She sat on the cushioned sofa along the back wall and took several deep breaths. She might be able to hide out in her apartment one more night, but then she seriously had to decide where she’d sleep tomorrow. In Tucker and Olivia’s penthouse? Or Constanzo Bartulocci’s? Once again accepting charity.
How long could she live like this? She did not have a home. She did not have a full-time job. She was pregnant by a man who thought her a slut. She was a failure.
Tears filled her eyes.
Oh, great. Now she’d upset herself.
She sucked in a breath, brushed away her tears and rose from the comfortable sofa. She might not be able to pretend she wasn’t in financial trouble, but for the next few hours she still had to feign happiness and fulfill her bridesmaid responsibilities.
In the plush hall outside the ladies’ room, she straightened her shoulders and drank in another fortifying breath. She could do this.
The first person she saw as she entered the ballroom was Antonio, so she walked in the other direction. The pull of her attraction to him was so strong today she could have melted in his arms when they danced, and that was just wrong. He was grieving a wonderful woman whom he’d adored. And Laura Beth herself had problems to solve before she could even consider flirting with someone, let alone melting into his arms.
Walking past laughing entrepreneurs, happy socialites and waiters serving champagne, she had a strange epiphany, or maybe a rush of reality. She was only here because of her roommates. In the four years since she’d been invited into this rarified world by Olivia and Eloise, they had not only found their true callings, but they had fallen for the loves of their lives—while she hadn’t found squat. Rubbing elbows with executives, she hadn’t been able to prove herself enough to anyone to get a full-time job. And despite being in front of all these gorgeous eligible bachelors, she hadn’t yet found a man who wanted her.
Maybe her problem wasn’t that there was something wrong with her. Maybe she was in the wrong class of people. After all, she’d grown up blue-collar. Why did she believe that just because her friends fit into the glitzy, glamorous world of billionaires, she should fit in, too?
Maybe this whole mess—her inability to get a full-time job, her inability to keep her apartment and her pregnancy—was a wake-up call from the universe. Hey, Laura Beth, you’re in the wrong crowd. That’s why you’re failing!
It made so much sense that she stopped short, not quite at the open bar.
The answer was so obvious it stunned her. Though she would always be friends with Olivia and Eloise, she didn’t belong in this part of their world. She was common. Normal. Not that there was anything wrong with that. It was more that a common person, someone who didn’t fit in this world, would always come up short. But if she were to jump off her high horse and get a normal job, she would probably be very happy right now.
If only because she would get to be herself.
* * *
Antonio almost groaned when his dad sidled up to him at the bar. “So have you given any thought to my suggestion about a personal assistant?”
As much as Antonio loved his dad, he did have moments when he wished the old billionaire would just get lost.
“Dad, how about letting this go?”
“I think it’s the answer to your problems.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his partner for the wedding, Laura Beth, walk up beside him and order a ginger ale from the bartender. He would only have to tap her arm and snag her attention to get himself out of this conversation. But how fair was that? Not only did he need to put his foot down with his dad, but Laura Beth obviously wanted to be left alone. It wouldn’t be right to drag her into his drama.
He sucked in a breath and smiled at his dad. There was only one way to stop Constanzo—pretend to agree. Albeit temporarily. “You know what? I will think about the PA.” It really wasn’t a lie. He would think about hiring a PA, but that was as far as it would go. There was no way he wanted a stranger in his house. No way he wanted someone going through his things. No way he wanted a stranger to accidentally stumble upon any of his wife’s deceit when rummaging through papers or files or phone records while trying to organize him.
Constanzo’s face lit. “You will?”
“Sure.”
“And maybe start painting again?”
He stole a glance at Laura Beth, suddenly wishing he could capture that faraway look in her eyes, the expression that was half-wistful, half-sad. She was so naturally beautiful. High cheekbones gave her face a sculpted look that would serve her well as she aged. And her bounty of hair? He could see himself undoing that fancy hairdo and fanning his fingers through the silken strands to loosen it, right before he kissed her.
What? Where had that come from?
He shook his head to clear it, deciding it was time to get away from his dad before he had any more crazy thoughts.
He faced Constanzo. “I’ll paint when I paint. Now, I need to get mingling again.”
As he walked away from the bar, he noticed his dad bridging the gap between himself and Laura Beth and sighed with relief. This meant his dad wouldn’t follow him. Besides which, it would help Laura Beth get her mind off her troubles. When he wasn’t hounding Antonio about something or another in his life, Constanzo Bartulocci could be a very funny guy.
* * *
Laura Beth glanced at Constanzo and pasted a smile on her face. Now that she recognized she didn’t belong in this crowd, that she was pretending to be someone she wasn’t, she knew exactly what to do: enjoy the rest of the wedding, then get busy finding a normal job and some new roommates. Whoever she chose couldn’t ever replace Olivia and Eloise—no one would ever replace her two best friends—but she’d make it work.
“You seem sad tonight.”
Laura Beth nodded and smiled at Constanzo. He was like everybody’s rich uncle. But he didn’t flaunt his money. He made people laugh. He’d made her laugh at more than one of Olivia and Tucker’s family events. It wasn’t unusual or out of line for her to confide. She simply wouldn’t tell him everything.
“My second roommate got married today,” she said, taking advantage of the obvious. “I’m not exactly an old maid, but I’m on the road.”
Constanzo laughed. “You Americans. What is this old maid thing? Can’t a woman mature and enjoy life without being married?”
She laughed lightly. That was exactly the attitude she needed to cultivate. “Actually, yes, she can.”
“Good. A woman doesn’t need a man. She should want a man in her life. But he should complement her, not define her.”
She toasted him with her glass of ginger ale. “Wise words.”
“So, now that we’ve settled the old maid issue, what else has made you sad?”
“I’m fine.”
He studied her face, then shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Jeez. You’re as perceptive as Antonio.”
“Where do you think he gets it?”
“I thought it was the artist in him.”
Constanzo