The Pitch: City Love 2, page 28
“Thank you, Nurse Scarlett. What would you suggest? Everyone’s going to wonder why I’m not drinking wine.”
“So grab a mineral water and tell them it’s vodka lime and soda. I take it that means the charade is still going?”
“The charade is necessary,” I told her.
“Because you haven’t told Paul yet.”
“No, I haven’t told Paul.”
“Are you waiting until the baby pokes its head out?”
I glared at her. “I’m about nine weeks. Most people don’t tell anyone until the twelve week mark.”
“They tell their partners.”
God, I wanted a wine. Right. Now. Instead I raised my eyebrows at her. “Where’s my drink?”
Her mouth curled into a wry smile and she ordered my pretend alcoholic drink, then handed it to me. We barely missed having the entire glass of mineral water sloshed all over us when someone pushed past us to get to the bar.
“Why are we here again?” I asked. “Remind me.”
“It’s called a ‘night out’ and I suggest you enjoy them while you still can. Soon it will be all about sleepless nights and changing diapers.”
I swallowed a gulp of mineral water. Somehow it got lodged in my throat on the way down. “Thanks for that.”
I must have paled because Scarlett reached out and placed a steadying hand on my arm. “It will be alright.”
“You don’t know that,” I said.
“It’s the hormones talking,” she said as we walked back toward our table. “You’re going to be fine.”
I stopped and turned to her, forgetting that we were in the middle of a very crowded room full of people. A few people bumped into us and I was too grumpy to apologize for getting in their way. “I’m not sure I see it. I just keep wondering how I’m going to cope. Especially if …” I looked at the ground, my voice trailing off.
“Stop getting ahead of yourself.”
“But it’s a very real possibility,” I protested.
“Exactly. It’s a possibility, not reality.”
“I was going to tell him the other night and then the boys had a fight. When he came back after settling them down, he said he loved them, but he was glad I didn’t want any, because he was done.” I didn’t realize how much I’d been dying to tell someone until the words tumbled out. “What am I going to do?”
Scarlett’s eyes held a steely determination. “You’re going to tell him. And after that, you’ll deal.”
Chapter 38
At least the burger tasted good. So far it was the best thing the evening had going for it. Christa was civil, but it was obvious she was hurt by my distance. Her usual bubbly temperament was subdued whenever she spoke to me. She seemed fine, however, when she told everyone about her upcoming plans to join Scarlett in New York later in the year. It reminded me of my deceit, and suddenly I’d had enough.
I grabbed the handbag sitting at my feet. “I’m going to head off now,” I announced.
Cate reached over quickly and clenched my arm. “You can’t go yet. Stay for another drink.”
I grimaced at the thought of another pretend vodka. The bubbly mineral water hadn’t done anything to ease my bloated feeling. “I don’t think so. I need an early night.”
Scarlett stood. “I’ll get you a drink.”
“Guys, please let it go. I’m tired and I’m miserable company tonight. I just want to go home and get some rest.”
“You can sleep in tomorrow morning,” Christa said. “Just stay a bit longer.”
I eyed my friend warily. She’d hardly spoken to me all night and now she wanted me to stay? If she felt guilty about her icy treatment, then that was her problem.
“Not tonight.” The truth was I was feeling worse than tired. The cramped, sweaty conditions of the pub were really starting to get to me and I found myself longing for some fresh air.
I started to walk away from the table but Max jumped up and stood in front of me.
“You need to stay.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “Would you get out of my way?”
He gestured toward the stool I’d just vacated. “Only if you sit down.”
“For fuck’s sake!” I swore uncharacteristically. “Would you please move?” It had been a lot of years since I’d attempted to beat up my big brother, but in my frustration I felt my fingers clenching into fists.
“Come on, Maddy. Trust us.” He lay an arm across my shoulders and gently guided me back to my seat.
I resisted the urge to shove him away. Obviously in my self-involved musings I’d missed something. “Alright, what is this about?”
Everyone looked away except for Cate, who smiled at me innocently. “It’s not about anything, Maddy,” she said. “We just think you need some company right now, that’s all.”
I took a moment to absorb her words, before all the air left my lungs in a silent whoosh. Then I rounded on Scarlett, my heart pounding wildly. “You told them?”
Scarlett’s eyes widened and she shook her head.
“How could you?” I demanded.
Christa jumped up, her eyes on fire. She pointed accusingly at Scarlett. “How could you confide in her and not in me?”
“It wasn’t like that!” I cried. “I told her by mistake, that’s all.”
“So she knows what’s up and you still weren’t going to tell me?” Christa’s blue eyes were pooling with tears.
“Girls,” Scarlett began.
“Shut up!” we both shouted at her.
“I don’t understand why you won’t confide in me.” Christa let out a small sob, then a hiccup. Max stood by Christa’s side, looking desperate to comfort her, but unsure whether to get involved.
“Girls,” Scarlett tried again.
We ignored her.
“You would have been the first person to know, after Paul,” I told Christa.
“And then you’ll tell me?” she asked, her voice almost pleading.
I stopped, suddenly confused. I felt sick and tired, and things didn’t seem to be making sense anymore.
“Girls!” Scarlett glared at me and used her hand to make a fierce cutting motion in front of her neck.
Oh shit. She hadn’t said anything. I’d just assumed …
Christa’s eyes were still on me. “So are you going to tell us what’s going on with you now?” She narrowed her eyes at Scarlett. “Seeing as she already knows.”
I hesitated. I wasn’t sure if I should sit back down in defeat, or go with my instincts, which were currently urging me to bolt from the pub.
“Oh look!” Cate cried. “The band’s starting.”
I looked at her in disbelief. We all knew about her strong desire to avoid confrontation, but if she thought the band was going to dissuade Christa, she was deluded.
To my surprise, Christa sniffled and sat back down, looking away.
What? I really needed to go home. Tonight it was if the world had tilted on its axis, knocking everything slightly askew, and I was unable to get my facts straight. If this was baby brain and I was only nine weeks on, I was seriously screwed.
The lights dimmed. A small stage tucked to our right was lit by a set of bright spotlights. I hadn’t even noticed it was there. I realized our table was perfectly positioned to watch the band.
I sat back down in defeat. For the first time that evening, the noise in the pub dropped to an audible low, which surprised me. A man stepped up onto the stage and took hold of the microphone.
“Thanks guys. Tonight we have a treat for you. The Mayfair has a long colorful history and we’ve hosted many bands over the years. Tonight we’re welcoming back a legendary regular. From the mid-nineties, this band played here a staggering two hundred and fifteen times.”
In response to a variety of “wows” and “woo hoos,” the man behind the microphone nodded at the audience. “That’s right, that’s a lot of gigs. In my opinion, they are one of Sydney’s best cover bands of all time, and tonight we’re pleased to host their comeback.”
A few guys shouted unintelligible words of encouragement and the man who was obviously the manager, grinned. “We’ve been told the band members have all gone on to become responsible members of society, but that hasn’t stopped them. It turns out you can teach an old dog new tricks. Tonight you’ll be treated to some old favorites, but they’ve got plenty of new stuff in store for you too. Please welcome to the stage Undercover Uprising!”
The pub erupted into a deafening roar of applause. I sat startled as my friends clapped loudly, cheering the empty stage.
And then my jaw dropped when I saw Greg – as in Paul’s business partner, Greg – walk casually onto the stage and take his place behind the set of drums. The clapping intensified and I heard a few wolf whistles. Greg’s balding head reddened, but he looked to the audience and grinned broadly, raising his drumsticks in anticipation.
A bass player I didn’t recognize waltzed on to the stage and took his place beside Greg. He was dressed in skinny black jeans and a black T-shirt, with matching black hair falling in waves past his shoulders.
Then Paul stepped out and everything else dropped away. I was vaguely aware of more clapping and a roaring from the audience, but it felt like it was just us in the room. He wore black jeans and a T-shirt like the other band members. His fair hair shone under the spotlight and his eyes appeared impossibly blue. When he saw me, he winked.
I inhaled an unsteady breath and then got to my feet, clapping and cheering with everyone else.
Cate squealed from beside me, jumping up and down in excitement. “Now do you see why we wanted to stay?”
I nodded, distracted. I couldn’t take my eyes off Paul. He looked younger and completely in his element. My brain couldn’t seem to absorb how a man who looked like he was molded to fit a business suit could look just as good in a pair of worn old jeans and a T-shirt.
Another guitar player arrived on stage and took his place in front of the microphone. His unruly black hair fell over dark eyes and his face was finely lined, but it added to his appeal.
“Oh my gosh, he’s hot!” Cate was still bouncing up and down beside me.
“Not bad at all,” Scarlett agreed, folding her arms and watching the stage.
Cate turned to her, excitement lighting her features. “I know. Wanna be groupies?”
Scarlett and I shook our heads at the same time, although I noticed Scarlett’s eyes were thoughtful. Uh oh.
The lead singer looked at the rest of the band, nodding to a silent beat. After a few more nods, a catchy guitar riff filled the crowded space. Cries of recognition danced over the heavy bass of the music. New tricks indeed. They were covering a Foals’ song – the band I’d told Paul I loved.
I watched in awe as Paul led the fast-paced riff, his fingers nimbly moving over the strings of the guitar I’d given him. His foot tapped in time to the beat and he looked completely absorbed in the rhythm of his playing.
Greg pounded away on the drums, looking like a big kid who’d discovered there was no place he’d rather be. The vocalist’s deep melody floated across the crowd, while the tune the bass player was pumping out enticed the bar patrons to jump up to dance by the stage.
As I watched, people I recognized filled the space, which was when I realized how distracted I’d been. There were people from Paul and Greg’s work, and Greg’s wife, with her oldest son. She waved at me from across the room.
“Come on Maddy, let’s dance!” Cate was tugging at my arm like an overexcited little girl.
I glanced around the rest of our group. Christa gave me a small smile and a short nod. I could tell she still hadn’t forgiven me, but clearly she’d been in on the surprise about the band.
Oh, what the hell, I thought. I was sick of feeling exhausted from the worry of everything. Seeing Paul up on stage was strangely energizing. I could worry some more about everything tomorrow, but for now I was going to enjoy his comeback.
I let Cate tug me to the dance floor. Her smile was contagious. Soon we were grinning at each other like idiots, swinging our bodies in time to the music.
Cate gestured toward the stage with a sly smile. “I think the guitar player has his eye on you.”
I looked up and met Paul’s playful gaze. He smiled broadly at me and my stomach clenched. I knew it had nothing to do with the baby and everything to do with the man I was desperately, irrevocably in love with.
“You know, I think you might be right,” I said. God, I was so screwed if he didn’t want this baby.
Cate giggled like a school girl and it lifted my spirits. I pushed my dark thoughts away, determined to enjoy myself.
As the night wore on, we made room for Scarlett, Christa and Max when they joined us on the dance floor. I swore Paul had deliberately chosen covers from bands he knew I liked: Coldplay, Temper Trap, Birds of Tokyo, along with some classics like INXS, The Rolling Stones and more I lost track of.
An hour and a half later, the singer announced it would be their last song of the night. When it was over, we all cheered and clapped like we were at a stadium concert, not a small pub in inner Sydney. The band stood and waved for a minute, thanking everyone for coming. When they stepped off the stage, Cate grabbed my arm.
“Come on. I want Paul to introduce me to the singer.”
So much for abstaining from men. I allowed her to tug me through the crowd. Now that the music had stopped and the lights were back on, the room felt as if it was closing in on me. People were pushing past us, going in all directions – to the toilet, the bar, the exit or in the direction of the band. We were jostled sideways by a group of tipsy women and Cate was forced to let go of my arm. I was taller than most people, so I saw Cate turn to me and mouth “sorry” apologetically. I shrugged and watched as she continued toward the band, who were being shouted drinks at the bar. I saw Paul searching the room for me and waved.
He smiled and I kept pushing my way toward him. I suddenly became conscious of how hot I felt. I’d been dancing for over an hour and I needed a drink of water. Scarlett was right to insist on keeping my fluids up, but I hadn’t thought to drink anything since before we’d started dancing. My mouth felt parched and it was hard to swallow.
“Oh shit.” A wave of nausea hit me. I’d had hints of it during the last couple of weeks, but nothing like this. I needed to find a bathroom. Now.
Peering across the top of the crowd, I located the women’s bathroom in the opposite corner to the bar and changed direction. I uttered a few cursory apologies as I shoved past people, my usual sense of propriety gone as I desperately hoped I wasn’t going to vomit everywhere.
I was about ten feet away when the nausea intensified. I swallowed, trying not to retch where I was as a wave of dizziness hit me. The room swayed and my vision blurred. A surge of adrenaline hit me, and in my panic I could feel my heart pounding wildly in my chest.
“Madeleine!”
I turned toward Paul, unsure what to do. The room swayed again and I stumbled into a man beside me. He was being pushed from behind by the group of people he was with and they washed past me like a life raft going in the other direction. Without another person’s body to prop me up, my knees buckled.
I heard Paul call out my name, louder this time, but he was still several feet behind me. No one else seemed to be paying attention to me or just assumed I’d had too much to drink.
My legs collapsed from underneath me and the floor rose to meet me with sickening speed.
Chapter 39
When I came to, I was greeted by a tight circle of familiar faces staring down at me.
“Give her some space, will you?”
My friends and my brother stepped back reluctantly at Paul’s request.
Dazed, I eventually managed to meet Paul’s worried blue eyes. He was crouched beside me, cradling my head in his hands.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi. What happened?” he asked softly.
It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. “Too hot. I guess I overheated.”
Paul’s brow furrowed. “Did you eat anything tonight?”
“Uh, yes,” Cate piped up. “She ate a whole plate of wedges, plus a burger with the works.”
Thanks, Cate. I pressed my elbows against the hard floor and attempted to push myself up. I did my best to ignore the fact it was sticky. My head pounded in protest at the movement and I winced.
“No rush.” Paul was watching me carefully. “How about I help you to sit up? Don’t try to stand just yet.”
I nodded, and allowed him to scoop me up gently with powerful forearms. As I was pulled to a sitting position, I felt the room sway and I groaned. Paul eased me back onto his chest, so I was resting against him.
“That’s some bump you’ve got there.” His breath brushed against my ear.
I stared at him in shock. My baby bump wasn’t that obvious yet, was it? Oh. He was looking at my face. I resisted the urge to place a hand on my stomach to see if everything was alright, and instead raised my fingers to my head. I discovered a large throbbing bump where my head had obviously connected with the floor. “Shit.”
“Excuse me, please!” A waitress rushed into our little circle. She crouched down and looked at me, then cringed when she saw my head. “Here.” She handed me an ice pack.
“Thank you.”
Paul helped raise it to my forehead. I bit back a sharp cry when the freezing cold connected with the throbbing bump.
The waitress stood and looked down at me sympathetically. “I’ve cleared a few lounges over near the bar for you. Take your time.”
Paul nodded his thanks, which was fortunate because I’d discovered moving my head was infinitely painful.
“How much did you have to drink?” he asked quietly. It wasn’t accusatory.
“She had two vodka lime sodas,” Cate said, ever helpful.
I risked a glance at Scarlett. She shrugged.
Paul frowned. “Vodka? That’s unusual for you.”
“It’s no worse than whiskey,” I managed.
That seemed to appease him. “Alright, tell me when you’re ready to move, okay? Does anything else hurt?”
