Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMMA
“ I ’ve got a late meeting today,” Charlie said, sliding a plate of dry toast in front of me. “Might not be home until after eight.”
I nodded, my stomach churning at the smell of his pancakes. “No problem. I’ll probably just catch up on some reading.”
Three weeks had passed since our movie night and I hadn’t tried to kiss him again. Charlie sat at the kitchen table across from me, sipping his coffee. Nothing seemed to have changed with him.
“Oh, there’s a premiere next week for one of my clients. Want to come? It could be fun.”
My hand froze halfway to my mouth, a piece of toast dangling in the air. A premiere? With my swollen ankles and ever-expanding waistline? I pictured myself waddling down the red carpet, feeling like a beached whale next to the stick-thin starlets.
“Thanks, but I’ll pass.” I forced a smile. “I’ve got a video call with a client that night.”
It was a lie, but Charlie didn’t need to know that. I wanted the man to be attracted to me — pointing out my flaws would be the absolute worst thing to do.
He nodded. “For the next one then. Feels like there’s one nearly every week through the summer.”
“Do you have to go to them all?”
“Fuck no. I’d never get anything done. My calendar already scares me.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “I have to attend my clients’ premieres, but the rest are a choice. Sometimes I go to others if I’m interested in the project or I need to make a connection.”
The thought of him at those events with beautiful starlets made my stomach twist uncomfortably. I ignored it. Or tried to.
“How is the business going?” he asked, his brow creasing with concern. “Any luck getting those clients back?”
I sighed, setting down my toast. “Not great. Two more weddings dropped this week. At this rate, I’ll be out of business before the baby arrives.”
Charlie’s face fell. “I’m sorry, Em. Is there anything I can do to help?”
I shook my head, fighting back tears. Damn hormones. “Unless you can magically make me not pregnant and fix my reputation, I don’t think so.”
I clamped my mouth shut, horrified at my own words. I didn’t mean that. Not really. My hand instinctively moved to my belly, a silent apology to my little peanut.
I want you, I promise. I just... wish you were here already.
The thought of holding my baby, of finally being free from the constant nausea, the swollen ankles, the backaches — how could I be so selfish?
“Maybe you could set up business here after the baby comes?”
I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil of emotions churning inside me. “Maybe. I don’t know if LA is ready for my brand of New York wedding magic.”
Twenty-three weeks. That’s how long I had left of this pregnancy. Twenty-three weeks of feeling more and more like a stranger in my own skin. The image of a leggy blonde draped over his arm at a premiere flashed through my mind. She’d be wearing something slinky and sophisticated, not struggling to fit into stretchy leggings. She wouldn’t have to worry about morning sickness or heartburn or any of the million other indignities of pregnancy.
Stop it. You’re being ridiculous.
But was I? He was handsome, successful, kind. What was stopping him from finding someone who didn’t come with all this baggage?
“You okay? You zoned out there for a second.”
I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the plate I’d been staring at for who knew how long. I glanced up to find Charlie watching me with a concerned line between his brows. The urge to reach over and smooth it away made my fingers twitch.
“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about... the baby.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie.
“I was just saying that with your talent, I’m sure you could corner the market on celebrity weddings out here.”
That ugly twisting feeling hit my stomach again.
“Right, because every starlet dreams of having her wedding planned by a washed-up New Yorker with a baby on her hip.”
Charlie’s brow furrowed. “Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re incredibly talented, Em. Any bride would be lucky to have you plan their wedding.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, dropping my gaze to my plate. “I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
“It’s more than that, love.” He smiled at me. “I’d be happy to hook you up with some of my contacts. I’m sure between me and my assistant we could have you back up and running in no time.”
Why would I stay in LA once the baby came?
“I ordered you something.” He grinned, that excitement lighting up his face again. “A pregnancy pillow. Read they help with getting comfortable in bed.”
“Thanks,” I murmured, forcing a smile. “That’s really sweet of you.”
As Charlie rambled on about the pillow’s benefits, a spark of determination ignited within me. No way in hell was I going to let some Hollywood starlet or leggy model swoop in and steal him. Time to pull out the big guns. If subtlety wasn’t working, maybe it was time to go nuclear. I’d make him see me as more than just his pregnant roommate, even if it killed me.