Hey Baby

Anger Issues? I Guess

Though I'd given Lincoln the cold shoulder for the last week, I knew I wouldn't be able too at the gala tonight. For the first time in three years I'd be the one being served and not serving. Most of my coworkers were aware I was pregnant, but actually seeing me beside the "father" was sure to give them an entirely different insight into my life outside of work.

As soon as I walked in, my fingers curled around Lincoln's bicep, clinging on for dear life as celebrities and civilians alike pushed there way through and to their assigned seats. Within a second of being shoved into Lincoln, I felt his arm circle around my shoulder and pull me into his side, acting as barrier between the crowd and me. Once we reached the table, he pulled out the chair for me and waited until I was seated and pushed in to take the seat to my left. As I traced my finger along the red matte tablecloth we used on various occasions, I was nearly blinded by the flashing of cameras as they rushed the table.

"Wow, hey!" It took both Lincoln and his father to scare them off, and by the time Link sat back down, anger had taken permanent residency on his face, lining every inch with irritation and darkening his eyes.

Though I'd promised myself I wouldn't allow my emotions to get the best of me, my hormones didn't listen and I reached my hand across the stack of napkins and rested it on top f his closed fist. "You okay?"

He shot a look in his mother's direction, but she was waving around a wine glass as she spoke with a friend at the table to our right.

"I'm jumping with joy."

"Link." I squeezed his hand. "You don't like these things? I would have thought—"

He interrupted before I could finish, "Thought what? That I was some rich asshole that basked in the money and attention?"

Well, yeah.

"I never asked for any of this when I signed the paperwork." He made a gesture around us. "I told my dad that I wanted to be behind the scenes, the brains of the operation, but he and his marketing team knew my face would be the perfect way to lure people in."

I dropped my gaze to our hands for a second, trying to ignore the butterflies erupting as he caressed my knuckle. "I'm sorry."

"You're not." he muttered, but it didn't hold the same malice his previous statement had. "I'm sure you're thrilled to see me squirming like this."

"Link, it's not like that." I sighed. "If that was how I felt, do you honestly think I'd. . . do you honestly think I would have come tonight?"

Careful not to let the wrong thing slip, I eyed his father opposite me, but he was scrolling through his phone with his eyebrows drawn and lips pursed.

"Oh my God, Lincoln, hi!"

My head snapped up so fast I was amazed it didn't cause me any pain. The girl that approached was familiar, though I couldn't pinpoint where I'd seen her. She was, in every way, my opposite. Long, cascading bone straight blonde hair. Big, beautiful blue-green eyes fanned with thick, dark lashes. She wore a long red, body hugging, floor length gown that left little too the imagination, especially in the bust area.

"Ashley, hey." Lincoln rose without as much of a glance in my direction, but I could tell by the tension in his shoulders that he was aware of my gaze on him. He hugged her quickly, then made a gesture to me. "Ash, this is my girlfriend Arielle Fuller. Ellie, this is. . . a friend, Ashely Owens."

My lips parted slightly at the mention of the name, and for a moment I just stared. Ashley Owens as in beauty influencer and fashion designer Ashley Owens?