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“Gotta keep you on your toes, Mak.” Sofi lifts her glass to salute him. “And I have to say, not bad. I like the new drink menu.”
“The mocktails are amazing,” I add. “Usually, they’re a sad reminder of what I can’t have.”
He grins and cocks his head to one side. “Yeah, well, can’t be serving my sister-in-law watered-down bullshit.”
“I’m not your… I mean, thank you. Really. But I’m just the girlfriend.”
Both siblings snort. “I won’t even dignify that with a response,” Mak sighs. He turns his sights on Hazel. “And you must be the maid of honor.”
She blushes. Sofi shoots him a warning look that he reluctantly obeys.
“Well, I guess I better make the rounds. Need to at least look like a responsible host.” He gives Hazel one more smoldering smile. “Let me know if there’s anything you need.”
Hazel waits until he’s well out of earshot before she opens her mouth. “Please tell me that man is single.”
“He’s unavailable.”
I look at Sofi with no small amount of confusion. “Since when? I haven’t seen him with anyone.”
“He’s got his commitments.”
Hazel takes another long sip of her martini with Okay, then… stamped on her face. “Well, let me know when you change your mind. I happen to have a hot older brother who is single and definitely your type.”
Sofi doesn’t answer. Instead, she stretches, stands, then holds her hand out to Hazel. “Come on. That dance floor looks like it needs us ‘goddesses’ to spice things up.”
“You coming, Daph?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Trust me, you don’t want me out there. I’m basically a wrecking ball with legs.”
I’m also dealing with swollen ankles and swollen feet and swollen… everything. Which drags my mind back to the confrontation with my parents earlier. Ophelia wasn’t wrong—I’m bloated and swollen and probably can’t blame all the weight gain on my baby.
But where she was wrong is how it affects my value. My worth.
It’s so fucked-up that my own flesh and blood go around thinking I’ve diminished in value—and decreased theirs to boot—by deciding to keep my child. To them, I’m an ugly counterpart to the slim-and-trim Daphne Hamish. I’m her rebellious shadow.
I pull up Pasha’s contact card on my phone and smile at his pensive expression in the photo. To him, I’m everything. To him, I keep growing more beautiful and more valuable every single day—and he never hesitates to tell me about it.
To him, I’m the best version of myself.
I peek around to make sure no one is looking in this general direction.
Then I tug down my dress just enough to send him a juicy cleavage shot.
At the club with the girls, I text. Think I can do body shots now? I got plenty to work with ;)
Three songs later, Hazel and Sofi stumble back into our booth laughing their asses off and signaling for refills. I just laugh with them and accept the new mocktail martini when it arrives.
“It’s too bad Pash couldn’t make it.” Hazel nods to the crowd on the dance floor. “You’re turning enough heads to start a war.”
“Probably a good thing he’s not here, then. He might actually start one.” Sofi looks at me. “Hey, we’re gonna go back out and torment some other guys now. You good?”
“Play nice!” I dismiss them with a wave of my fingers. Right on cue, my phone buzzes in my hand.
A few minutes later, my phone buzzes in my hand.
PASHA: On my way. Be ready.
I bite my lip and wonder if I should get at least one song in my system… or should I find a more private booth? Maybe both?
