21. Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-one
Shira
When I’d been married to Frank, I’d attended more galas and charity functions than I could’ve counted. My lifestyle with him had been so drastically different from how I’d grown up. I never could have fathomed all the moving parts that went into throwing an event like that.
Now, I knew, and I was exhausted.
Kit was only a few weeks from her due date and much to Elliot’s chagrin, she was running around the venue like a hyperactive bunny. He stayed right behind her, constantly offering her chairs, water, food, and I imagine a chariot too. Meanwhile, I was fifteen weeks behind her, and I was dreaming about crawling into my bed when this thing was over, and it hadn’t even begun.
For an introvert with social anxiety, weeks of phone calls and in-person meetings had drained me. That was why I was currently in the kitchen with Bea, ostensibly to help her set up her charcuterie trays, but we both knew I was hiding.
Bea was in full concentration mode, creating roses out of meat, folding cheese artistically, arranging it all on large wooden trays that would be placed around the room for guests to graze from. My mouth was watering as I watched her. Somehow, she noticed, passing me a small cup of nuts, crackers, and dried apricots without even looking up.
“So…I had a run-in,” she stated, her movements smooth and efficient.
“A run-in?”
“With the billionaire.”
My Beatrice was a menace. There was something about her that caused men to walk into brick walls trying to get a look at her. Not only that, but she seemed to constantly find herself in the center of minor disasters. For the last two years, this often happened in the presence of her mysterious billionaire. She’d only seen him from behind and through the window of his limo, but she knew his driver’s name was Igor.
“Oh? Did you incite a riot? Cause a forest fire?”
She smirked as she worked. “Nothing so mundane. Benjamin and I were out for a walk in the park near our houses, and he found a puddle.”
“Oh no.” While Bea was frequently the center of disasters, Benjamin was even more frequently the cause of them.
“A muddy puddle. He managed to plant himself in it and soak every inch of his fur. Then he saw a squirrel.”
I cringed. “Oh no .”
“Oh yes . Naturally, I was distracted by the puddle, so when he darted after the squirrel, I wasn’t holding on to his leash as firmly as I should have been, and he escaped. Of course, the squirrel was headed straight for the road.”
“Then what?”
“Two men walking by heard me scream and dove for Benjamin—the worst thing they could’ve done. He hates men, and he really doesn’t like them diving at him.”
“Who does?” I quipped.
“Some people, I’m sure, but not me or Benjamin. Anyway, he dodged them, but one had such momentum he ended up on the road at the same time a delivery guy on a moped was driving by. Luckily, the delivery guy stopped in time, but pizza went flying everywhere.”
“Benjamin loves pizza.”
She nodded. “He loves it more than squirrels. He took a sharp turn and pounced on an entire pie that landed right next to…can you guess?”
“The limo.”
“Mmmhmm. I almost made it to him when he remembered he was soaked in puddle water. Naturally, he had to shake it off before he could eat.”
I pressed my fingers to my mouth. “Were the windows open?”
She finally turned to me, one brow arched. “Of course they were.
“Of course they were,” I repeated.
“By the time I contained my bad, bad dog, the windows were up, but I felt him looking at me. One day, I’m going to find out who that creep is and let Benjamin commit chaos all over him.”
“He’d probably enjoy that.”
“I know he would.”
The kitchen door swung open, and Kit marched in, Elliot hot on her heels.
“Everything’s ready out there. Guests will be arriving imminently.” Kit surveyed Bea’s creations. “These look delicious. Are you almost ready?”
Bea placed a final meat flower and made jazz hands. “I’m finished.” She snapped her fingers over her head, and four waiters appeared out of nowhere, ready to be ordered around.
Kit grinned at me as Bea led the guys carrying her trays out of the kitchen. “I like her. Men are scared of her, huh?”
“Scared, enthralled, confused.” I shrugged. “I’m sorry I was hiding.”
“No worries.” She hooked her arm through mine. “But no more hiding until later. I need you out there with me.”
I sucked in a deep breath and nodded decisively. “I’m here. Let’s go.”
The room filled with the one percent of Denver mingling, placing bids for yacht weekends, rugby boxes, jewelry, luxury vacations. Clara and Jake were checking out the auction items, along with her brother and sister-in-law, Luca and Saoirse Rossi. Rossi Motors had donated a gorgeous motorcycle to the cause. In another life, where I was wild and brave, I would have bid on it.
I stopped by the sheet for the rugby box, checking out the bids. It was getting some action but not enough for my liking, so I scribbled my identification number and a bid on the sheet.
“Are you allowed to do that?”
I spun around and looked up, already smiling before I laid eyes on Roman’s face. He grinned back at me, his eyes bouncing and lively. He’d been that way since the night I fell asleep on his couch, in a perpetual good mood. If I didn’t know any better, I would have mistaken him for Ben.
We’d shared a couple dinners over the last week, but what we hadn’t done was talk about the kiss. I’d figured them out on my own, though. We’d had a powerful, emotional moment, and Roman kissing me was a result of that.
Nothing more.
And we really weren’t talking about the second kiss.
“Well, hello.” I smoothed my dress down my sides. “I didn’t know you’d be here today.”
“I hear this is the place to be.” He pointed to the bid sheet. “You didn’t answer. Are you breaking the rules?”
I tucked my hair behind my ear even though it was already pinned there, then dropped my hand to my side so I wouldn’t fidget. “As far as I’m aware, my money spends the same as everyone else’s. If there’s a rule against it, I guess I’m breaking it.”
“Yeah.” He pumped his fist. “I’m into your rebellious side.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do.” His gaze swept over me, then he reached out to touch the silver barrette keeping my hair away from my face. “I like your hair like that. You look really pretty.”
Despite myself, my cheeks heated. I had taken great care with my hair, which was in smooth waves down my back, and my subtle, glowing makeup. My dress was burnt orange, flowy and feminine, grazing over my newfound curves, leaving only my shoulders and collarbone exposed. I’d felt good about myself when I’d looked in the mirror, but really pretty? I didn’t know about that.
“That’s nice of you to say, Roman.”
“I said it because it’s true.” His lightness evaporated as he frowned. “Do you not like how you look pregnant?”
“Oh, no.” I laid my hand on my bump. “I love this part of me.”
“As you should. The rest of you is just as sweet.”
“Okay.” I forced a smile and shifted the focus to him. In his dove-gray suit and light-blue tie, he looked like he belonged in an ad for the designer. “You look great too.”
“Thanks, Goldie.” He leaned in, dipping down. “Think between the two of us, we’re going to make one cute kid.”
I had no response to that, so I just smiled. “Have you bid on anything yet?”
“Not yet. I just got here. I was hoping I’d receive a personal escort to all the auction items. I hear there’s a motorcycle up for grabs.”
I grabbed his sleeve. “You’re not riding a motorcycle. I need you whole for Beanie.”
“Come on, Goldie.” He slipped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer. “You can’t see yourself on the back of my motorcycle?”
My nose scrunched. “Maybe if it wasn’t moving.”
He chuckled. “Isn’t your friend Clara a biker?”
“She is, but I’m no Clara.”
“No.” His expression turned warm, as did his gaze as it bounced over me. “As lovely as she is, I’m glad you’re you. I’m probably too big to ride a motorcycle anyway. And I’ve sustained enough head injuries to last a lifetime. I shouldn’t take any chances.”
My heart leaped into my throat. “Head injuries?” I didn’t like the sound of that.
“Can’t be a rugby player without getting a concussion or two.” He rapped on his skull with his fist. “Lucky for me, I’m pretty hardheaded.”
“You’re in a good mood,” I observed.
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’m here with you, and once this thing’s over, you won’t be so busy all the time. I’ll be able to lure you over for naps on my couch.”
“I can take naps on my own couch.”
“But I have the fuzzy blanket you like.”
“I could get my own,” I pointed out.
Roman stopped and turned to me, putting us almost face to face. “I hope you understand I’m trying to lure you over to spend time with you. Do you get that?”
His bluntness was a hard pill to swallow, making it too difficult to speak. All I could do was nod, and he tucked me into his side again.
“Good. We’re getting to be friends, Shira. I want to continue that so we’re rock solid once our boy’s here. Don’t you?”
Again, I nodded. That made more sense. This was all for the baby. Roman and I should definitely be friends. It would make everything easier in the long run.
“If that’s what you want.”
Again, he caught my gaze and locked it down. “Is that what you want?”
I was saved from responding when Clara and Jake approached. Roman and Jake were acquainted through his brother, Jeremy, so no introductions were necessary. Jake and Roman caught up with each other while Clara and I roamed the outskirts of the room to check out the auction items.
“Have you bid on anything yet?” I asked.
“Yes, but I’m not going to jinx it by telling you.” She quickly changed the subject. “You and Roman looked like you’ve turned a corner in your relationship. It seemed we interrupted something.”
“You didn’t. He was just declaring what good friends we’re going to be. It’s great—exactly what should happen.”
“That is absolutely ideal,” Clara agreed. “Jake and Carly are the best co-parents because they’re friends. It can work really well if you want it to.”
“I do want it to.”
We caught up to Bea and were chatting with her when I glanced to my side, catching sight of Roman standing by the bar, speaking to a tall, pretty brunette. Her hand was on his arm, and he was leaning toward her with familiarity. I didn’t know who she was, but they looked nice together. She was neither plain nor icy. Her smile was wide, stunning, and Roman answered it with one just as beautiful.
“Who’s that?” Bea asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “She’s pretty, though.”
“In an obvious sort of way,” Bea replied.
Clara chuffed. “You say that like obvious beauty is a bad thing.”
“I guess it’s not, but she’s not my type.” Bea crossed her arms and glared at the woman who had done nothing wrong except be pretty and stand near Roman. “What’s so funny? Why is he laughing?”
“You have no reason to be bitchy,” I said.
Bea scoffed. “There’s always a reason to be bitchy. In my opinion, it’s tacky for Roman to be flirting openly in front of the mother of his child. Do that behind bars.”
Clara laughed. “You mean behind closed doors.”
Bea arched an eyebrow. “Do I?”
As if sensing we were talking about him, Roman straightened and scanned the room, his eyes landing on me in moments. He smiled, but I averted my gaze. It wasn’t fair how off-balance he managed to make me.
One day, my heart wouldn’t pitter-patter every time Roman looked at me.
Today wasn’t that day.