Rags To Riches Baby

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief for Harper’s fashion advice. At least for some of it. Harper had tried to get her to wear a piece of Alice’s jewelry—a large diamond cocktail ring that would’ve matched her dress splendidly, she said—but Lucy had refused. It wasn’t hers yet. She wasn’t touching a thing of Alice’s until the deal was done.

“I think Emma’s mother went a little overboard for this, don’t you?” Harper leaned in to whisper. “I guess since Emma and Jonah eloped in Hawaii, Pauline had to get her over-the-top party somehow.”

Lucy could only nod absently as she took in the crowd. Being friends with Emma, Harper and Violet in college had been easy because they’d all lived in their sorority house and their economic differences were less pronounced. After their years at Yale, they all returned to New York, struggling to start their careers and make names for themselves. It leveled the playing field for the friends. This was one of the few times she’d been painfully reminded that she came from a very different world than them. She tried to avoid those scenarios, but this was one party she couldn’t skip. Even with Alice’s fortune, she’d still be a nobody from a small town in Ohio that no one had ever heard of.

“I see someone I need to talk to. Are you okay by yourself for a while?” Harper asked. She was always good, as were all the girls, about making sure Lucy was comfortable in new settings that were second nature to them.

“Absolutely, go,” Lucy said with a smile.

As Harper melted into the crowd, Lucy decided to take her gift to the table flanked with security guards. There were apparently nicer gifts there than the pink onesies with matching hats she had picked out from the registry. One of them had a sterling silver Tiffany rattle tied to the package like a bow.

Without immediately spying anyone she knew, she decided to get a glass of punch. At least she would look like she was participating in the event.

“Lucy!” A woman’s voice shouted at her as she finished filling up her crystal punch glass. She turned around to see a very pregnant Emma with a less-pregnant Violet.

“You two are a pair,” Lucy said.

“I know,” Emma agreed with a groan as she stroked her belly. “Four weeks to go.”

“I wish I only had four weeks.” Violet sighed. “Instead I have four months.”

Just after Emma and Jonah announced their engagement and pregnancy to the world, Violet had piped up with a similar announcement. It had come as a surprise to everyone, including Violet, that she was expecting. She and her boyfriend had been on and off for a while, but finding out she was pregnant a few weeks after she’d been in a serious taxi accident had sealed the deal. Her boyfriend, Beau, insisted he wasn’t losing her again and they got engaged. The difference was that Violet wanted to set a date after the baby was born. She, unlike Emma, wanted the big wedding with the fancy dress and wasn’t about to do it with a less-than-perfect figure.

“Speaking of how far along you are,” Lucy said, “how did the ultrasound go?”

Violet’s cheeks blushed as she turned to Emma. “I’m not announcing anything because it’s Emma and Jonah’s night, but I’ll tell you both, and Harper when I see her. We’re having a boy.”

“Oh!” Emma squealed and wrapped her arms around Violet. “Our kids are going to get married,” she insisted.

Lucy suffered through a round of giggly hugs and baby talk. Since Violet discovered she was pregnant, it had been all the two of them could talk about. Lucy understood. It was a big deal for both of them. She just felt miserably behind the curve when it came to her friends, in more ways than one. She hadn’t even dated since college. Marriage and children were a far-off fantasy she hardly had time to consider.

“Darling.” An older woman with Emma’s coloring interrupted their chat. It was her mother, Pauline Dempsey. “I want to introduce you to a couple business acquaintances of your father, and then I’d like you and Jonah to join us up front for a toast.”

Emma smiled apologetically and let her mother drag her away. Violet turned to Lucy with a conspiratorial look on her face. “So... Harper said you have some news.”

Lucy twisted her lips in concern. A part of her didn’t want to talk about Alice’s estate until she knew what was going to happen. She didn’t want to get her hopes—or anyone else’s—up for nothing. Then again, keeping a secret in her circle of friends was almost impossible. “It’s not news,” she insisted. “At least not yet.”

“I don’t know,” Violet teased. “Harper said it was huge. Are you pregnant?”

Her eyes went wide. “No, of course I’m not pregnant. You have to have sex to get pregnant.”

Violet shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, I don’t remember getting pregnant. I assume sex was involved.”

“Yes, well, you were in a car accident and forgot a week of your life. I’m pretty sure that missing week included you and Beau making that little boy.” Lucy was suddenly desperate to change the subject. “Any names picked out yet?”

“Beau wants a more traditional Greek name, but I’m not sold. I was thinking something a little more modern, like Lennox or Colton.”

“Where is Beau, anyway?” Lucy asked. “This is a couples shower, right?”

“Yes, well, he’s been working a lot lately. Finding out we were pregnant put him in a tailspin. He’s been empire-building ever since. This isn’t his cup of tea, anyway.”

Lucy nodded, but didn’t say anything. As a friend, she tried to be supportive, but she didn’t like Beau. He and Violet argued too much and their relationship was so up and down. It was hard on Violet. He seemed to rededicate himself after her accident, and later, when he found out she was having a baby, but Lucy still worried about her friend. She wanted it to work out like the fairy tales claimed. But fortunately, with or without Beau, Violet would be fine. She was the sole heir to her family’s Greek shipping fortune and could easily handle raising her son on her own if she had to.

“I’m going to sit down for a bit. My feet are swelling something fierce and I’m only halfway through this pregnancy,” Violet complained. “Come find me in a bit. I still want to hear about this big news of yours.”

Lucy waved Violet off and took a sip of her punch.

“Big news of yours?” A familiar baritone voice reached her ears just as her mouth filled with punch. “Do tell.”

Lucy turned around and felt that anxiety from earlier hit her full force. She swallowed the gulp of punch before she could spit it everywhere and ruin her white dress. She wished it were spiked; it would help steel her nerves for round two of this fight.

Oliver Drake was standing right behind her with a ridiculously pleased grin on his face.

* * *

Oliver was willing to admit when he was wrong, and his prior opinions of Lucy’s attractiveness were way off base.

Where had this version of Lucy been hiding? He had no doubt that Harper, his fashion-conscious sister, had gotten ahold of her tonight.

Lucy’s dark blond hair was swirled up into a French twist with a rhinestone comb holding it in place. Her dress was white and cream—a color combination that on most women, brides included, made them look ill. For some reason, Lucy seemed to glow. It was off the shoulder, and with her hair up, it showcased her swan-like neck and the delicate line of her collarbones.

It was hard to focus on that with the expression on her face, however. The rosy shade of her lipstick highlighted the drop of her jaw as she looked at him in panic. She hadn’t been expecting him here tonight and he quite liked that. Catching her off guard was proving to be the highlight of his week lately.

“This big news,” he repeated. “I hope it’s something exciting to help you get over the shock of inheriting, then losing, all that money.”

At his smart words, her lips clamped shut and her dark brow knitted together. When she wrinkled her nose, he noticed that only a few of her more prominent freckles were visible with her makeup on. He found he quite missed them.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Oliver Drake! How dare you come to the party for one of my best friends, just so you can harass me! Is nothing sacred to you? Tonight is about Emma and Jonah, not about your ridiculous vendetta against me.”

Oliver looked around at the dozen or so people who turned and took notice of her loud, sharp words. Apparently their banter was about to escalate to fighting tonight. He had no plans to cause a scene here, despite what she seemed to think. Reaching out, he snatched up her wrist and tugged her behind him. There were French doors not far from where they were standing, so he made a beeline through them and out onto the large balcony that overlooked the east grounds of the Dempsey estate.

“You let go of me!” Lucy squealed as he hauled her outside, the end of her tirade cut off from the guests inside by the slamming of the door. Thankfully, the weather was a touch too chilly for anyone to be out there to overhear the rest of their argument.

“Is nothing sacred to you?” He turned her question on her. “Stop causing a scene in front of my friends and colleagues.”

“Me?” Lucy yanked her wrist from his clutch. “You started this. And they’re my friends and colleagues, not yours.”

Oliver noticed the palm of his hand tingled for a moment at the separation of his skin from hers. He ached to reach out and touch her again, but that was the last thing he needed to do. Especially right now when she was yelling at him. “Yes, you. And you don’t get to lay claim on everyone inside just like you laid claim to my aunt’s fortune. They’re my friends, too.”

“I didn’t lay claim to your aunt’s fortune. I would never presume to do that, even if I had the slightest reason to think I should get it. Despite what you seem to think, it was a gift, Oliver. It’s a kind thing some people do, not that you would know what that’s like.”

“I am kind,” he insisted. The collar of his shirt was suddenly feeling too tight. Oliver didn’t understand why she was able to get under his skin so easily. He’d felt his blood pressure start to rise the moment he’d seen her in that little dress. And then, after he touched her... “You don’t know anything about me.”

“And you don’t know anything about me!”

“I know that yelling is very unbecoming of a lady.”

“And so is manhandling someone.”