Page 148 of If Ever

"Nothing important."

"Then why were you frowning?"

"It's someone from my past."

Chelsea arches a brow. "That sounds ominous."

"It’s nothing to worry about. Now about your friends, I can't wait to meet them."

"Let's wait and see how you feel by the end of the weekend. I'll be stocking up on booze before they get here."

"So, you're a bunch of lushes?" I tease.

"We have our moments. How do you think they got me to audition for Celebrity Dance Off? I was bombed."

***

I hear hoots of feminine laughter and music from my flat as I open the door after the Friday night show. From the entryway I see a girl wearing nothing but a skimpy piece of lingerie.

"Um, hello," I call out.

The girl whips around in her filmy ensemble, revealing more of her shapely figure. One look at me and with a shriek she races into the extra bedroom. The other girls squeal with laughter.

I enter the room nervous of what I'll find next. My flat is a debris field of luggage, coats, ladies footwear, and wrapping paper. The coffee table is littered with wine glasses, half empty bottles and the remnants of two pizzas.

Chelsea rushes over, her eyes bright with happiness. "Oh my God, that was so funny. We made Anna model the lingerie we gave her." Chelsea kisses me quick and takes my arm. "Tom, these are my friends, Kayla, Jacque and Megan."

"Thanks for letting us stay here," Kayla a long-haired brunette says.

"No problem. I'm glad to have you." All eyes are glued to me as I remove my coat. This is more nerve wracking than auditioning before a Tony-winning director.

"Especially after walking into that!" Jacque says with a giggle. She's got dark shoulder-length hair and an infectious smile.

"Chelsea, he's hot! And his accent is adorable," Megan, a striking blonde blurts, boldly checking me out.

"Megan!" Kayla whacks her with a throw pillow.

"What? It's a compliment. And who doesn't love a British accent?"

I look to Chelsea and scratch my head, a little wary. She shrugs and the girls laugh. "Let's get you a drink?"

"I think I'll need a double. Let me get it." I take the opportunity to hide in the kitchen.

The former lingerie-modeling girl sneaks back into the room wearing leggings, a long sweater, and a face flushed with embarrassment.

"And this is Anna, the bride," Chelsea announces with a grin.

"Hi." Anna waves, sits on the couch, and clutches her drink.

"Congratulations on your wedding. Your fiancé is going to love that little number you were wearing." I raise my glass in salute.

Anna turns a brighter shade and hides her head in her hands as her friends roll with laughter.

With my gin and tonic firmly in hand, I find a spot on the floor among the disarray and stretch out my legs. Chelsea touches her stockinged feet to mine and smiles.

"So, Tom." Megan sips her wine. "As you know, Chelsea doesn't have any family, that is other than her bastard excuse of a father, who I plan to take down someday," she adds. "As her adoptive family, we'd like to know your intentions."

I glance at Chelsea, who is shaking her head in embarrassment.

"Yeah," says Kayla. "Chelsea's too nice for her own good. We're her muscle. So what's up?" All eyes are on me. I fight the urge to squirm.

Chelsea shrugs and leaves me to fend for myself.

"Out of respect to your position as her handlers, I assure you my intentions are most sincere." I wink at Chelsea. What would they think if I pulled the engagement ring I’ve been carrying around in my pocket and proposed right now? But I aim to propose in extraordinary fashion when the time is right. After the tough time with her dad, I want it to be spectacular.

"You do have the cutest accent," Jacque says, and now they're all waiting for me to speak again to hear more of it. This is one of those moments when being British gives me the ace in the hole.

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