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He tipped my chin up to meet his eyes. His worried gaze locked on mine and I could see him mentally calculating how many drinks I’d had. “You ready for me to take you home, baby?”
    I nodded, drunkenly. “Yeah. I’m just going to go to the bathroom.”
    Ben motioned for Ellie to take me, and after linking her arm through mine we headed through the gallery, thankfully without spotting Fiona on the way.
    Ellie and I each slipped inside a stall and went about our business. But when I emerged, Fiona was standing at the sink inspecting her makeup.
    Shit.
    I took a deep breath and calmly approached the sink next to her and began soaping my hands. Maybe all that alcohol wasn’t the best idea. My stomach was churning violently and I felt woozy and disoriented under the harsh fluorescent lighting. I watched in silence as Fiona reapplied berry-red lipstick to her perfect pout.
    I rinsed the suds from my hands and found my reflection in the mirror. In contrast to Fiona’s perfectly put-together appearance I was pale and . . . drunk looking.
    Just great.
    “It’s a nice event, isn’t it?” I attempted politeness, breaking the stony silence between us.
    She shrugged, recapping her tube of lipstick and dropping it inside her tiny purse. “I was surprised to see you here, actually. Ben hadn’t said anything about you two being back together.”
    Her words stung, I couldn’t lie. Ben should have told her to go to hell and that I was the love of his life. Why hadn’t he? While I was still rendered speechless, Fiona turned to face me. God, where the hell was Ellie?
    “Enjoy him now while you can.” Her hand lovingly caressed her belly. “We’re going to be a family soon. We’ll have a forever connection. What will you have? Your memories of a great shag?”
    I swallowed the dry lump in my throat, fighting back the tears and curse words I wanted to let rip. I opened my mouth, my intoxicated brain struggling to give voice to the words swirling in my brain.
    “He’s stuck by me for five years. Don’t forget that sweetie. I’d be careful if I were you,” she warned, bitter venom lacing her voice.
    Ellie emerged from the stall just then, standing tall beside me. “What Emmy and Ben have is none of your damn business, you old witch. Just worry about yourself.” Ellie’s tone was careful, measured, and I was thankful for her clear, level head. But her voice held a hint of warning, too, and I knew she could go from civilized to bitch in two seconds flat.
    Fiona looked from Ellie back to me and let out a short laugh. “Enjoy yourselves while it lasts, girls.” She placed the little purse strap over her wrist and strolled from the restroom without a backward glance.
    I learned that being highly intoxicated and emotionally drained from my showdown with Fiona didn’t mix well. When we found the guys again, Ben’s mouth tugged down in a frown and he looped an arm around my waist. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
    I merely nodded and let him guide me to the exit, hoping that Fiona was somewhere nearby watching his arms encircle me.
    The hiccups hit me on the limo ride back. Ben watched me with a worried expression and Ellie handed me a bottle of water from the limo minibar while Braydon sat slumped in the seat next to Ben.
    “Here, sweetie, drink this.” She uncapped the bottle and urged me to take a sip.
    The water should have been refreshing, but my belly was turning somersaults and my head was spinning from facing the wrong direction in the limo. I took a small sip and returned the bottle. I let my eyes slip closed and rested my head back against the leather headrest.
    The three of them continued a low, murmured conversation beside me, and I tried to focus on what was being said since I was pretty sure they were discussing me.
    “Your agent is a fucking bitch,” Ellie snapped.
    “She means well, Ellie, trust me. You don’t know her like I do.”
    “Yeah, right. She meant well when she was in the restroom just