24. It’s My Party, and I’ll Ditch if I Want To
24
It’s My Party, and I’ll Ditch if I Want To
Wright: I don’t want to talk about my legacy.
Interviewer: Carly and Savannah talked to me. I even got Andrew’s mother.
Wright: Well, I won’t.
Interviewer: Come on, Tessa. I know you’re sitting on a pile of cash from god-knows-what. And you’ve given some significant donations to women’s health organizations. I want to hear what you have to say.
Wright: I have two words for you: Fuck. Off. Go enjoy your party.
Transcript from interview with Tessa Wright, mysteriously wealthy person
LUCIE
I only realized it was a fucking terrible idea to have my fortieth birthday party in a bar when I walked in the door and saw Tad sitting on a barstool. I needed a whiskey to dull the sharp edges of my irritation. But, sadly, being a responsible forty-year-old mom-to-be meant no whiskey for me. But then an evil idea fluttered into my sober brain.
I marched up to him. “Hey, Tad, what’s going on?”
He kept his gaze on the television. “Enjoying some late-season baseball and an after-work drink.” He tapped his martini glass. “Hey, Nico, can I get another?”
“You must have missed the sign on the door,” I said. “The bar closes at seven for a private party. And it’s five to seven, so you missed your last call.”
“Private party?” He looked away from the game. “I practically own the…whoa.”
His gaze settled on my seven-months-pregnant belly, which no longer looked like weight gain but like I’d strapped on a soccer ball. Instantly, I recognized I’d screwed this up. Tad would go running to Mario on Monday morning and spring the news on him. The news I’d hidden by (truthfully) claiming a sore back as an excuse to work from home. Shit.
“So that’s why you haven’t been in the office,” he said unnecessarily.
“My personal health conditions are none of your business,” I said through clenched teeth. I guessed now I’d be forced to reveal that I planned to take leave in a couple of months. Leave that federal and state law entitled me to.
“Sure they are,” he said, “when I’ll be forced to pick up the slack at the office. When are you due, anyway? It’s got to be soon.”
“November.”
“Really? With that belly, it must be fucking twins at least. Fertility treatments?”
I sucked in air through my nose. If I said what I wanted to say, he’d probably get so angry he wouldn’t wait for Monday to tell Mario. “I’m going to call you a rideshare, Tad. You can go drink somewhere else or go home. You can’t stay here.”
“I think my aunt Barb will have something to say about that,” he said. Then he leaned closer. “Though between you and me, when I take over this bar—and that’s a when, not an if—it’s going to get an upgrade. Think molecular mixology and haute cuisine.” His gaze took a leisurely tour from my clipped-up curls to my hand-me-down maternity dress to my combat boots, then back up to my face. “With a dress code. I’m not sure you’ll feel…comfortable here when that happens.”
My face and chest ignited. I filled my lungs to tell him off, but before I opened my mouth, a big hand squeezed my shoulder.
“Hey, Lucie. Tad.” Tad’s name was a growl in Danny’s chest. “Sorry, man, but the private party is starting, and you’re not on the guest list.”
“You can’t make me leave,” Tad said. “Aunt Barb will let me stay.”
“I don’t think she will,” Danny said. “Plus, none of the bartenders will serve you, so you might as well go.”
Tad narrowed his eyes at Danny, then at me. “There are ten better bars within walking distance.”
“Then you should walk to one of those better bars,” Danny said. “Be safe, Tad.”
With one last, mulish glare, Tad slipped off the stool and stalked out.
“Fucking asshole,” Danny muttered. He reached for his wallet and put a twenty on the bar. “Who the fuck doesn’t tip their bartender, especially when they drink for free?”
“Tad, that’s who,” I said. My racing heart slowed. Danny was more effective than my weighted blanket at muffling stress.
“Happy birthday.” He squeezed my shoulder again and released it, stepping away.
I missed his touch, but I stood my ground. You’re ten years older. Don’t tie him down. “Thank you.”
The door opened, and my three besties exploded into the bar. Andrew followed, clutching gift bags in one hand and an enormous bunch of balloons in the other.
“I’ll check on Leo,” Danny said.
“Stay.” I grabbed his hand. “Meet my friends.”
The slow smile that spread over his face was like the moon rising over mountains. “Okay.”
A second later, I was engulfed in hugs and squeals of “Happy birthday!”
“Sorry, we meant to get here earlier to help decorate,” Savannah said, “but I asked Carly if she could zhuzh me up, and it took a minute.” Her dress hugged her figure, and her gray roots were gone.
“You look fantastic,” I said. Her skin was poreless. Though no amount of makeup could disguise the dullness in her eyes from her struggles with her terrible husband. Thank goodness I’d never be in that situation. I clasped her hand.
“Thank you.” Her glossy lips turned up in a grin, not as wide as usual, but she was trying.
“Let me introduce you to Danny,” I said. “Danny, meet my friends Savannah and Tessa. You’ve already met Carly and Andrew.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” Savannah released my hand to enthusiastically pump Danny’s.
“You’re even yummier than Lucie said,” Tessa purred, letting her gaze linger on his broad chest.
Pain in my jaw made me realize I was grinding my teeth. “I never called him that.”
“Interesting,” Tessa said. “Did you see how she stepped in front of him, Carly?”
Carly chuckled. “I did.”
“Did no—” But then I felt his chest at my back. “Screw you,” I said.
“I think I’ll leave that to him.” Tessa’s smirk was pure evil. “Danny, where would I find a stepladder? Savannah says we need to put up streamers.” She lifted the box she was holding to show us the rainbow of crepe paper inside.
“I’ll hang them,” he said. “I don’t think our insurance covers guests on ladders.”
Tessa handed him the box, and he disappeared down the back hall.
“That wasn’t very nice,” Savannah chided Tessa.
“It was an experiment,” Tessa said. “And we all saw the results. You like him, Lucie.”
Feeling like a cornered animal, I lifted my chin. “We’re friends.”
“Friends with combustible sexual chemistry,” Tessa said.
“Which we’re not doing anything about. Anymore,” I amended. “I told you he’s ten years younger. It’d be irresponsible of me to confuse him and let him think anything permanent could happen between us.”
“You’re worried about ten years?” Tessa rolled her eyes. “Ask Carly how her thirteen-year age gap is going.”
“I don’t have to ask,” I muttered, carefully not looking at Carly’s glowing skin that I knew was caused by love and good sex on the regular, not by expensive cosmetics. “But it’s different with the baby. I don’t want him to feel trapped for the rest of his life because of a mistake.” Guilt panged in my abdomen. Why hadn’t I gotten that Plan B like I’d said I would?
“Fucking hell,” Tessa said. “Did your dress just move?”
“Is the baby kicking?” Savannah asked, her palm hovering over my belly. “Can I touch you?”
“Sure.” So what if it was the baby and not guilt that had kicked me in the gut? I still wouldn’t trap Danny into a relationship at only thirty years old.
Savannah laughed. “Right here! Come on, you two, she’s kicking my hand!”
Carly set her hand where Savannah’s had been. She grinned up at me. “That’s so exciting! We’re going to be aunts to a pro soccer player! Come on, Tessa, you want in on this?”
Tessa edged back. “I’m not going to touch Lucie’s stomach. I wouldn’t have done it before she was pregnant, and I’m not doing it now.”
I frowned at her. “It’s okay. I hate it when the cashier at the bodega rubs my belly, but I don’t mind when my friends do, especially if you ask first.”
She crossed her arms. “It’s a boundary thing. I don’t like people touching my body. So I’ll refrain from touching yours.”
Interesting. I’d have to try again to get an interview with Tessa. She never talked about her money or her past, which I found wildly intriguing. I’d refrained from unleashing my investigative journalism skills to dig up her story since it felt creepy to do that to a friend. Maybe if I plied her with Danny’s potent cocktails, she’d open up.
Danny emerged from the back with the stepladder, and Tessa went to supervise the decorations. Savannah, Carly, and I got drinks at the bar, and the room filled with friends and Danny’s family. What? So I’d asked Danny to invite them. They were sweet, even his cousin Tina with her lipstick kiss on Danny’s cheek. And they each brought me a little something: a bouquet of flowers or a tin of homemade cookies or a box of chocolates.
I wasn’t where I’d dreamed I’d be at forty, with a less-than-stellar career and an unplanned baby on the way, but I was…happy. I couldn’t blame booze for the warm, bubbly feeling in my chest. I was surrounded by people I liked on my birthday, people who hugged me and complimented me and told interesting stories.
I felt a prickle on the back of my neck. Danny was standing next to me, and we were laughing at something his uncle Rangi had said when I glanced over my shoulder and saw the last two people I’d ever expected to show up at Barb’s dive bar: my parents.
My father frowned like he’d entered a classroom of unruly freshmen. My mother wrinkled her nose. Shit! I’d texted her about the party out of a sense of obligation, but I hadn’t thought they’d actually come.
“Excuse me,” I muttered. I strode toward my parents, not sure if I wanted to protect them from the other guests or protect the other guests from them.
“Mom. Dad.” I kissed their cheeks. “What a surprise.”
“Of course we came to see you on your birthday,” my mother said. “We’re on our way to another party, but we had to stop by. Didn’t we, Marvin?”
“Who are all these people?” he asked, eyeing Uncle Gio, who’d had more than his share of prosecco and was doing some kind of kicking dance with a scarf tied around his expansive belly.
“They’re my friends,” I said. “And…family.”
My heart rate slowed when I sensed Danny’s solid shape at my side again. When I looked up at him, he was grinning.
He stuck out his hand. “You must be Lucie’s father. It’s nice to meet you, Dr. Knox. I’m Danny Carbone.”
When my dad shook Danny’s hand, I released the breath I’d been holding. Until he opened his mouth.
“So, you’re the one who did this to poor Lucie.” He skewered Danny with a glare.
“I, um—” Danny began.
“No, Dad,” I said. “He didn’t do anything to me. I fully participated. And I was the one who decided to keep the baby. Danny stepped up when I needed him. He’s brought me all kinds of baby things, and he makes sure I have enough to eat, and he’s going to my appointments with me. He’s a good guy, just like I told you at brunch.”
“You sound like a lovely young man, Danny,” my mother said. “Can I give you a hug?”
I noticed when Danny pulled his hand from my father’s, he shook it out a little. But then he embraced my mother, and seeing the two sweetest people I knew together made my eyes prickle.
Goddamn pregnancy hormones.
“We’re so glad Lucie’s found someone like you,” Mom said.
I didn’t know if it was pregnancy exhaustion, or the rebellion against my father that was hard coded into me, or one of those fucks Carly was always talking about flying away, but I didn’t bother to correct her. And when Danny stepped back from their hug and slipped his arm around my waist like it belonged there, I let him gather me closer.
“I’m glad too,” he said.
I glanced up at him. He’d had a couple of beers, enough to brighten his eyes. His lips were pink and plush, and I remembered all too well what he could do with them. I smiled at the memory, and he grinned back.
“Well, I don’t like it,” my father grumbled. “She’s ruining her chances at a successful career.”
A chill raced over my skin. I was sixteen again, and he was chiding me for missing the dean’s list one semester, telling me that brown women couldn’t make a mistake if they wanted to succeed in life. But then I remembered my research and stood straighter, like all those successful women were propping me up.
“I’ve interviewed a lot of women for my book. Many of them are mothers who also thrive in their careers. It’s possible to do both.”
“Possible, but challenging,” my mother said softly.
I looked away. I could never hope to live up to either of their ideals: the renowned university professor and author, or the perfect mother.
“If anyone can do it, Lucie can,” Danny said. He pulled me tighter.
“She’s going to need a lot of help.” Dad narrowed his eyes like Danny was a student who’d asked for an extension on a paper.
“I’ll be there for her. For them both. I promise.”
I shivered. His sexy lips tilted up, and his restless fingers rubbed circles on my hip. God, that was sexy. If we hadn’t been standing in a crowded bar, I’d have climbed him like a tree. I bit my lip to keep from saying something I’d regret in front of my parents.
“I like you, Danny,” Mom said. “I hope we’ll be seeing more of you in the future.”
My dad cleared his throat. “We should go, Ellen, or we’ll be late.”
“All right.” As she leaned in to kiss my cheek, she whispered, “It’s good to see you so happy.”
Happy? Was that what I was feeling? I shouldn’t be. I was desperately behind on my manuscript with an unplanned baby on the way. But the warm sensation behind my breastbone kind of felt like happiness.
Dad leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “If you need to ask for more time, let me know. I know some people at your publisher.”
My smile turned over. “I won’t need more time. I’ve got this.”
“Okay.” But I could tell he didn’t believe me. “Call your mother every once in a while.”
When they walked away, I sagged into Danny. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He kissed the top of my head. “I’m glad you introduced me to them.”
“Really?” I looked up at him, searching his eyes for the truth. “They can be kind of intense.”
“I like intense.” He brushed a curl off my cheek, his thumb lingering on my cheekbone.
My skin zinged. “What else do you like?” I brushed my lips over his palm.
His pupils dilated. “Your smarts. Your sense of humor. This ass.” He cupped it. “Your tits. They look amazing in that dress. And your smile, especially when it’s for me.” He tilted his head down and pressed his lips to mine.
My head spun like someone had slipped vodka into my mocktails. But it wasn’t alcohol that fuzzed my brain. It was Danny. His arms around me made me feel safe. His scent had become familiar and comforting. And his words acknowledged both my brain and the parts that craved his touch.
“Want to get out of here?” I asked.
“Yeah. Wait, no. This is your birthday party. You can’t just leave.”
“Can’t I?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “It’s my party, and I’ll ditch if I want to.”
“After you tell everyone goodbye. That’s how we Italians do it.”
I sighed. “Fine. But the longer this takes, the longer it’s going to be before I can suck your cock.”
His jaw steeled. “Let’s get started.”