Once a Bad Girl

Epilogue

‘I cannot believe you talked me into this.’ Smoothing her hands over her purple-silk dress, Lottie checked her reflection in the mirror for the umpteenth time. The dress flowed to her ankles, subtly emphasising her curves, and the hairdresser had performed some sort of miracle with hairspray and straightening irons. But even so. ‘Look at me!’

‘You look beautiful, darling,’ her mother said, as she spritzed herself with perfume.

‘I look short and fat!’

‘Lottie, you are six months pregnant. You do not look fat. Now, I’m going to go find your father and make sure he’s in his seat.’

‘Okay mum,’ Lottie said. She gave her mother an awkward half-sideways hug. ‘I guess I’m ready, anyway.’ Tonight was the opening night for the jazz club, and she would be the first act on stage. Nerves collided with anticipation and excitement. It was a dizzying mix.

Helen slipped out of the dressing room as Josh slipped in, looking more gorgeous than ever in black evening trousers and a white shirt. ‘I swear you get more beautiful every damn day,’ he said, stepping in behind her. ‘How is that possible?’

‘Because every day you’re older therefore your eyesight is worse?’ Lottie suggested, squealing when he nipped at the nape of her neck as punishment. He slid his hands over her arms and up again, then cradled her belly.

The baby kicked hard against his hand, and Lottie couldn’t hold back a smile. She loved the feeling so much. The past six months had been a crazy whirlwind of change. Starting with the auction house, which Josh had bought from her parents before they’d disappeared on a Caribbean cruise.

She and Josh had spent two months working round the clock to get the place converted into a jazz club. The offices were being used for music lessons, and they were already booked solid for the next year. Then Marlene had finally surrendered and checked herself into rehab.

And in amongst all that, Lottie had plucked up the courage to take a pregnancy test. She’d already known the answer, but she’d made Josh read the test anyway, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen him so happy.

‘There is nothing wrong with my eyesight,’ he said, giving her a cheeky pat on the bum. ‘Now sit down, and I’ll help you with your shoes.’

‘I can do my own shoes!’ Lottie retorted, as he shooed her down onto the velvet armchair in the corner. ‘I’m not that big.’

‘Humour me.’ He reached behind him, pulled something from his back pocket and handed it to her. ‘Here. I brought you some reading material.’

Lottie turned the magazine the right way up. ‘Guilty Pleasures?’

He raised an eyebrow and worked a thumb over the arch of her foot, the touch sending a glorious wave of pleasure through her body. Surrendering to the sensation, Lottie relaxed back into the chair and started to read. Celebrities’ worst-ever hair extension disasters, red-carpet howlers, and a whole section devoted to the subject of male waxing. She flicked through a couple more pages.

Her forehead knotted in confusion. ‘Josh, why are you,…’ Words failed her as she read the headline:

SPOTTED!

Josh Blakemore visited three of Bond Street’s most famous jewellers this week, and our sources tell us he purchased a ring. Are wedding bells in the air for this sexy stud and his pregnant girlfriend? Watch this space!

Josh took the magazine from her shaking hand, and held up a little blue box. It didn’t escape her notice that his hands weren’t quite steady either. He opened it up. Inside was the most exquisite diamond ring she’d ever seen. She couldn’t quite make it out. All she could see was bright, breathtaking sparkle in a bed of plump white satin. ‘Is that a fake?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘This, babe, is about as real as it gets. Now do you want it or not?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes!’