Page 71 of Legacy of Deception

“It’s—”

“Different, I know.”

We both laughed.

“Come on.” She gestured for me to follow her. “Let me introduce you to Greta. I promised her I would find her to say hi anyway.”

Tingles spread throughout my body, and I waved my hands at my side, trying to shake the nerves in taking a necessary first step in my new…life.

As we approached a tall blonde woman wearing a white dress shirt tucked into a high-waisted black business skirt, she caught sight of us and gasped loudly.

“Bibi, where have you been?” she questioned, widening her eyes and going in for a hug while she held her drink off to the side.

Bianca swatted her arm as she backed up, and Greta nursed a sip of her drink. “How dare you. I’ve been here the entire time.” She pursed her lips. “Way to be so self-absorbed you didn’t even notice me.”

Greta swallowed, licking her lips probably in an attempt to savor the flavor. “Shut up. Have a cherry popper.” As if on cue, a server suavely strolled by, and she snagged one for Bianca from the tray. “They’re the next best thing to oral sex,” she insisted, practically pushing it at Bianca.

Not that I could have had one anyway, but it might’ve been nice if she had at least noticed me.

“Greta, this is Brooklyn Deluca,” Bianca said offhandedly as she plucked a cherry from the glass, dropping it in her mouth and shutting her eyes as she moaned. “Sweet.”

Nodding, Greta extended a hand, which I took as an introduction. “Nice to meet you.” Letting go of my hand, she brought both of hers together around her glass. “Capri told me about you.”

Judging by the relationship she had with Bianca, one of her clients, and the way she held herself, I doubted she was grading me on professionalism. On the contrary, actually. I think she was looking for clients with personalities that gelled with hers. “All bad things, I hope,” I said earnestly, curling the corners of my lips up.

There was a pause, but it was short.

“You’re funny.” Greta let out a cackle, turning to Bianca and arching a brow. “She’s funny!” The loud volume was just a benefit, I supposed. “Do you know if it’s a boy or a girl?” she questioned, her gaze slipping downward.

I licked my lips, wishing I could’ve had one of those cherry poppers. “It’s a girl.” Even a sip would have worked well for me. Not that I would ever, not while I was pregnant. It was just a fleeting thought.

Greta nodded. “I have two boys. Rascals that they are.” Then she tossed her head back and let out another unabashed laugh.

“She wants a girl,” Bianca whispered, leaning over as if she had to say it in my ear.

“I want a lot of things,” Greta responded, snapping a finger and placing her hand on her hip in a sassy gesture.

Bianca held up a finger, and we waited as she swallowed another sip of her drink. “And she’s going to get them all.” Dragging out that last word, Bianca hit her hand against her thigh.

“Hell yeah, I am.”

Bianca nodded, and I felt like a third wheel in the conversation. I wished I had more experience with these settings.

Laying a hand on my shoulder, Bianca grinned. “You two have fun. I’m going to make the rounds.”

Before she was out of earshot, Greta advised, “Make sure you find Ophelia Cartwright. Word is she’s on the hunt for a designer to work with on her awards look.”

“I’m on it,” Bianca shouted, waving over her shoulder as she walked away.

Now that it was just us, Greta homed in on me. “All right, Brooklyn, so time is money. Make mine profitable. Why should I take you on as a client?”

I could have bored her with the story of my life and how I deserved this and would work harder than any of her other clients.

I could have told her how I wanted it so bad I could practically taste it.

But all of that would have probably fell on deaf ears.

Because how many other people had done the same?