Forgot To Tell You Something: An Angsty, Later in Life Romance

“Forget it, I’m not going.”

I hope that my firm statement will suffice, that Stefani will agree wholeheartedly, and we can spend the evening eating ice cream from the carton and watching Bridget Jones.

It doesn’t.

“Lu, you have to go. You gave your word.”

I run my hands through my hair, giving it a sharp yank. “I shouldn’t be held accountable for anything I said yesterday. I was injured, out of my mind. It shouldn’t count.”

“Nice try. You’re going.” She pulls a tea-length dress from the back of my closet. “This is beautiful.”

“It’s a black-tie affair.”

Stefani pushes the gown into my hands. “This is more than sufficient. Trust me. Try it on.”

With a resigned sigh, I strip down and pull the dress on. My breasts are already bigger, pushing up out of the dress, and my flat stomach is a bit more rounded than before. “I can’t wear this,” I gripe, pivoting in front of the mirror.

“Why not? You look gorgeous.” Stefani walks behind me, giving my shoulders a squeeze.

“My boobs don’t fit, and Nugget is showing.”

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard a woman complain about too much cleavage.”

“I’m serious.” I throw my hands up in the air, flopping onto the bed. “This is a nightmare. If I go like this, there’s no way Owen will not know I’m pregnant.”

“Lu, he already knows.”

I know she’s right, and I’ve made a deal with myself. Should Owen ask, I’ll spill the beans. I just hope it isn’t tonight, because this evening is already going to be fodder for one of Dante’s plays.

“I don’t want to go.” Now I’m whining. Perhaps if I whine enough, even throwing in a tantrum for good measure, my friend will let me slide.

My friend is not a very nice person today. “Part of being an adult is doing things we don’t want to do. I know you hate being around Charlotte, and I get that, Lu. But this is important for our unit. Our hospital. Our patients.”

I gape at Stefani’s statements. “You are the worst! Guilting me into attendance as if everything hinges on my presence at the dinner.”

“Maybe I’ll meet you at Wicked Chuck’s later.”

I smile, wagging my finger at her. “Someone has it bad for Dan.”

“He went on a date the other night,” Stefani grumbles, but I see the anxiety passing over her face.

Damn. She really does like Dan.

“Huh, he didn’t mention that to me.” I give her arm a reassuring squeeze. “I’ll talk to Dan. But for now, let’s see what bag I can carry to hold over my stomach the entire evening.”

 Stop fiddling. That’s the mantra repeating in my head since I entered the hotel ballroom. There’s a sea of tuxedos and evening gowns, all wrapped around people who spend more on pedicures than I earn in a year. Completing their looks are coiffed hair, designer jewels, and shoes that definitely didn’t come from the discount rack.

Oh yeah, I blend.

Stefani swears that my tiny bump isn’t obvious. I can play it off as a food baby. A good idea if I’d been able to eat anything all day. I’m starving and nauseous—a winning combination.

I have to hand it to Charlotte; the woman knows how to hostess a party. Granted, if I had a bottomless bank account, I’d be able to pull off one hell of a shindig, too. I stop to grab my seat assignment. I bet money on the fact that Charlotte sat me on the opposite end of the room from Owen—another power play attempt to rein him back into her clutches.

I guess right.

“Hey Lu, how are you?” Thank God, Dr. Jessop is at my table. At least I won’t have to force a polite conversation with him. He’s not only a top-notch cardiologist, but he’s also a blast to hang out with, and these events are a breeding ground for his dirty jokes. “You look wonderful.”

“Thank you,” I murmur, sliding into my seat. “My style doesn’t tend toward tuxedos.”

“Mine either. I hate this penguin shit, but the top-shelf alcohol is flowing. In fact, I’m going to fetch another glass. What can I get you?”

“Just water, thanks.”

“Water? Dear girl, you don’t come to abysmal soirees to drink water. You drink vodka and insult the guests behind your hand.”

“I can still partake in the insults. But I’ve had a headache all day, don’t want the alcohol to worsen it.”

“That’s right. You took a wallop yesterday.” He examines my cheek, offering a grin. “Can hardly tell.”

What a liar. There is no foundation thick enough to cover a bruise, at least none in my price range. At least my eye isn’t swollen shut. Yay for silver linings. As Dr. Jessop saunters to the bar, I glance around the ballroom, taking in all the frocked finery and tinkling laughter.

My stomach flips when my gaze lands on Owen, Charlotte by his side. I take back what I said about them not fitting together—they look fantastic. Talk about a case study in beauty.

Owen fills out a tux like nobody’s business—his shirt stretched across his defined pecs, the tuxedo jacket showcasing his broad shoulders and back. He’s smiling, but I see from here that it’s forced. He’s playing the role of show pony, as required.

By his side, looking like a Gatsby-esque goddess, is Charlotte. The woman’s exotic beauty is exquisite—her caramel skin looks as if she brushed it with gold. Hell, knowing her, she likely did. Her dark hair is pulled into a French twist, her body flawless in a strapless cream-colored gown.

I don’t belong here. It’s not the first time in my life I’ve felt this way, but it’s the first time I’ve felt it regarding Owen. This is his life, surrounded by riches and royalty without the titles. People with villas and private jets and island retreats.

My gaze drops to my lap as I wipe my palms along my legs. Sure, my dress is nice, but it came off a clearance rack. My shoes aren’t designer, and I purchase my makeup in a drugstore. Then, there are the tattoos decorating my arms and legs—ink that I’m ordinarily proud of, but is now making me self-conscious.

I wish I’d worn pants. And long sleeves. Thankfully, I’m tucked into a far corner. Let’s face it, we may be the medical team for Memorial, but we are secondary players. Tonight isn’t about us; it’s an elaborate show for the whales.

And Owen’s chance to shine like the star he is.

Charlotte takes the microphone as the music fades out. It’s showtime, folks.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I’m thrilled to see so many representing not only South Florida but the cardiac community. I played a small part in the initial roll-out of the robotics cath lab, but it was my father who deserves the real credit. He funded a genius interventionist, whose ideas can change the face of cardiology. Let’s give a warm welcome to the man of the hour, Dr. Owen Stevens.”

There is no shortage of accolades as applause breaks out around the room. Owen deserves every second, even if he looks uncomfortable with the attention.

“We have ourselves a celebrity, don’t we?” Dr. Jessop states with a smile, downing the rest of his scotch. “I’d hate him, but he’s an awfully agreeable human being.”

“That he is,” I concur, sending Owen a smile I know he can’t see across the ballroom. “We’re very lucky to have him at Memorial.”

“I’ve heard a rumor that Charlotte is more than a business associate. You always have the lowdown, Lu. Any truth to that nonsense?”

Flip. There goes my stomach again. “She was his fiancée.”

“Ah, that’s the connection. Wait, was? They’re awfully chummy to be exes. Lord knows I’d rather set myself on fire than speak to the former Mrs. Jessop.”

I chuckle at the visual, but I’ve met Dr. Jessop’s ex-wife, and I concur with his words. She’s a harpy. But it’s the first half of his statement that sticks in my craw. They are awfully chummy to be exes.

“There will be several positions opening up with this new training center.” Dr. Jessop sends me a pointed glance. “Right up your alley, Lu.”

“I know.” I don’t admit how desperately I’m coveting the coordinator position. I know I have the experience, but Charlotte is the gatekeeper, and I’m sure she isn’t keen to give me a key to her city.

“You get on well with Dr. Stevens. Hell, I thought you two were dating.”

It’s a play for information, one I’m ignoring. “He’s easy to get along with, Ken.”

Dr. Jessop smirks. The man knows I don’t give up my secrets. “I’m sure he’ll put in a good word for you.”

“I would never ask that of him.”

“You should, Lu. You’ve earned that position in spades. Time to collect on all the good works you’ve done.”

“You just want me out of the area so I can’t give you shit about your half-assed order sets,” I rib, winking in his direction.

“You’ve found me out,” he returns with a laugh.

My mind wanders as I gaze around the room. Should I mention the position to Owen? I hate the concept of being in anyone’s pocket, even if the pocket belongs to the man I love.

The band begins playing an old standard that my father used to sing, and I feel the tears backing up, but I blink them away. Not the time, not the place.

Several couples make their way to the floor, swaying to the gentle rhythm of the song. But it’s one couple that catches my attention. Charlotte and Owen. Together.

I can’t tear my gaze from them as they glide effortlessly around the dance floor. It’s obvious they’re comfortable together, instinctively sensing the other’s next step.

God, but they’re beautiful. They’re like professional ballroom dancers, and there’s no way the crowd misses their fluidity. Even Dr. Jessop sits riveted, rubbing his chin as his gaze remains locked on the pair.

The dance ends about a million minutes later, and the adoration aimed at the golden couple is clear. I can even feel it from my table in Siberia. When another one of my father’s favorite songs plays, I seek a hasty retreat. That’s enough torture for one hour.

I step onto an adjoining balcony, sucking in a lungful of sea air. A few stragglers smile in my direction, and I return the favor before focusing my gaze on the inky blackness of the ocean beyond.

I grip the railing, fighting a futile battle against the tears. I need to get it together. I’m stronger than this, but the events of the last couple of weeks have brought me to my knees.

I shiver, even though it’s hardly cold, and jerk when a jacket slips over my shoulders. Without asking permission, Owen wraps his arms around me, his lips pressing against my hair. “There you are. I’ve been waiting for you.”

“I didn’t want to intrude. I know you and Charlotte are busy.”

“I’m sorry about that. The dance wasn’t my idea.”

I sniffle and shake my head. “You two move so naturally together.”

“It’s called dance lessons. There’s nothing natural about Charlotte and me.”

“Tell that to your adoring public.”

“I only care about one person adoring me, and I’m failing miserably there.” His hands slide down, pressing against my abdomen. “I thought you decided not to come.”

I turn in his arms, wanting to move his hands from my stomach. Another coincidence, I’m sure. You know how it is—when you look for signs, they’re everywhere. Everywhere. “I’ve been here since the beginning.”

“Why didn’t you come to me?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt. You have far more important people than me to speak with tonight.”

“You’re my most important person. I’ve been looking for you for the last hour. I don’t know how I missed you.”

“Charlotte seated Dr. Jessop and me in Siberia. Likely a smart move, since we are known for causing trouble.”

“You’re trouble, all right. The best kind.”

He’s too close, and his hands haven’t left my body since he joined me on the balcony. “I told you I’d be here, Owen.”

The familiar strains of another standard float out to the balcony and Owen holds up his hands, gesturing to me. “Dance with me.”

“I can’t dance. You know that.”

“Just follow my lead. Come on.”

“No, Owen. I’m not following that contest worthy number of yours.”

“You’re not following anything. I want to dance with you, Tally. Only you.”

I take a step back. “Thank you, but no. I can’t.”

No is not a word in Owen’s vocabulary. He grasps me around my waist, pulling me against him once again. “There’s no one here but you and me.”

I slide my hand onto his arm, acutely aware of the clumsiness of my steps. But if Owen notices, he says nothing. Hey, I did warn the man.

“How is it possible?”

“For me to be this bad a dancer? It takes a ton of talent.”

“You get more beautiful every day, Tally. Every time I see you, you’re more gorgeous than the last time.”

I’m not sure why his words make me blush. Owen has told me I’m gorgeous more times than I can count—or fathom. “You need your eyes checked, then. I had nothing else to wear. This was the best I could do.”

“I told you, you’re beautiful. Although I’d much prefer you naked in my bed. Or naked right here. Just as long as you’re naked.”

Time to veer away from the sex talk. It’s a dangerous place. My body has no defenses against Owen when his salacious words spark up every cell. “I don’t fit in here, Owen.”

He releases a harsh laugh. “Darlin, I don’t fit in here, either.”

“You look like you do. You and Charlotte fit so well together.”

He shakes his head, those stormy orbs focusing on me with fierce intensity. “I don’t fit well with her. I never did. I fit well with this tiny, amazing woman who is exquisitely beautiful, wickedly smart, and the most amazing lover I’ve ever known.”

“I hate her,” I banter, gifting Owen a smile.

“I love her, more than life itself.”

I tear my gaze away. I want so much to say it back, but I can’t. That’s not our arrangement any longer.

“I sometimes wonder if she meant what she said when she told me she loved me. I haven’t heard her say the words in weeks.”

“Owen—”

He chuckles, but it lacks mirth. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You can’t leave.”

“Who says? Do you actually want to stay?”

“Not at all, but I didn’t want to come, either.”

“Then let’s go.”

I shake my head, although it’s the best idea I’ve heard all night. “They won’t miss me. But you’re the golden boy. They’ll send out a search party for you.”

“I have an idea. We have dinner, I give my speech, and we jet before dessert. Then we get changed and head to Wicked Chucks. Come on, Tally, I have to repay my debt.”

 “Eh, I’ll let you off the hook on this one.”

“I don’t want off the damn hook.”

The truth is, I don’t want to let him off the hook, but I’m not up to competing against American royalty. I step toward the door, motioning inside. “We’d better get back.”

His hand snakes around my arm, pulling me back to him. “Don’t you miss me at all, Darlin?” The words are lighthearted, but the tone of his voice gives it all away. The faint tremble, the slight crack. He’s hurting way more than I presumed.

I want to throw myself at him, slide my tongue along his luscious mouth, and beg him to sink inside me. He’d likely go along with every step. But I’ve risked my heart with Owen—twice—and I’m not sure that three times is a charm. Still, I ache for him. “You can’t sneak out early, but if you leave straight from here, you’ll make the second set. I’ll save you a seat.”

“In our balcony?”

I press a kiss to his cheek, my body screaming for more than that chaste gesture. “Absolutely.”

“Owen, there you are. I wondered where you went. Hello, Tallulah.”

I turn, offering Charlotte a small smile. She towers over me in her stilettos, and I feel like a mouse being stalked by a cat. “Hello, Charlotte. This is a wonderful party.”

“If I learned anything from my mother, it was how to throw a proper soiree.” Her eyes travel the length of my body, but she’s too polite to mention my second-class clothes. “Owen, we have some investors to speak with about the project. If you’ll excuse us, Tallulah. Enjoy the food and drink. It’s all top-shelf.”

Owen catches my gaze, and I force a grin for him, squeezing his hand. “Go on dancing bear, time for the second half of your performance.”

“You’re funny.”

I laugh in earnest, shooting him my best smile.

“I brought a change of clothes with me. I planned on shedding the tux at your apartment.”

“But we’re meeting at Wicked Chucks,” I argue. There’s no way I’ll last the entire night here.

“You haven’t heard my version of tonight yet, and I like it way better. I show up at your apartment. You’re trying to change, but I won’t let you. Instead, I push you down on the bed and slide my tongue inside your sweet pussy. Then I spend the next hour kissing every inch of you, because I crave you, Tally.”

“Owen—” Much more of his illicit narrative and I’ll strip down right here, party etiquette be damned.

“But, since you’re departing early, I’ll have to wait until I get to Wicked Chucks.” His lips caress my ear, his tongue dancing along the rim. “Don’t forget to save me a seat. I will be there, and I will make it worth your while.”