly the way it should after choosing salad over wedding cake at my sister’s bakery earlier in the day.
Holding my breath, I sucked in my stomach. Something didn’t feel quite right.
I sat down at my desk and pulled out a calendar. After checking a couple of dates, circling some in red and crossing out others, I cursed under my breath. I’m late.
Years ago, I had gone on birth control pills, but the side effects weren’t worth the peace of mind. Until I met Jeff, I hadn’t really had a regular sex life. So, I just relied on condoms to prevent pregnancy while keeping any pesky STDs at bay.
However, the last time that Jeff and I had made love—my mind supplied a dirtier but more accurate word for what Jeff and I had really done, but I chose to ignore it—he had skipped the condom. Now, my period was late.
I concentrated on taking deep breaths and convincing myself that it was all an unfortunate coincidence. There wasn’t time to think about that. I had a concert to attend.
Focusing all my senses on doing my makeup almost managed to make me forget that I could possibly have a married man’s baby growing inside me. It was the last thing that I needed.
I plucked a few stray hairs from my eyebrows and coated them with mascara before picking up black eyeliner and rimming my eyes. With a cotton swab, I smeared eye shadow over the eyeliner for a smoky look, adding a lighter color at the highest point of my eyelids.
With the same mascara I had used on my brows, I added several coats of color to my eyelashes, making them really thick. I pulled back from the mirror and admired my handiwork. I looked like a video vixen from a 1980s era rock music video. All I needed was some color for my cheeks and lips.
I rummaged through my makeup kit, but I couldn’t find the red lipstick that I wanted. Every other color was present and accounted for, but I didn’t want to wear pink, purple or taupe. Tonight, I wanted to paint my lips red.
Looking at the clock and realizing I needed to kick things into high gear, I headed for the bathroom and threw open the medicine cabinet. There was my red lipstick, lying on its side right in front of an unopened blue box.
I swallowed hard.
It was a pregnancy test, and I suddenly had the urge to pee.
With shaking hands, I applied red lipstick to my mouth and blotted it with a square of toilet tissue. Taking the pregnancy test now would either make or break the night. If it was negative, I could breathe a massive sigh of relief before heading to the Angelchance concert.
If it was positive, I would be freaking out the whole night. Heck, if it was positive, then I might as well just stay home and put my head in the oven with the pilot light out because my life would be over.
I unwrapped the plastic stick like an unwanted present and set it on the bathroom counter. Then I pulled down my denim shorts and thong panties. Better make it count, I thought.
After I was finished, I closed my eyes and counted off 120 seconds. It was the longest two minutes of my life.
Two minutes later, I opened my eyes. In one window of the plastic stick, there was a solid blue line. In the other window, there was an incriminating plus mark. I checked the back of the box to be sure. The example pictured for a positive pregnancy test exactly matched the one in my hand.
I was screwed.
Within minutes, I was in my car, headed for the concert with the positive pregnancy test sealed in a plastic bag inside my purse. If Jeff did actually have the nerve to show up, I could present it to him before the music started. That way, we could both have our night ruined.
I drove like I was in a trance, feeling like I was on autopilot all the way. Once I parked my car and rushed inside the venue, I joined a line of
women to be frisked before entering.
The man who patted me down seemed to let his gaze and his hands linger just a little bit longer than he had with the girls in line ahead of me. One look inside my purse to check for contraband, and his toothy grin faded. A positive pregnancy test has that effect on some men.
I found my seat without the assistance of an usher. My stomach felt like it was filled with porcupine quills. At least the seat next to me was empty. It was a mixed blessing.
On the one hand, I wouldn’t have to see Jeff’s smug face. On the other hand, my news would have to wait. Maybe I could call the number on the business card he had given me and advise one of his associates that Jeff’s former lover was in a family way.
I remembered that I had given the business card back to him, along with the single concert ticket and the unused condom. The concert was about to begin when he arrived.
“Hey,” Jeff greeted me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “You made it.” He had the nerve to embrace me in a hug. “You look amazing,” he said. “Really. I mean it. You’re positively glowing.”
“Thanks.” I pulled away. It didn’t escape my notice that he was wearing a wedding band. “If you had been wearing that when I met you, I wouldn’t be in this mess,” I told him.
“What mess?” he asked politely. He didn’t look concerned.
“I’m pregnant,” I said.
“What?”
The lights went down, and the arena was plunged into darkness with the exception of the stage, which was lit up with flickering red lights that looked like fire.
“I’m pregnant,” I said again, louder this time.
The deafening roar of the crowd drowned out my words.
Jeff looked at me, shrugged his shoulders and pointed at his ear. “I can’t hear you,” he said.
I didn’t hear his words, but I could read his lips. As I was wondering why he couldn’t read mine, the opening act started to play. I couldn’t even hear my own thoughts over the music. There was no way we were going to be able to hold a conversation.
Rock Me: A Billionaire Romance (Billionaires, Brides and Babies Book 1) Page 2