I narrow my eyes at him. "Are you making fun of me?"

"Grace!"

I look across the bar and spy Kristi, waving at me frantically.

"Ah, f**k. And her." I point to Kristi, weaving her way through the crowd. "She’s supposed to marry Johnny Blazen tomorrow, but, pfft. I don’t see it."

The bartender stops washing the glass. "So let me get this straight. You" —he points his wet glass at me—"think you’re being stalked by Vaughn Asher. And she" —he points to Kristi who is almost at the bar now—"thinks she’s marrying Johnny Blazen tomorrow."

I take another long draw on my margarita. "That’s right."

"No more drinks for you."

"Grace!" Kristi says as she places her hand on my shoulder as she tries to catch her breath.

"Let me guess," the bartender says, pointing at her stomach. "That’s Johnny Blazen’s love child you’re carrying, right?"

"Oh my God, is he psychic?" Kristi squeals.

"You’re cut off too."

"I’m not drinking!"

"Out, both of you. You’re both on drugs."

"Come on, Grace. Come back to the rehearsal party with me, please. I need your support tonight. Please. His family is so unhappy with me. They’re not excited about this at all. I need you." She gives me a pouty face that would make a six-year-old proud.

"Kristi, I told you what I think. Marrying him is a big mistake."

"Why though? Please, if you know something I don’t, just tell me. Because I seriously love him, Grace."

"Well, of course you do, he’s a famous football player. He’s got a ton of money and he’s hot. But can you honestly say he loves you back? I mean, he won’t even move out of the house he shares with his ex. She owns it, the divorce is final, and he’s still living there."

"She’s not there though, she’s in the Caribbean—"

"Oh." I put up a hand. “I can’t even go there. The f**king Virgin Islands are where all my troubles started!"

"But Grace, did you hear rumors or something? Please, we’re friends, right? You can tell me."

"Kristi, how are you so dense? The man is twenty-four years old and he’s been divorced twice! You will be his third wife. You got pregnant when he was still married," I say, pointing down at her baby bump. "You were a cheater! Women all over the world are cursing your cheating name. You cannot seriously be blind to all this!"

“But all those things have a really good explanation, Grace. I mean, sure, the divorce thing is real. And yeah, I’m nervous about being the third wife and all. Especially since we’re having a baby. But—"

"Oh, f**k,” I interrupt Kristi. “Her again?" Vaughn Asher’s girlfriend is on the TV. She’s poking her belly, lifting up her shirt to show the cameras her pregnancy. It looks like she’s puffing out her stomach on purpose if you ask me.

"Four months," she says, answering the reporter’s questions about how far along she is.

"Oh, I know," Kristi says, leaning into me. "She’s been on TV all damn day. I’m so sick of her. Who cares, anyway, right?"

I shoot Kristi a look. "Well, you would say that, you’re the other woman. Johnny got you pregnant while he was still married. And now this woman is accusing Vaughn Asher of cheating on her. It kinda hits home, don’t you think?"

"I honestly don’t see how our situations are the same, Grace. I mean—"

"Are you serious?" I just look at her with my mouth open. "OK, I have nothing for that. It’s so obvious, if you can’t see the similarities, I can’t help you. And God only knows how many girls Vaughn Asher has slept with. Johnny and Vaughn are two cheating ass**les who deserve to have their pricks chopped off!"

"Why are you so hung up on Vaughn Asher? I mean, seriously—"

"Because, Kristi…" I seethe her name. It’s filled with venom. Directed at the wrong person, I admit. It should be directed at Vaughn or myself, because there’s no way a man like Asher is not involved with a woman every single minute of the day. "I’m Vaughn Asher’s other woman. Just like you are Johnny Blazen’s. But unlike you, I have the good sense to know what a ho I am, and—"

"That’s enough, Grace." I turn around and Vaughn is standing behind me, his arms crossed over his chest. "That’s e-fucking-nough."

"Oh my God, you’re Vaughn Asher’s girlfriend?" Kristi squeals, shaking me by the shoulders. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God!"

"I am not his girlfriend, Kristi! Jesus, wake the hell up! That"—I point up at the TV where the bitch is still talking about the future Baby Asher—"is his girlfriend right up there!"

"Kristi, is it?" Vaughn asks in his I’m-the-reasonable-one-here voice. "Grace is my girlfriend, that bitch is the lying ho. Grace." He turns back to me. "She’s not pregnant with my baby. I slept with her once, six months ago, so there’s no way that baby is mine. I made it very clear there was going to be nothing more between us before I met you on Saint Thomas and she obviously took it badly. I did not sleep with her that night. I dismissed her. She’s a liar. You, Grace Kinsella, are the only woman I’ve slept with since we met."

"I don’t believe you," I sneer.

"I don’t care. You’re drunk so I’ll just explain it to you again tomorrow when we wake up."

"I’m not going home with you."

"Oh, yes, Miss Kinsella, you are. Because you have no idea what I just went through to make sure I could have you tonight. There’s no way I’m letting you go now."

And then he hoists me up and swings me over his shoulder.

"Send her tab to my room," he calls out over the cheers from a crowd of men as we pass. "She’s with me from now on."

Chapter Eight

GRACE pounds her little fists on my back, demanding to be put down.

"Will you come along nicely? Or should I carry you all the way upstairs?"

She lets out a groan as I walk, bouncing her along. "I’ll walk nicely."

I set her down and she straightens her dress, looking around at the people who are now staring at us. She smooths her hair and then squares her chin and shoulders, steeling herself for a confrontation as she looks me in the eye. "I’m not going to your room, Asher. That much is for damn sure. And if you pick me up again, I will scream."