Rags To Riches Baby

Three

“I don’t know why you insisted on me wearing this dress, Harper. It’s a baby shower, not a cocktail party.”

As Lucy and Harper walked up the driveway of the sprawling Dempsey estate, she looked down at the white strapless frock her friend had practically pushed on her. It had taken nearly two hours to drive out to the property where Emma had grown up, and Lucy had doubted her clothing decision the whole way. Why they couldn’t have the party at the Dempseys’ apartment in Manhattan, she didn’t know.

Harper shook her head and dismissed Lucy’s concerns, as usual. “That J. Mendel dress is perfect for you. You look great. It’s always a good time to look great.”

“You need to print that on your business cards,” Lucy quipped.

Even then, she felt incredibly overdressed for a baby shower, but Harper insisted they dress up. It was a couples shower for their friend Emma and her new husband, Jonah. Since they were both single and the event was coed, Harper had got it in her head that they should look even cuter than usual, in case there were some single friends of Jonah’s there as well. At least that was what she’d said.

“You need to remember you’re not just the poor friend from Yale anymore, Lucy. You have to start acting like someone important because you are someone important. You were before the money, but now you have no excuse but to show the world how fabulous you are.”

Lucy sighed and shifted the wrapped gift in her arms. “I’m still the poor friend from Yale and I refuse to believe otherwise until there’s cash in my hand and in my bank accounts. Thanks to your brother, I may not get a dime.”

“We’ll see about that,” Harper said with a smirk curling her peach lips.

Oliver had made that same face when he visited the apartment the other day. The brief encounter had left her rattled to her core. Thankfully, no one else had decided to drop in unannounced. But seeing that expression on her friend brought an anxious ache back to her stomach. She intended to get some cake in her belly as soon as possible to smother it.

“Who does a couples baby shower anyway?” Lucy asked. “Any guy I know would hate this kind of thing.”

“Knowing Emma and her mother, this will be anything but the usual baby shower. It’s more of an event.”

Lucy paused at the steps leading up to the Dempsey mansion and caught the distant sounds of string music playing. Live music for a baby shower? They’d passed dozens of cars parked along the drive up to the house from the gate. “I think you may be right.”

They stepped inside the house together, taking the butler’s directions through the ornately decorated house to the ballroom. Lucy bit her tongue at the mention of a ballroom. Who, other than the house in the board game Clue, had an actual ballroom?

Apparently, the Dempseys.

They rounded a corner and were bombarded by the sound of a huge party in progress. Lucy was instantly aware that this was not the punch-and-cake gathering with cheesy baby shower games she was expecting. A string quartet was stationed in the corner on a riser. Round tables were scattered throughout the room with sterling gray linens and centerpieces filled with flowers in various shades of pink.

A serpentine table of food curved around the far corner of the space, flanked by a silver, three-tiered punch fountain on one end and an even taller cake on the other end. A mountain of gifts were piled onto tables in the opposite corner. There were easily a hundred people in the room milling around, and thankfully, most of them were dressed as nicely as she and Harper were.

Lucy breathed a sigh of relief for Harper’s fashion advice. At least for some of it. Harper had tried to get her to wear a piece of Alice’s jewelry—a large diamond cocktail ring that would’ve matched her dress splendidly, she said—but Lucy had refused. It wasn’t hers yet. She wasn’t touching a thing of Alice’s until the deal was done.

“I think Emma’s mother went a little overboard for this, don’t you?” Harper leaned in to whisper. “I guess since Emma and Jonah eloped in Hawaii, Pauline had to get her over-the-top party somehow.”

Lucy could only nod absently as she took in the crowd. Being friends with Emma, Harper and Violet in college had been easy because they’d all lived in their sorority house and their economic differences were less pronounced. After their years at Yale, they all returned to New York, struggling to start their careers and make names for themselves. It leveled the playing field for the friends. This was one of the few times she’d been painfully reminded that she came from a very different world than them. She tried to avoid those scenarios, but this was one party she couldn’t skip. Even with Alice’s fortune, she’d still be a nobody from a small town in Ohio that no one had ever heard of.

“I see someone I need to talk to. Are you okay by yourself for a while?” Harper asked. She was always good, as were all the girls, about making sure Lucy was comfortable in new settings that were second nature to them.

“Absolutely, go,” Lucy said with a smile.

As Harper melted into the crowd, Lucy decided to take her gift to the table flanked with security guards. There were apparently nicer gifts there than the pink onesies with matching hats she had picked out from the registry. One of them had a sterling silver Tiffany rattle tied to the package like a bow.

Without immediately spying anyone she knew, she decided to get a glass of punch. At least she would look like she was participating in the event.

“Lucy!” A woman’s voice shouted at her as she finished filling up her crystal punch glass. She turned around to see a very pregnant Emma with a less-pregnant Violet.

“You two are a pair,” Lucy said.

“I know,” Emma agreed with a groan as she stroked her belly. “Four weeks to go.”

“I wish I only had four weeks.” Violet sighed. “Instead I have four months.”

Just after Emma and Jonah announced their engagement and pregnancy to the world, Violet had piped up with a similar announcement. It had come as a surprise to everyone, including Violet, that she was expecting. She and her boyfriend had been on and off for a while, but finding out she was pregnant a few weeks after she’d been in a serious taxi accident had sealed the deal. Her boyfriend, Beau, insisted he wasn’t losing her again and they got engaged. The difference was that Violet wanted to set a date after the baby was born. She, unlike Emma, wanted the big wedding with the fancy dress and wasn’t about to do it with a less-than-perfect figure.

“Speaking of how far along you are,” Lucy said, “how did the ultrasound go?”

Violet’s cheeks blushed as she turned to Emma. “I’m not announcing anything because it’s Emma and Jonah’s night, but I’ll tell you both, and Harper when I see her. We’re having a boy.”

“Oh!” Emma squealed and wrapped her arms around Violet. “Our kids are going to get married,” she insisted.

Lucy suffered through a round of giggly hugs and baby talk. Since Violet discovered she was pregnant, it had been all the two of them could talk about. Lucy understood. It was a big deal for both of them. She just felt miserably behind the curve when it came to her friends, in more ways than one. She hadn’t even dated since college. Marriage and children were a far-off fantasy she hardly had time to consider.

“Darling.” An older woman with Emma’s coloring interrupted their chat. It was her mother, Pauline Dempsey. “I want to introduce you to a couple business acquaintances of your father, and then I’d like you and Jonah to join us up front for a toast.”

Emma smiled apologetically and let her mother drag her away. Violet turned to Lucy with a conspiratorial look on her face. “So... Harper said you have some news.”

Lucy twisted her lips in concern. A part of her didn’t want to talk about Alice’s estate until she knew what was going to happen. She didn’t want to get her hopes—or anyone else’s—up for nothing. Then again, keeping a secret in her circle of friends was almost impossible. “It’s not news,” she insisted. “At least not yet.”

“I don’t know,” Violet teased. “Harper said it was huge. Are you pregnant?”

Her eyes went wide. “No, of course I’m not pregnant. You have to have sex to get pregnant.”

Violet shrugged. “Not necessarily. I mean, I don’t remember getting pregnant. I assume sex was involved.”

“Yes, well, you were in a car accident and forgot a week of your life. I’m pretty sure that missing week included you and Beau making that little boy.” Lucy was suddenly desperate to change the subject. “Any names picked out yet?”

“Beau wants a more traditional Greek name, but I’m not sold. I was thinking something a little more modern, like Lennox or Colton.”

“Where is Beau, anyway?” Lucy asked. “This is a couples shower, right?”

“Yes, well, he’s been working a lot lately. Finding out we were pregnant put him in a tailspin. He’s been empire-building ever since. This isn’t his cup of tea, anyway.”

Lucy nodded, but didn’t say anything. As a friend, she tried to be supportive, but she didn’t like Beau. He and Violet argued too much and their relationship was so up and down. It was hard on Violet. He seemed to rededicate himself after her accident, and later, when he found out she was having a baby, but Lucy still worried about her friend. She wanted it to work out like the fairy tales claimed. But fortunately, with or without Beau, Violet would be fine. She was the sole heir to her family’s Greek shipping fortune and could easily handle raising her son on her own if she had to.

“I’m going to sit down for a bit. My feet are swelling something fierce and I’m only halfway through this pregnancy,” Violet complained. “Come find me in a bit. I still want to hear about this big news of yours.”

Lucy waved Violet off and took a sip of her punch.

“Big news of yours?” A familiar baritone voice reached her ears just as her mouth filled with punch. “Do tell.”

Lucy turned around and felt that anxiety from earlier hit her full force. She swallowed the gulp of punch before she could spit it everywhere and ruin her white dress. She wished it were spiked; it would help steel her nerves for round two of this fight.

Oliver Drake was standing right behind her with a ridiculously pleased grin on his face.

* * *

Oliver was willing to admit when he was wrong, and his prior opinions of Lucy’s attractiveness were way off base.

Where had this version of Lucy been hiding? He had no doubt that Harper, his fashion-conscious sister, had gotten ahold of her tonight.

Lucy’s dark blond hair was swirled up into a French twist with a rhinestone comb holding it in place. Her dress was white and cream—a color combination that on most women, brides included, made them look ill. For some reason, Lucy seemed to glow. It was off the shoulder, and with her hair up, it showcased her swan-like neck and the delicate line of her collarbones.

It was hard to focus on that with the expression on her face, however. The rosy shade of her lipstick highlighted the drop of her jaw as she looked at him in panic. She hadn’t been expecting him here tonight and he quite liked that. Catching her off guard was proving to be the highlight of his week lately.

“This big news,” he repeated. “I hope it’s something exciting to help you get over the shock of inheriting, then losing, all that money.”

At his smart words, her lips clamped shut and her dark brow knitted together. When she wrinkled her nose, he noticed that only a few of her more prominent freckles were visible with her makeup on. He found he quite missed them.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Oliver Drake! How dare you come to the party for one of my best friends, just so you can harass me! Is nothing sacred to you? Tonight is about Emma and Jonah, not about your ridiculous vendetta against me.”

Oliver looked around at the dozen or so people who turned and took notice of her loud, sharp words. Apparently their banter was about to escalate to fighting tonight. He had no plans to cause a scene here, despite what she seemed to think. Reaching out, he snatched up her wrist and tugged her behind him. There were French doors not far from where they were standing, so he made a beeline through them and out onto the large balcony that overlooked the east grounds of the Dempsey estate.

“You let go of me!” Lucy squealed as he hauled her outside, the end of her tirade cut off from the guests inside by the slamming of the door. Thankfully, the weather was a touch too chilly for anyone to be out there to overhear the rest of their argument.

“Is nothing sacred to you?” He turned her question on her. “Stop causing a scene in front of my friends and colleagues.”

“Me?” Lucy yanked her wrist from his clutch. “You started this. And they’re my friends and colleagues, not yours.”

Oliver noticed the palm of his hand tingled for a moment at the separation of his skin from hers. He ached to reach out and touch her again, but that was the last thing he needed to do. Especially right now when she was yelling at him. “Yes, you. And you don’t get to lay claim on everyone inside just like you laid claim to my aunt’s fortune. They’re my friends, too.”

“I didn’t lay claim to your aunt’s fortune. I would never presume to do that, even if I had the slightest reason to think I should get it. Despite what you seem to think, it was a gift, Oliver. It’s a kind thing some people do, not that you would know what that’s like.”

“I am kind,” he insisted. The collar of his shirt was suddenly feeling too tight. Oliver didn’t understand why she was able to get under his skin so easily. He’d felt his blood pressure start to rise the moment he’d seen her in that little dress. And then, after he touched her... “You don’t know anything about me.”

“And you don’t know anything about me!”

“I know that yelling is very unbecoming of a lady.”

“And so is manhandling someone.”

“You’re correct,” Oliver conceded and crossed his arms over his chest to bury his tingling hand. “I’m not a lady.”

Lucy’s pink lips scrunched together in irritation, although there was the slightest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. Could she actually have a sense of humor? “You’re not a gentleman either. You’re a pain in my a—”

“Hey, now!” Oliver interrupted. Ixnay that thought on the sense of humor. “I didn’t come here to start a fight with you, Lucy.”

She took a deep breath and looked him over in his favorite charcoal suit. He’d paired a pink tie with it tonight in a nod to Jonah’s baby, but he doubted Lucy would be impressed by the gesture. At the moment, he wanted to tug it off and give himself some room to breathe, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him react to her, good or bad.

“So why are you here?” she asked.

“I’m here because I was invited. Jonah and I are friends from back in prep school. Did Harper not tell you that?”

“No, she didn’t.” Lucy looked through the window with a frown lining her face, then down at her dress. It was short, ending a few inches above her knee with a band of iridescent white beads that caught the light as she moved. “Although a lot of other things make sense now.”

Oliver couldn’t help the chuckle that burst out of him in the moment. “You actually thought I’d driven two hours out of my way just to come here and stalk you tonight?”

Lucy pouted her bottom lip at his laughter and turned toward the stone railing of the balcony. “Well...it’s not like we’ve ever run into each other before this. You have to admit it seems suspicious that you keep showing up where I am.”

He stifled the last of his snickering and stood beside her at the railing, their bodies almost touching. He could feel the heat of her bare skin less than an inch away. “Maybe you’re right,” he admitted.

Oliver turned to look down at her. She was wearing white and silver heels tonight, but even then, she was quite a bit shorter than he was. Outside, the flicker of the decorative candles stationed across the patio made the golden glow dance around her face, a game of shadow and light that flattered her features even more.

She met his gaze with her wide brown eyes, surprised by his sudden agreement with her. “I’m right? Did I actually hear you say that?”

“I said you may be right. Maybe I got all dressed up, dropped a ton of cash on a registry gift and came to this baby shower in the middle of nowhere just in the hopes I would see you here.”

Lucy turned away and stared off into the distance. “I don’t appreciate your sarcasm. I also don’t appreciate you accosting me at a party. I’m missing one of my best friend’s baby showers to be out here with you.”

Oliver turned toward her and leaned one elbow onto the railing. “You’re free to go at any time.”

She turned to face him with disbelief narrowing her gaze. “Oh yeah, so you can start something else inside? Or throw me over your shoulder and carry me off next time? No. We’re finishing this discussion right now. When I go back inside, I don’t want to speak to or even lay eyes on you again.”

He looked at her and noticed a slight tremble of her lips as she spoke. Was she on the verge of tears? He wasn’t sure why, but the idea of that suddenly bothered him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, why?”

“You’re trembling. Are you really that upset with me?”

Lucy rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No, I’m shivering. It’s freezing out here. I’m not dressed for an alfresco discussion this time of year.”

Without hesitation, Oliver slipped off his suit coat and held it out to her. She looked at it with suspicion for a moment before turning her back and letting him drape it over her bare shoulders.

“Thank you,” Lucy said as reluctantly as she could manage.

“I’m not all bad.”

“That’s good to know. I was starting to feel sorry for Harper having to grow up with you.”

“Oh, you can still feel sorry for her. I was a horrible big brother. I made her life hell for years.” Oliver laughed again, thinking of some of the wicked things he’d done to his sister. “One time, when she was about eight, I convinced her that my father’s new Ming vase was made of Silly Putty and would bounce if she dropped it onto the floor. She got in so much trouble. Dad wouldn’t believe her when she said I’d told her that. He grounded her for an extra week for lying.”

Lucy covered her mouth with her hand to hide a reluctant smile. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden?” she asked. “You’re not here to fight with me, and yet you’re out here making small talk with me instead of inside with Jonah and your friends. What’s your angle?”

That was a good question. He hadn’t exactly planned any of this. He’d just wanted to get her away from the crowd before they made a scene. Once they stopped arguing, he was surprised to find he enjoyed talking with Lucy. There was an understated charm to her. The longer he spent with her, the more he wanted to spend. It was an intriguing and dangerous proposition, but one that explained his aunt’s bold decision. If he felt swayed by her, his elderly aunt hadn’t stood a chance.

“I don’t have an angle, Lucy.” Or if he did, he wasn’t going to tell her so. “I guess I’m just trying to figure out what my aunt saw in you.”

Lucy opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hands to silence her. “I don’t mean it like that, so don’t get defensive. I’ve just been thinking that if my aunt really did want to leave you half a billion dollars, you had to be a pretty special person.” Oliver leaned closer, unconsciously closing the gap between them. “I guess I’m curious to get to know you better and learn more about you.”

Lucy’s nose wrinkled, but for the first time, it didn’t appear to be because she was annoyed with him. “What do you think so far?” she asked.

“So far...” He sought out the smart answer, but just decided to be honest. “...I like you. More than I should, given the circumstances. So far, you’ve proven to be an exciting, intelligent and beautiful adversary.”

Lucy’s lips parted softly at his words. “Did you say beautiful?”

Oliver nodded. Before he could respond aloud, Lucy launched herself into his arms. Her pink lips collided with his own just as her body pressed into him. He was stunned stiff for only a moment before he wrapped his arms around her waist and tugged her tighter against him.

Kissing Lucy wasn’t at all what he expected. Nothing about her was what he expected. She didn’t back down from what she’d started. She was bold, opening up to him and seeking his tongue out with her own. Oliver couldn’t help but respond to her. She was more enthusiastic and demanding than any woman he may have ever kissed before.

This wasn’t the smart thing. Or the proper thing. But he couldn’t make himself pull away from her. She tasted like sweet, baby-shower punch, and she smelled like lavender. He wanted to draw her scent into his lungs and hold it there.

But then it was over.

As she pulled away, Oliver felt a surge of unwanted desire wash over him. It was the last thing he needed right now—with Lucy of all women—but he couldn’t deny what he felt. It took everything he had not to reach for her and pull her back into his arms again. He was glad he didn’t, though, as his need for her was stunted by a sudden blow to the face as Lucy punched him in the nose.

Four

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Lucy asked with outrage in her voice as she backed away from him.

Oliver didn’t immediately reply. First, he had to figure out what the hell had just happened. He was being kissed one second, hit the next and now he was being yelled at.

“Me?” He brought his hand up to his throbbing nose and winced. It wasn’t broken, but there was blood running over his fingers. He’d never actually had a woman hit him before. One for the bucket list, he supposed. “You’re the one that kissed me!”

“I did not,” she insisted.

Oliver frowned and sighed, reaching into his coat for his pocket square to soak up the blood. Harper had never mentioned Lucy being impulsive, but he was learning new things about her all the time. It had been ten seconds since their lips had touched and it hadn’t been his doing. Surely she recalled that. “Yeah, you did kiss me. I said you were beautiful and you threw yourself at me.”

Lucy must have been caught up in the moment, because she seemed very much embarrassed by the truth of his blunt description. Her skin was suddenly crimson against her white dress and she wasn’t even the one who got punched. “Yes...well...you kissed me back,” she managed.

What was he supposed to do? Just stand there? Oliver was not a passive man, especially when the physical was involved. “My apologies, Miss Campbell. Next time a woman kisses me, I’ll politely wait until she’s finished with me and hit her instead.”