Page 55 of Shameless
He shrugged. “She is with her friends.”
We headed toward our friends, but I took one more look and said, “Whose faces all look pinched.”
Michael followed my gaze and shrugged. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Then he smiled and said, “Here come your friends.”
Once we were in the group, he let me go, and I hugged all my friends in a circle and said, “You all look amazing.”
“Thanks,” everyone chimed back.
We spoke for a few minutes about clothes and whose outfits were gorgeous.
However, I became parched and headed to the lemon water for a refill.
As I grabbed a glass, Bernadette waved and said, “Britney, come stand and talk to me.”
Once the party started, my plan to find her a boyfriend would launch, but first, I needed to scope out the lay of the land and the options to present.
I began, “I don’t want?—”
“I can reveal your secret here in front of everyone.” She glared at me.
My hairs stood up, and I inched closer to her. “Secret?”
She placed a hand on her hip. “That you’re faking?—”
“I’ll come,” I said to quiet her quickly.
My heart raced. I hadn’t told my friends or anyone else that we’d made a deal or changed it. For a second, I wondered if Michael had said something.
Then as we watched couples starting to dance, she said, “So you and my brother thought if you just get married and have a baby, then no one will know that you’re lying through your teeth about some made-up relationship.”
A cold tingle rushed down my spine as I crossed my arms. “I don’t know where you get your information.”
She stared at my plunging neckline. “Maybe you got pregnant to trap my brother and score a title.”
I pressed my hands to my belly like that might keep my little one safe.
Then she showed me her phone and I asked, “What’s this?”
I read a photograph of an email exchange between her and Regina, the blogger that reveled in trash talking my friends and me. It detailed some of my private conversation and initial misgivings.
Bernadette said, “This Regina blogger in America was quite helpful, getting me the information on you.”
My breathing was shallow, but I handed her phone back, smiled, and pretended she wasn’t a priority. “So when Michael and I first met, we were keeping our relationship physical and secret.”
She read the email. “Because he’s your booty call.” She put her phone away. “I’m sure my barrister will find faking one-night stands into a relationship isn’t mentally sound, and if you’re not pregnant?—”
“You’ve gone too far,” I said though goosebumps were all over my body. I swallowed then said, “Michael is intelligent, smart at making money, and good at taking care of himself.”
As the music changed, she didn’t care to hide her voice at first. “He paid you twenty-five million dollars to lie to us.”
I cringed. She knew everything. “That’s not what that was.”
One thin eyebrow rose. “No?”
My bubble was clearly burst, and I needed to protect my unborn child, but I squared my shoulders and said, “I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
She shrugged. “No, you don’t. I can publicly humiliate my brother to get him to fork over the cash, or…”
