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Mommy loves you. Everything will be all right. I promise.Chapter EightI was dying to show Kinsley and Ariana the ultrasound pictures I had tucked away in my purse, but I knew I couldn’t risk it here among the sea of people at the book signing. It was probably not a smart thing for me even to have brought them, but I thought maybe I would be able to safely give my sisters a peek. Besides, the pictures of my cutie were like a talisman to me that I wanted to keep close by. My little cutie who measured too big for the due date. Thankfully, Dr. Paulson shrugged it off as not a big deal. Though she did have me reiterate the start date of my last period. I told her the baby was destined to be an overachiever, considering who the father was. That was true.
I found a quiet corner with a comfy chair near the women’s fiction section and settled in away from the main action. I felt as if I were in a movie watching people swirl around me in cocktail dresses, sipping on champagne. So not my crowd. Not to say I hadn’t been to some ritzy parties with Brock over the years, but somehow it seemed different now that I bore his last name.
From my vantage point I could see Brock in the thick of things with Jonah and Miles near the signing table at the front of the vintage-chic bookstore. The press and fans surrounded them, as well as large cutouts of the book cover, which sported an IV bag of blood with a creepy font for the title—Harvest of Blood. Ariana dazzled by Jonah’s side in a shimmering gold number. Aspen, Miles’s wife, was also with them. She glowed at eight months pregnant in a flutter-sleeve maternity gown. Her golden-brown hair was done in waterfall curls. She was absolutely stunning. I prayed I would look as good as her when I was that far along.
I supposed I should have been up there supporting my husband. I felt, though, that I had done my part when we’d walked in together, all smiles for the camera with Brock’s arm around me. Pretending was exhausting, as was growing a life, so I sat in my chair and sipped on ginger ale in hopes of not vomiting. Although, I had to say it was nice to see Brock more relaxed than he had been. I think he appreciated that the focus was directed more toward Miles than him. Everyone around here was still in awe of the British author who was as famous as he was handsome. And when people did ask Brock questions, it was more related to the medical expertise he’d offered for the book than his harrowing escape or even our marriage.
Kinsley sneaked away from her catering duties and pulled up a chair near me. “You look gorgeous."
I crossed my legs and glanced down at my black off-the-shoulder lace cocktail dress. “Thank you. People are loving the food. I’ve especially heard people rave about your tomato, herb, and ricotta tarts. I’m dying to try one, but if I do, I may die,” I whispered.
She leaned in and for my ears only replied, “When you feel better, I’ll make you anything you want.”
“You’re the best.” I caught a glimpse of her business partners—the other chefs she worked with, Carter and Giselle—mingling among the crowd, carrying trays of hors d’oeuvres. “How goes it with those two?” I growled. If I felt better, I probably would have had words by now with the spoiled brats who frequently made Kinsley feel like a second-class citizen, though she was a full partner in the restaurant and had the reputation as the best chef among them. I’d been wanting to go all big sister crazy on them, but now I had a reputation to uphold.
Kinsley shrugged her shoulders. “I’d rather not talk about them.”
“Point taken.”
Kinsley was a tenderhearted soul who wore her emotions on her sleeve. I wished she could see how amazing she was and not let others’ opinions of her tear her down. If I could, I would buy her partners out and let her have the run of Two Girls and a Guy. But even if I could afford it, she wouldn’t take it. Ariana had already tried to help her out after she’d inherited a large sum of money from her late grandfather. The money had some unsettling motives surrounding it, so Ariana didn’t want to keep it. Instead she’d offered it to help Children to Love and Kinsley. Kinsley wouldn’t take a dime. She felt the kids in my program needed it more. She had the best heart. I hated that it was so broken.
To shatter it some more, Brant and Jill walked in. It made poor Kinsley jump up. “Break time is over. I’ll talk to you later.”
