Page 57 of Bae

I chose Romeo. So I was here.

Everyone knew it, too.

That’s where the snapping came into play.

There was a special entrance for those who had box seats at the stadium. More private, if you will. Celebrities, well-to-do business owners—Ron Gamble and company—owned box seats, so I supposed it was a necessity for discreetness.

When we arrived, we parked near that entrance. Romeo’s parents were just behind. Security was waiting at the door. I had no doubt Romeo had them all on guard. It didn’t matter, though, because the press was still there. They might not be allowed into the boxes, but nothing stopped them from being outside the entrance.

Ivy and I had glanced at each other. I felt a dip in my belly because I knew what was coming. I glanced down at what I was wearing.

“Should I have dressed better?” I worried.

Ivy flipped the long, blond ends of her hair over her shoulders. “Honestly? It doesn’t matter what you wear. They’re going to say crap no matter what.”

True. “Well, it’s a good thing I went for comfort.”

Ivy smiled. Of course she looked perfectly posh in a pair of skinny jeans, a funnel-neck sweater, and a green army-style jacket with studs on the shoulders.

And me?

I was in my usual. Jeans and a hoodie. Not my Alpha U hoodie, though, my Knights one. It had Romeo’s name and number on the back, too. My hair was down, though, instead of up in the usual bun. Ivy had blown it out for me last night, and it was still nice and smooth, so I figured I’d give Valerie a treat and not look like a total troll.

Wasn’t I a nice daughter-in-law? :-)

There was a sudden knock on the passenger window, and I jumped, pressing a hand to my chest. Tony was standing there with a guilty look on his face when I whipped around.

He motioned for me to get out of the car, then glanced around at the descending press.

Ivy was already on the move. She’d put her Range Rover in park (yes, we drove the same kind of car, just different colors) and climbed into the backseat where Nova was strapped in.

“Lots of pictures,” she said, trying to make it sound like a game. My resolve strengthened, likely because of anger. We shouldn’t have to play a game with our children so they weren’t alarmed by the vultures.

“Get out on Tony’s side,” I told her. “He can help shield Nova.”

“Okay, ready,” she said, a diaper bag on her shoulder and Nova in her arms. The doors on my side of the SUV popped open at the same time, both of us scurrying out.

Tony put his arm around me, but I motioned to Ivy. “The baby.”

He seemed torn, glancing between me and Nova.

“She’s just a little girl,” I told him.

He nodded once and went to Ivy, wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and started forward. Valerie fell into step beside me as the four of us moved toward the entrance.

Reporters and paparazzi crowded around. The sound of snapping pictures and the constant flashes threatened to blind me.

“Rimmel!” someone yelled. “Over here!”

“Get a picture of her stomach!” someone else yelled.

“Are you pregnant?”

“When’s the divorce?”

“What do you have to say about the list of women offering to give Romeo a baby?”

My rushing footsteps halted. Everything inside me stilled.

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