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“Terrible. Morning sickness every hour of the day. Swollen ankles. And all I want is a freaking vodka shot. Why did your mother think this cocktail party would be a good idea?”
“Hey, I’m not claiming her,” I said. “Look at Doug.”
She frowned. “I heard about Dax and your apartment. I’m so sorry. Are you sure you don’t want to come stay with us?”
Fucking Mrs. Cronckle.
“It would be weird,” I said. “And besides, you’re about to have a new baby. You hardly need me in your way while you’re preparing.”
As though instinctively, she put her arms over her growing stomach. “You’re using the baby as a cover. You just don’t want to see your mom more than you have to.”
“That too.” I laughed. Right now, I really could have used that rum and Coke, but I looked toward the bar and saw Dad deep in conversation with one of his business associates. It would be hours before I got my drink—if he even remembered.
“You know,” Anthea said, “Doug still loves you, even though you two went different directions.”
I sighed. “I know.” But he resented me too. While I went to college and shirked what our parents saw as a family obligation, Doug was being trained to take over my father’s insurance company.
He didn’t need to say it out loud for me to know he felt like I’d gotten a life of freedom while he was chained with golden handcuffs. He just didn’t know that he could take them off. But I couldn’t talk with his wife about that. “Let’s talk about someone else.”
“Someone?” Anthea asked.
Under her investigator-lamp gaze, my cheeks felt hot. “I meant something,” I said quickly, shifting my gaze toward the pristine pool.
“Who’s the guy?”
I would have said no one, if I weren’t already smiling. I reached up and scratched my neck. “It’s nothing, really. I met this guy, but I was a complete spaz and can’t show my face in public ever again.”
Now she was interested. “Who is it? Maybe I know him.”
“Probably.” I shrugged. “You know everyone.”
“So...”
I narrowed my eyes but couldn’t keep up the gaze for long without smiling. “Okay, promise if I tell you his name, you won’t get involved?”
She crossed her finger over her chest. “Who?”
“Cohen Bardot? He owns that club on Watercrest.”
Her mouth fell open. “Seriously? He is sohot.”
My brother came up behind Anthea and wrapped his arms around her. “Who’s hot?”
“No one,” I said before Anthea could tell him. I gave her a look, asking her to keep it a secret.
“Some actor,” she said. “How are you, babe?”
“Good. Need another mocktail?”
Anthea rolled her eyes toward the sky. “That’sexactlywhat I need. Another Shirley Temple to make this heartburn even worse.”
Doug cringed, and sensing the danger zone, changed the subject to me. “Sorry about Dax, sis.” In the same breath, he added, “You know this guy just started at the firm that Mom wants to introduce you to. Maybe you two will hit it off?”
I frowned. “I think I’m swearing off men forever.”
“In that case, perhaps the new CFO. She’s pretty hot.”
Anthea elbowed him in the gut.