Josh and Gemma Make a Baby(53)

Josh raises an eyebrow. “Who’s having more fun right now?” he asks. “Me or that guy?” He points from himself to the guy in the tux.




He said, “Who’s having more fun?”

Josh’s eyes twinkle, and I can tell he’s finding this entire experience to be one of the more ridiculous things he’s ever done. Meanwhile, the guy in the tux is trying to look bored and impress the people he’s with all at the same time.

“Don’t you ever take anything seriously?” I ask. But as soon as I say it, I realize that it was a stupid thing to ask. He takes a lot of things seriously.

“Not if I don’t have to,” Josh says.

I take a drink of my lime water to hide my frown. The tart fruit flavor bites at my tongue. I look over at him and note the laughing pleasure on his face as he takes in the opulent circus-like atmosphere of the party. I don’t know any of the people, but I imagine we’re surrounded by a lot of the movers and shakers of the city. Ian would love this party. I imagine he would’ve showed up in a tailored suit or a tux. He would never have been mistaken for a waiter. In fact, he’d be more like the tux guy, surrounded by a group of people, handing out quotes like gold alms to the poor.

I feel sort of deflated at the thought.

“I’ll grab you another water,” Josh says, interrupting my thoughts.

He takes my glass. Apparently, I drained it without noticing.

“Be right back.”

I watch him go. He strides through the glittering crowd, completely at ease in his jeans and T-shirt. He nods at people and says hello in such a confident manner that people stare after him, wondering, I’m sure, who he is and if he’s important.

Nope.

He’s just Josh Lewenthal.

I let out a long sigh. We should leave. This is weird.

“Is that Josh Lewenthal?”

I turn toward the shocked voice. It’s Brook. I stare at her for a second. One, because she’s in a glamorous sequin dress, makeup, and her hair is in a high, elegant twist and two, because, how does she know Josh?

“Um, yes?”

“Josh Lewenthal? The Josh Lewenthal?” She drops her chin and emphasizes the.

And then I get it. Josh got around. A lot. Especially back in high school and college and, well, however long after. Brook is probably one of his former flames. Which…ewwww.

“Yeah. That’s him,” I say tersely. I don’t really want to talk about him with her.

“He’s your date?” she asks, and she has this calculating, lawyer-type look on her face, like she’s running through arguments and counterarguments.

I shrug. I take the fifth.

Then she looks at my outfit and cringes. I could be offended, but I have the same reaction every time I look at myself in this dress too.

“You told me to wear a dress,” I say.

“A dress, Gemma. Not a construction cone.”

I choke on a laugh, and then, I do laugh, because I’m glad Brook is here, and I’m glad I’m not the only one that hates this dress.

“So, what is this party?” I ask. “I wasn’t expecting...this.”

Brook wags her eyebrows at me and gives a conspiratorial smile. “It’s Carly’s husband’s annual investors ball. Basically, it’s a bunch of Class-A jerkholes with too much money, masturbating to their own awesomeness and then cleaning up the jizz with hundred-dollar bills.”

I stare at Brook, stunned but not stunned by her crassness.

She shrugs. “Long day in court. My filter’s gone. Anyway, Carly wanted to skip this party for our weekly meeting, but apparently her husband wouldn’t let her, so she invited us here instead. She’s over there.”

Brook points and I follow her finger. I’m surprised I missed Carly before. She’s standing on an elevated platform with her husband and it looks like they’re holding court. She’s in a gorgeous sparkling blue princess gown, with a tight bodice and a skirt that looks like it’s studded with a thousand diamonds. Her husband is holding her hand, but he’s stiff and he doesn’t look at her. You’d think that if your wife was as beautiful as Carly you’d stare at her all the time, but I guess he’s immune.

“Yes. Those are real diamonds on Carly’s skirt,” Brook says. “I asked, because I have no class.”

I hide my grin.

“Anyway,” continues Brook. She points around the room. “I’ll give the scoop. Recognize that guy over there? He does the reality show circuit, semi-semi-famous. Avoid him, he’s a flasher, in and out of court all the time. That lady over there, she’s on her sixth husband, they keep dying and she keeps getting richer. The latest is still in probate, it’ll take years in court, some nasty battle. That couple, they’re related to some royal family in—”

She goes on about more of the guests and the crazy things they’ve been involved in.

I look through the crowd for Josh. He’s still standing in line, waiting for more drinks. He must feel my gaze, because he turns back to me, and when he sees me looking he gives a little wave and a smile as if to ask “you okay?” I nod and wave back.

“My husband’s over there,” Brook says.

I look to where she’s pointing.

“Yeah. The grizzled cop in the suit. Nice, right?” I’m surprised to see she has a sappy look on her face. Brook loves her husband, like, really, really loves her husband.