Page 2 of Beastly Mr. Buchanan
He grunts and rubs his chest as I wobble my way to a stop several paces away.
“I didn’t know chatty fatty was so feisty.I missed you, Karey,” he murmurs.
Bile rises in my throat.My head swims.
A child’s delighted squeal breaks my stupor and rips me into the present.Fury joins my fear.
Crumbs sprinkle onto the floor and stickiness oozes between my fingers.
Disbelief sweeps through me as I realize I crushed the tart.I cover my emotions with the purely polite and professional smile I’ve perfected over the years.
“Wow, who would’ve thought the fattest matchmaker in New York City would be so wasteful with food.”Every cell in my body freezes at the familiar voice.The ringleader of high society’s unofficial mean girls club, Lydia Wilco, continues in her high-pitched, nasally tone.“Stop flirting with Oscar, Karey.You couldn’t bag him in a million years.”
The horrified silence settling over the nearby partygoers rings in my ears.
She scoffs and waves her arm at the group.
“Oh, come on, we’re all thinking it, I’m just the only one truthful enough to say it out loud,” she says.
I pull my stare off Oscar despite my screaming instincts and make note of not only her posse but the individuals lucky enough to overhear her words.
Charlotte, a woman who has her first meeting with me scheduled next month, steps forward and places a hand on Lydia’s arm.
“Lydia, I think you’ve had too much champagne.Let’s—”
Lydia shoves her hand off and gives her a haughty once-over.
“Like I said, everyone’s thinking it, so I might as well say it.She’s a good matchmaker only because everyone knows she couldn’t poach even if she tried.”Her words slice deep into my chest, but I don’t flinch.I loosen my fist and set my drink on the table.She’s only stating what I’ve known since middle school.
“There’s security in having you as the middle man, Karey,” she says with a menacing step toward me.“No one has ever looked twice at you and no one ever will.Not in these circles, at least,” she says with a dismissive and slightly disgusted once-over.
When she glances over her shoulder, her posse snickers, sneers, and steps closer.I resist shrinking away by accepting a cloth napkin from a server and brushing the crumbs off my hand and onto her tray.
“Thank you for your concern, Lydia.It’s super sweet of you,” I say with an innocent smile.
She sputters and props her hands on her surgically enhanced hips.I ignore her antics and thank a second server as they offer me a damp cloth before continuing, “I’d ask you for recommendations but don’t think I can afford all the surgeries it took for you to achieve your current look.By the way, has it helped?”I ask with a concerned glance her way.
Her posse exchange puzzled looks.
Her eyes widen, and if it weren’t for the makeup caking her face, she’d lose all color as shock and horror shine from her eyes.
She’s kept her husband’s unfaithfulness under wraps, but my extensive list of contacts ensures not many relationship secrets get past me.Her boob job, lip filler, and liposuction were only the tip of the iceberg concerning her attempts to catch her husband’s wandering eyes.
I finish wiping my hand, gently set the cloth on the tray, grab my beverage, and step around the pile of crumbs on the floor.
“I’m sorry, I suppose my question was too difficult to answer.Ladies, this is Mr.Oswald.I advise you check his juvenile records before asking me to set you up with him,” I say before offering a mockingly sweet smile and wave.
I take measured strides toward the center of the room, not only to hide my urge to dart toward the door, but also because of the aching in my joints.
Eileen’s smile brightens when she notices me.She shifts the toddler in her lap to face me.The love and pride shining in her eyes clogs my throat.
Jealousy grips me, but I swallow, smile, and step onto the carpet.
Even as joy and wonder bloom in my heart from her son’s gummy smile and enthusiastic fist waving, sorrow streaks through my soul and I fight to keep my composure.
Hiding my misery lest I trigger Eileen’s investigative skills, I shove my sadness down deep in my chest and consider squatting or bending down to meet the child but decide to lower myself onto the seat beside her instead.After Lydia and Oscar ripped open old scars, the thought of opening myself up to further scrutiny by leaning over and displaying my fat ass to the entire party sounds like a horrendous idea.
She plops the baby onto my lap before I’m even fully settled on the cushion.I freeze, half perched with my heart in my throat, too afraid to move and knock him onto the floor, but precious little hands grab the front of my dress and close into fists.He aims innocent yet oddly discerning eyes into mine, smiles, and babbles out a few test sounds before burying his face in my chest.Even as embarrassment flickers through me, I wrap my arms loosely around him and scoot deeper onto the couch.
