When Father turns and marches away, I close my door, sagging against it. That was close. God, I can’t even stand up to him when it comes to little things like this.
How in the world am I ever going to explain my pregnancy?
And, holy hell, if he ever finds out that the father is Connor, he’s probably going to keel over from a heart attack and die. And I do not want to live with that kind of guilt.
For the time being, I’m not telling anyone. It’s our little secret, I think and lay a hand against my flat stomach. The problem is I’m not sure how much longer my stomach will remain flat.
Already, I can feel the differences in my body. It’s only a matter of time until the entire world knows. When my belly is so swollen with Connor’s baby then there won’t be any more hiding it from anyone.
Trying to distract myself, I start getting ready for the event tonight. I’ve got plenty of time to kill until we leave, so I put in some extra effort with my makeup and hair. Then I choose a dress I’ve never worn, but always loved. It’s a long, red silky number that hugs my curves perfectly. I love the flattering way it skims down my body and though it isn’t low-cut, it’s sleeveless and the back dips low.
Who knows when I’ll be able to wear it again, so I may as well enjoy it tonight.
The day slips by fast and before I know it, my dad and I are in an Escalade, surrounded by security detail, and pulling up to the art museum where the event is being held. A bodyguard opens my door and I slip out, smoothing my hands down my dress and finding my footing in my strappy, sky-high heels. A light breeze lifts my long, loose dark hair and I move up beside Father.
Together, we walk up the stairs and step into the building.
The usual hoity-toity crowd is present and I’m expecting a very dry and dull evening. Even so, I’m going to enjoy myself because I haven’t gone out in a while like this, all dressed up and feeling glamorous. Pretty soon I’m going to be big as a whale, so I figure I may enjoy tonight as much as possible.
Father wanders off to talk to business associates and I find myself aimlessly wandering through the crowd. A server stops and offers me a glass of champagne which I accept with a thank you. As I lift the glass to my 5 lips, I suddenly freeze. Shit. I can’t drink alcohol. Glancing around, I set the untouched glass on a table as I pass by.
Oops. I need to be more careful and start paying attention to what I’m putting in my body. I eat pretty healthy for the most part, but it’s time to do better now that I’m feeding the little sprout inside me, too. The doctor gave me prenatal vitamins, so I did start taking those. Tonight, they’re just serving drinks and hors d’oeuvres and I look around at the passing trays.
Suddenly, I’m craving something sweet, and I end up settling on a petit fours. Well, so much for eating healthier. But it hits the spot and I’m licking the frosting off my lips when my gaze skims over the back of a very tall man with thick, dark hair wearing a black tuxedo. Something about him snags my attention and I tilt my head, studying him, when he suddenly turns around.
Oh. My. God.
My heart crashes against my rib cage when I instantly recognize Connor Mennetti. Those bright blue eyes meet mine and surprise flashes through them. Standing there with frosting still on my fingers from the little cake, I spin around and take off. I have no idea where I’m going, but all I know is I need to get away from Connor.
I lick my fingers, pick up my skirts and duck into a side room. Passing through fast, I disappear into an adjoining gallery where the lighting is much dimmer. This part of the museum is closed and away from the party.
Letting out a soft breath, I circle around an exhibit, wondering where the nearest exit is when I hear that deep voice that’s haunted my dreams for the past two months.
“Trish?”
Freezing, a tremble runs through my body as I slowly turn around to face the father of my child.