Chapter 43
AMARA
“I feel like we need more streamers,” Electra says.
I cross my arms, looking up at the ceiling that has no less than two-hundred blue streamers hanging in the air. “I don’t think we can fit anymore.”
“I also think the pool boy will kill us if we ask him to get on the ladder one more time.” She giggles as we watch Fabio—or was it Rubio?—stretch his shoulders out on the deck after spending the last four hours taping blue strings of paper to the vaulted ceiling of the living room.
Electra’s eyes sweep around the rest of the room. “What’s it like living in a place like this?” she asks. “It’s a mansion. Actually, no. It’s a castle.”
“You want to know the truth?” I exhale. “It’s lonely. It’s kind of funny. Luxury isn’t as enjoyable when you’re always by yourself.”
“You’re not totally by yourself.” She rubs my belly and makes the baby move.
“I know.” I smile, looking down at the little bumps as they appear and disappear. “But still…”
“No, I get it. He can’t be much company while she’s still there.”
I look around the room. There are nine million blue streamers, and the tables are covered in white and silver table clothes.
Trays are set out for the food that will be catered tomorrow.
There are baby-themed favors and things for games.
Champagne glasses that will be used for sparkling pear juice, because I don’t want anyone drinking at a party that’s for me that I can’t drink at.
There will be a cake and gifts, flowers and everything else. And it’s all for me. For my baby. For a pregnancy that up until now has been a sworn secret. Something I’ve been forced to hide like I should be ashamed of it.
“What’s wrong?”
It’s not until Electra asks that I realize I’m crying.
Not ugly crying or anything like that. Even with the pregnancy hormones, I’m usually pretty good at not being too hot of a mess.
But there are tears streaming down my cheeks. And it hasn’t occurred to me until now how crazy this whole thing really is. “You know how I feel about living in an estate? Everything at my fingertips? Food bought for me and clothes bought for me?” I gesture around the place. “It’s weird.”
“Weird how?”
Electra and I sit down on the couch. I take a deep breath before going on.
“You know, I used to sit in my house with my siblings, watching my dad drink while he looked up at the clock on the wall.”
“My dad used to do the same thing,” she tells me. “Waiting for the Bills’ game to start.”
“My dad was waiting for my mom to come back. She never did.” I swallow hard.
“One day he threw his bottle at the clock. It knocked it off the wall and sent half a bottle of lite beer all over the cheap Christmas garland on the fireplace mantle. And all I could think was, I gotta get these kids out of here.”
“And you did,” she says.
“Yeah. To the middle of nowhere on the other side of the country. Meanwhile, I’m over here living in the most expensive neighborhood in New York City, spending more money on little triangle sandwiches than we used to spend on a week’s worth of groceries for all four of us.
” My voice breaks. Another fresh batch of tears falls.
“All for a baby shower for a baby that I have to hide.”
“Not for long,” Electra says. “Pretty soon you won’t be able to hide him, and it will just be what it is.
You and your grumpy, sexy boss will be so consumed by your new baby that nothing else will matter.
” She looks around. “Speaking of which, where is he? Isn’t he coming here tonight now that he and his betrothed are splitting? ”
I give a bittersweet smile. “He’s working, probably overnight.”
“God. The oil and gas industry literally never stops, does it?”
I shake my head.
Neither does the Bratva. Which is where he’s actually working.
“I get it, though,” she goes on. “Sean is working too. When I asked if he was going to come to the party, he really ripped me a new one. I mean, I know it’s a party for a baby and all, but I thought maybe he’d like to see me.
Recently he’s been M.I.A. all the time. And when he does call me, he’s usually raging about something. ”
I turn and look at her. “Like what? You hardly date. What could he possibly be mad about?”
It’s really starting to concern me that I’ve never met this guy. And it concerns me even more that when she talks about him, all the life seems to drain out of her face.
“He came by my apartment the other night and I wasn’t there. When I got back, he was waiting, and he…” she trails off. “Well. He was mad. He went off about how I should always be there when he needs me. Not at a bar getting tipsy and flirting with the bartenders.”
“Is that what you were doing?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
Electra snorts a little. “Of course not. I never go out anymore. I was at the pharmacy getting Midol. But he didn’t care.”
I turn towards my friend. “Electra, I really don’t think this guy is good for you.”
“He’s not always bad,” she says with a smile. It’s such a one-eighty from the way she was talking about him just moments ago, I can practically see the red flag whipping above our heads. “His job just makes him a little crazy sometimes.”
“Crazy like he hurts you?”
She doesn’t say yes. But she also doesn’t say no. For a moment, she doesn’t say anything at all.
“Electra…” I whisper. “Ransome is a powerful man. If you need help making Sean leave you alone…”
“I’m afraid of him,” she admits erratically. “I told him about the shower and he didn’t love the idea of me being here and helping you, and he got mad, and I have a feeling when I go home tonight he’s going to show up and try to tell me I can’t come tomorrow and—”
“Then don’t go,” I say, wrapping my arms around her.
“Ransome probably won’t be here tonight.
You don’t have to go home. Just stay here.
It’s a gated community. He can’t get in.
And even if he could, this place has more security than the white house,” I joke.
But I’m not really kidding. “Just stay the night. It’ll be fun. Like a sleepover.”
Electra nods and wipes her eyes, doing her best to smile. “Okay.”
“We can order food. Anything you want. And watch Twilight.”
“God, I forgot how many times we watched Twilight…” She laughs, and while I can tell she’s still on edge, she’s warming up.
“Gotta love that baseball scene,” I say, and that makes us both giggle.
We order Mexican food from a nearby place. In the meantime, I grab the Neapolitan ice cream out of the freezer. Lucky for me, she likes the vanilla.
And while we sit on the couch arguing over whether we are team Edward or team Jacob, I can’t help but feel very unsettled. This whole Sean thing has gotten out of hand. More than out of hand. I don’t care who he is or who he thinks he is.
Once I tell Ransome about him, he’s going to go away for good.