Page 79 of No More Billionaires

If we could’ve parted ways right then, and I could have left the party like Cinderella fleeing the ball at midnight—the evening would have been perfect.

But my Fairy Godmother was apparently off duty.

From somewhere behind me and off to the left, a familiar voice rose above the chattering crowd.

“Looks like all your hard work is paying off,” my mother’s bestie, Cricket said in her cigarette-roughened drawl. I could just picture the obvious head-nudge in my direction.

I had a terrible feeling I knew exactly to which “work” Cricket was referring. And to whom she was speaking.

“I know. When things didn’t work out with Mark, I confess I worried for a few minutes.” Yep. My mother.

Both women were speaking unnaturally loudly, as they always did after a few adult beverages. I glanced nervously between Larson and his parents, beads of sweat forming along the back of my neck and my spine.

I couldn’t see the tanned-and-aerobicized middle-aged pair of ladies behind me. But the Overstreets could. They could probably hear them, too, but they didn’t seem to be taking any notice at the moment.

Maybe the conversation wouldn’t catch their ears as long as no incriminating details were mentioned.

“Have you ever been to New York?” Corina asked me.

“Oh, only once for a few days on a high school trip. We visited the Statue of Liberty and saw a Broadway show.” My mind was only half-focused on what I was saying.

As I chatted with Larson’s parents, my ears seemed to have suddenly developed super-human ability, making it possible to monitor the conversation behind me. I prayed it would turn to tennis, or shopping, even gossip, as long as Momma and Cricket didn’t mention me in any identifiable way.

“Wellyourworries, my friend, are officiallyover. She’s your daughter, all right.” A deep, throaty laugh.

Momma’s laugh joined in. “It’s true. When she got that job at WNN, I told her, ‘You need to set your sights on that Overstreet boy. He’s the one you should go for.’ Does Momma know best or what?”

She cackled again, and I cringed.No. Nonononono.

“That you do. Shouldn’t you get over there and meet your future in-laws?”

“What?” Momma said, even more loudly. “IsthatCorina Videau? She looks younger in person.”

I closed my eyes.Please God, no. It’s happening, and I can’t stop it.

The rapid clicks of her heels preceded my mother’s arrival and my impending doom. She placed a hand on my arm and stepped into our small conversation circle.

“Well,hereshe is, my baby girl. I’ve hardly seen you all night. Why don’t you introduce me to your friends, darling?”

When I reopened my eyes, I knew instantly that Larson and his parents had indeed overheard the horrifying tipsy exchange. And now they realized what it meant.

Corina wore a tight expression that could just barely qualify as a smile.

Warren didn’t bother with a polite expression. His previously friendly face had hardened into granite as he waited for the unwelcome introduction.

Larson’s hand had gone slack in mine. At least he hadn’t pulled it away and doused it in sanitizing gel. Yet.

I couldn’t make myself meet his eyes. Hell, I could barely manage to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me. What I wanted to do was run away.

As that wasn’t an option, I took a deep breath and produced the best plastered-on fake smile I could dredge up from my long-ago pageant days.

Maybe things weren’t totally beyond repair.

“Larson, Mr. and Mrs. Overstreet, this is my mother, Lisbeth Carpenter. Momma, may I introduce Larson Overstreet and his parents, Corina Videau and Warren Overstreet.”

Unlike mine, Momma’s smile was real. And almost scarily wide.

“Oh, it’s justfabulousto meet you,” she said, putting on her best society-lady tone. “I’m sure we’ll be spending lots of time together in the future,” she said to Larson.

---