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“Please, don’t cry, baby,” Amelia says, rushing over to hug him and widening her eyes at me over his shoulder, mouthingOh my God. “It’s okay. Let’s take a walk, and then maybe you’ll be ready to say hi.”
He nods as Amelia pulls him away. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds good.”
Shaking my head and laughing, I turn back to the group. Nick, Jeffrey, and Damien are crowding the boys while Charlotte stands to the side, frantically texting on her phone.
I move to stand beside her. “I’m sorry. We knew the boys meeting Maddox was going to be entertaining, but I never imagined Damien was going to invite them to your wedding.”
“Yeah, you and me both.” She looks up and smiles at Damien. “It’s okay, though. He’s so fucking happy about it that I’m pretty sure I’m going to be hearing about this now every day until then.”
“Only three weeks left,” I say, bumping my shoulder with hers.
“I know.” She looks over at Maddox, who’s staring at us. “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Maddox’s eagerness to accept the invitation was because of you.”
“Oh, no.” I scoff. “He just loves his fans. Our working relationship has been much better since I put him in a ballgown, too.”
Charlotte arches a brow. “You sure that’s all that’s going on?”
“Uh-huh,” I reply without meeting her eyes, and then I head back over to Hayden, Vince, and the man who is going to be getting a not-so-pleasant phone call from me tonight for putting me in this position.
I hate lying to my friend, but now is not the time to reveal my indiscretions in front of multiple witnesses and thousands of citizens of Los Angeles. So instead, I focus back on work while still keeping my secret relationship close to the vest.
“Come on, boys. Let’s get you checked in and to your assigned stations.”
Hayden rubs his palms together. “I’m ready, Penelope. Let’s play with some puppies.”
* * *
The morning goes swimmingly. The boys made quite an impression on the people of LA who turned up at the event, especially the women. And I’m not going to lie—watching them pose while holding puppies was like an estrogen hit for any pair of ovaries, mine included.
Maybe a calendar of the team full of photos from the event is the next marketing move we make?
*Raises hand in the air.* “I’ll take four, please. One for me, and three for my best friends.”
I can hear the screaming now.
While the boys gave some puppies baths and helped with adoption paperwork, I made sure to take plenty of photos and run the booth that we set up to raffle off season tickets for the Bolts.
All in all, I’d say the day was a success, and in about thirty minutes, the employees from the shelter will be serving lunch for all of the volunteers. I leave one of my associates in charge of the booth while I walk off to find Maddox and the guys so I can congratulate them on an awesome event.
But then I run into Noelle.
“Sorry I’m so late. I lost track of time while reading, and then my video meeting went over.” She reaches into her shirt and pulls out what appears to be a chicken nugget.
“Um, that’s okay.” I shake my head at her. “I’m sorry, but is that a chicken nugget?”
She rips half of it with her teeth and talks to me while chewing. “Yeah. So?”
“Do you always walk around with chicken nuggets in your bra?”
She sighs. “No, but I am starving right now. I was eating them on the way over but wasn’t finished, so I just decided to stick them in there instead of bringing in the bag and my purse.” She pauses and then stares down at the other half of the nugget in her hand. “I put them in a napkin, though, if it makes it any better.” She pops the rest of the nugget in her mouth. “Now that I think about it, it does seem kind of odd.”
I chuckle at my friend who, in a few years, just might find chicken nuggets in her bra that her child put in there. “You know, I think it’s innovative.” Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I lead her over to the table where Maddox, Hayden, Vince, Jeffrey, Damien, Nick, and Ethan are all standing, chatting about manly things, I presume. “You might be on to something.”
“You’re not just saying that?” she asks around another mouthful of food, questioning her own sanity right now, I’m sure.
“No, babe. And you look good. Better than you did last weekend.”
Last Sunday at brunch, I thought Noelle was going to toss her cookies at the table. The smells and sights of certain foods were making her nauseous beyond belief. Stuff like that just makes mesoexcited for what I might experience during pregnancy one day.
