Her face dropped. ‘You are?’ She looked as though he’d just tol
d her the world was flat.
After a few more questions he was ushered into the lobby, crossing from the red carpet to the marble floor tiles. The table he’d bought for an extortionate price was half-full. He saw a few friends and clients filling the seats, and he smiled when Grant and Jenn waved at him from their position at the far side. He made his way around the table, shaking hands and kissing cheeks, having to speak loudly to be heard over the orchestra. By the time he made it to Grant, his friend had already secured him a drink.
‘I thought you might need this,’ he said, passing a glass of champagne to Lachlan. ‘You made it through the wolves okay?’
‘The same old, same old.’ Lachlan lowered his voice. ‘Is he here yet?’
Grant tipped his head towards the other side of the ballroom. ‘Yep.’ Lachlan followed Grant’s gaze, at the table right next to the stage. A man was sitting at the head – a little shorter than Lachlan, a little stockier, too, but with the same dark hair and strong nose.
For a moment their eyes met, before Duncan looked away, turning to talk to the person next to him. Lachlan waited for the familiar feelings of hatred to fill him, but instead he felt nothing at all. He didn’t feel any need to go over to talk to the man he shared blood with. Didn’t feel the need to do anything to him. At the end of the day, what did any of it matter?
‘Lachlan.’ Jenn stood, offering her cheek to him. He brushed his lips against her warm skin, smiling as she pulled him in for a hug.
‘Jenn, you look beautiful as always.’
‘You know what they say, you can put lipstick on a pig, but it’s still a pig wearing lipstick.’
He burst out laughing. ‘Are you comparing yourself with a pig? Jesus, you look all glowing and gorgeous. Stop putting yourself down.’
She patted his arm. ‘And that’s why I like you, Mr Charm.’ Her voice dropped, enough that he had to lean in to hear her. ‘I’m so sorry about Lucy. Grant told me.’
Lachlan looked over at his friend. Grant shrugged, in a don’t-blame-me kind of way. ‘Oh did he?’
‘I can’t help but feel some of this is my fault,’ Jenn said, rubbing her neck with her palm. ‘I hope I didn’t drive her away.’
Lachlan frowned. ‘Why would this be your fault?’
She bit her lip, not quite meeting his gaze. ‘I kind of said something about your other girls.’
‘What other girls?’ He shook his head. She wasn’t making sense. ‘I don’t have any other girls.’
‘And I told her you had trust issues.’
He blinked. ‘What?’
‘You’re not making it much better, babe,’ Grant warned.
‘I’m so sorry. I really liked her, Lachlan.’
‘Jenn…’ His voice was a warning. ‘What did you say to her?’
‘Remember, it’s illegal to hit a pregnant lady, okay?’ She stepped back, as though bracing herself. ‘I told her you pushed women away when they got too close.’
This time, Lachlan was the one frowning. ‘Why did you tell her that?’
‘I’m sorry.’ Jenn grabbed his arm again, her fingers circling around his bicep. ‘She’s so lovely. I was worried you were going to treat her the way you treat all the others. But then Grant told me how much you’re in love with her, and I realised I messed everything up. You have to forgive me, okay, otherwise you’re not going to be godfather to this baby.’ She was out of breath, and still clinging to him.
‘Calm down.’ Lachlan patted her hand. He was worried she was going into premature labour. ‘You weren’t that wrong. I did push her away. And what’s all this about me being in love with her?’ He turned to Grant, who was conveniently looking away.
‘He told me about you missing that meeting. And the way you tried to cancel another one in Paris. And about all the late-night phone calls you didn’t think he could hear you making.’
‘You don’t work late at night.’ Lachlan looked in Grant’s direction.
‘Lucy’s late night, not yours,’ Grant pointed out. ‘I thought you’d turned into the fashion police or something. You were always asking her what she was wearing.’
Lachlan wasn’t sure whether to be amused or appalled.