Whitney nodded and dabbed at the tears coating her eyes. “I’m fourteen weeks along. I’m due around Christmas.”
I jumped out of my seat and slid to the other side of the booth, wrapping Whitney in a group hug as my stomach sank. “I’m so happy for you!”
“How has Miles handled it?” Wander asked as I went back to my side of the booth.
Whitney laughed. “He’s ecstatic. I made him wait to tell people until we were out of the first trimester. I swear he was about to explode.” Her eyes were wistful and full of love. “He’s going to be the best dad.”
“That’s because he’s still a kid at heart,” I said.
Wander laughed. “True.”
Thankfully, the server came back with Wander’s and Whitney’s drinks and took our orders.
“What about you and Jack?” Whitney asked. “Making any firefighting, author-ly babies anytime soon?”
Wander laughed. “We’re still in the honeymoon stage. We’re happy just being cheesy newlyweds for now.”
She looked blissfully happy. Was her glow from living at the beach or from regular sex?
I loved Whitney and Wander with everything in me, but I couldn’t help but feel like I was constantly falling behind. They were happily married and settled. Now, there would be a baby in the mix.
And here I was—the last single one in the group with zero prospects, a car packed to move at a moment’s notice, and no permanent address.
I was just fine with my life until I was reminded of how happy they were.
I wanted to be happy too.
“Did you guys see that Ryan Ford is giving the keynote address at the conference tomorrow?" Whitney asked as she squeezed the lime wedge into her water.
I stuck my tongue out and pretended to gag before downing half of my margarita in one sip. “That was a choice.”
Wander snickered. “Why do you hate him so much?”
I held up my fingers and ticked off my points one by one. “This is a publishing conference for romance authors. He’s not a romance author. Second. Keynote speaker? Please. All he does is make bro jokes and use sports analogies on the internet. He’s obnoxious. No one needs that. Third, he’s a scam artist. A twelve-step program that can makeanyonefall in love? It’s highway robbery.”
Whitney lifted a brow. “Wow. That’s a lot of time spent thinking about someone you supposedly hate. Honestly, I’m curious about what his speech is about.”
I rolled my eyes but bit my tongue as the server doled out plates that were piled high.
“I’m just saying. You or Wander should have gotten the keynote. Wander came back after horrendous writer’s b-l-o-c-k, had a huge comeback, found out she’s like...a dynasty author or something, and published her aunt’s book. That would be a hell of a keynote address.”
Wander shook her head. “I have no interest in being a keynote speaker. Panelist? Sure. I can banter with you guys all day. A full speech? Absolutely not.”
I looked at Whitney. “They should have had you. You had a stalker, got kidnapped, escaped, and fell in love with your bodyguard. That’s a hell of a story.”
Whitney placed her hands delicately on her stomach. “I’ve thrown up for the last three months. I didn’t even know if I would be able to make it through the conference panels until the nausea eased up last week.”
Okay. Maybe I wasn’t jealous of that part.
I loaded my fork with rice and refried beans. “Literally anyone but him. That's all I'm saying. It’s an industry conference, and he isn’t part of the industry.”
“Doesn’t he have, like, a million followers online?” Wander asked as she stuffed her face with an enchilada. “They’re probably using him to get new eyes on the conference,” she said with her mouth full.
“Yes,” I said, pointing my fork at her. “A million men who want to hear some egotistical ass potato yap into a mic in thirty-second sound bites.” I rolled my eyes. “But hey, here’s the bright side. Since we have to be on stage with him for forty-five minutes, I’ll have forty-five minutes of in-person research for the villain in my next book.”
Whitney choked on her water and pressed her palm to her chest as she caught her breath. “Okay, Miss Enemies-to-Lovers. I see you.”
“Nope,” I said with extra emphasis on theP. “He won’t be the love interest. I’ll kill him off in some fantastically gruesome way. Figuring out his demise will help me smile on stage tomorrow instead of glaring daggers through the back of that man’s Ken doll hair.”
