“Thank you,” I squeak.
My parents may have forgotten I was born today, but Isabella never forgets. I’m filled with warmth for my friend. Since she married Raiden, the MC has become her second family, and they seem to have adopted me as well.
Sydney hands me a cocktail. She’s Bit Rate’s sister and has recently returned to the mountain. “Happy birthday, hon.” Her silver bracelets jangle in my ears as she hugs me, and I get a waft of her strong perfume.
I sip the cocktail. I'm not a big drinker, but it is my birthday. More people step up to say, “Happy Birthday,” and I’m caught saying hello and catching up with the eclectic group of people who have become my friends. When I look around, Specs has faded into the crowd.
The lights go dim, and everyone starts singing “Happy Birthday.” Maggie comes out with a chocolate cake with blazing candles and sets it on the bar.
“Make a wish, bella,” says Isabella.
I close my eyes and think about the one thing I want. Next birthday, I don’t want to spend the entire day alone. I open my eyes and blow out the candles. As I do, my eyes meet Specs’s over the bar. He smiles and nods, and warmth fills me from the inside out.
“Birthday shots,” says Isabella.
My face falls and I tense.
“Only joking,” she cackles. “I’m pregnant, and you don’t do shots. But here, have birthday cake instead.”
Maggie cuts me a large slice, and I retreat to a table as everyone crowds the bar to grab their piece. As they do, I wonder if it’s an opportunity to sneak away. Not that I don’t like a party—I appreciate everyone being here—but after an hour of talking to people, my energy is waning.
One of the rooms at the clubhouse has been made into a nursery for the kids, and it’s often quiet. I take my cake and head in there.
Marco is asleep in the crib, and one of the older kids is playing with Legos.
I take the armchair in the corner, and with my cake in hand, I pull out my book;A Curvy Nanny for the Alien Overlord.I set the bookmark down on the armrest and settle in.
I’m not sure how much time has passed, but I’m startled by someone coming into the room. I look up to see Specs.
“Thought I might find you in here.”
He takes the armchair next to me, and as he sits down, his thigh brushes against mine. Sparks of heat shoot up my leg. I squeeze my thighs together and focus my attention on the man.
Specs picks up the invite I’ve been using as a bookmark and frowns as he reads it.
“I didn’t think you liked parties.”
“I don’t.” I frown, wondering if I sound ungrateful. “Except for birthday parties that have been thrown for me. They’re great.”
Specs chuckles. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I’m the same. I like seeing my people—but an hour or two will do.”
He studies the invite, and his finger traces the gold edging. “This looks fancy.”
“My parents sent it to me. Can you believe that? In the actual mail.”
Specs raises his eyebrows. “Don’t you live with your parents?”
“Yeah.” I sigh.
“Why didn’t they just give it to you?”
“I don’t know. It came in the mail today. I thought it was a birthday card.
“Ouch,” He mutters.
“It’s an annual party they throw for all their suppliers and distributors. It will be nothing like this casual get together at the clubhouse. No kids allowed, no cake, not shots.
“Everyone will look the same; the men in suits, the women in tasteful two-pieces, with designer jewelry and high heels. There will be champagne and waitstaff in matching uniforms and hors d'oeuvres so tiny you have to eat fifty of them to feel full.”
