Modern Girl's Guide to Friends With Benefits (20 page)

"You know, women in other countries have babies all the time," she argued.

"Do we need to talk about the post-natal death rates in Third World countries again? Not every village has someone as skilled as your father. What if—"

"It's not that I don't find this discussion fascinating, but I think I'll bow out now before you guys call for seconds." Peter glanced to the empty chairs. "Is Meg here?"

"They were headed to the dance floor a while ago," Beth said.

"They?" Peter looked around the table.

"She brought a date." Matt motioned to the other seat. "I was pretty shocked."

Peter turned to the crowd of couples moving in a slow, synchronized revolution around the dance floor, but he didn't see Meg. There must be some confusion. Surely she would have mentioned a date. Wouldn't she?

Meg didn't really date much, so he was having a hard time figuring out who she might be seeing. It might have been that asshole Ethan from earlier in the week, but he couldn't imagine her agreeing to that. He'd been in New York for almost six months. He didn't know anything that was going on in her life. She could be seeing a half-dozen men, for all he knew. Hell, he didn't know anymore. That could be the reason she wanted to stick to a casual relationship.

"And where's your date?" Beth asked. "Megan mentioned over dinner that your neighbor would be joining you."

"I was surprised when she mentioned Stephanie," Matt said. "Isn't she the cute blond a few apartments down the hall? That's a little close to home for you. Does that mean it's serious?"

"Since when did my personal life become the dinner conversation? No, Stephanie isn't joining me tonight."

"So, no date? I can't remember the last time you went stag to an event like this."

Peter bit back a "Fuck off." Matt was right; he usually had a date. Plus, neither of them knew about the recent events with Meg. Peter hated the secrecy. It would be so much easier when they stopped hiding. "I've come to events without a date before. Besides, how do you know I'm not going home with someone I was planning on meeting here?"

"Trolling the Widows and Orphans' Gala for sex? Classy," Matt said jokingly, but Peter wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"So who's this guy Megan brought?" Peter asked, scanning the dance floor again.

"It's that cute Irish guy who's been working on her renovations," Beth said.

"Connor?" Peter said through clenched teeth.

"Yes, Connor," Beth said. "He's cute, but I didn't think she was his type, if you know what I mean."

As Beth continued to talk about Connor, Peter caught sight of Meg in the crowd, arm in arm with the man himself. Her dark curls were smoothed into a soft cascade framing the side of her face, which was still flush from the dance, and tucked behind one ear was a red rose. Her lips were stained the same crimson red. Connor whispered something in her ear and she laughed, the smile lighting up her entire face. Then he spun her one more time as they left the dance floor. The simple black dress she wore flared out, revealing the top of her lacy stockings as well as the red bows at the bottom of the garters she wore.
Fuck, it had to be stockings.

As they reached the bar, Connor threw an arm over her shoulder and pulled her in close, validating Peter's earlier assessment of their relationship. Friends, his ass. They looked like lovers from where he stood.

Peter stood up and took several steps in her direction before he caught himself. What was he going to do? Punch Connor in the face and drag Meg back to his house? She'd brought him as a date, after all, and it was Peter's own fault for letting this stupid arrangement go on this long. He should have been clear from the beginning that he wasn't going to share her with another man. Unfortunately, now, with half of Chicago's elite watching, wasn't the time. It would be best for both of them if Peter left before doing something they'd both regret tomorrow.

"If you're headed to the bar, could you get me another ginger ale?" Beth said from behind him. "The waiters only have champagne and they're so busy, I hate to ask them to make a special trip."

He turned around, about to make an excuse, but the sight of his friend with his wife gave him pause. Beth was leaning into Matt's chest, head against his shoulder, and Matt was slowly rubbing the prominent bulge of her belly. It was almost like Beth was a balm for his restless soul. He'd never seen Matt so relaxed, or happy, for that matter. It was the same look his parents had.

Matt caught him staring, and there must have been something in Peter's expression that distressed him because Matt frowned. "If it's too much trouble, I can get the drink."

"Stay," Peter said, sorry his hesitation disturbed their moment. "I was headed that direction anyway."

He gave Meg and Connor a wide berth and found a spot at the other end of the bar. He didn't want her to see him. He'd just get Beth her soda and head home, and let Megan have tonight. The bar was crowded and he waited forever for one of the bartenders to take the order. And even though he'd decided to let the whole Connor thing slide tonight, Peter couldn't help but watch Meg.

She looked relaxed and open to Connor's touch. She laughed and casually caressed his arm. They almost looked like a couple. He, on the other hand, wasn't responsive and seemed preoccupied. Every so often, when she turned to greet someone or talk to the bartender, Connor would check the room as if looking for someone. Finally, he caught sight of whoever he'd been searching for in the back and broke out in a huge smile. He held up five fingers and mouthed, "Just five more minutes."

Did the prick have the balls to flirt with someone else while Meg was standing right next to him? Peter tried to follow his gaze, but there wasn't anyone back there besides a few sparsely populated tables. A few older couples, a group of men, and a scattering of single people. He didn't spot anyone Connor might be interested in. He'd been sure Connor had arranged to meet with someone. Perhaps she'd already headed to their prearranged meeting spot.

He'd been so intent on figuring out who Connor's mystery woman was that he didn't notice Meg had come up beside him.

"Peter! I was beginning to think you weren't coming," she said wrapping both arms around him in a quick hug, and before letting go, she leaned up to whisper in his ear in a low, sexy-as-fuck voice. "I'm glad you're here."

The bartender finally brought Beth's ginger ale, and Peter snatched it up. He wasn't in the right mindset to deal with any of this right now. "Something at work came up. I can't stay," he said, and headed back to the table, leaving Meg with that curt explanation.

Peter could almost feel her eyes drilling into the back of his head. He knew his dismissal was bound to piss her off, but hell, what was he supposed to say? It was all he could do not to pull that jackass she was with into the hall and beat him bloody for even looking at another woman. Peter had made it all the way back to the table before she caught up with him.

"What the fuck was that?" she asked, loud enough for the people sitting two tables away to hear.

Peter ignored her and set down the soda in front of Beth. "Jesse needs me back at the shop, so I need to leave. I hope you two have a nice evening."

"We should be going, too," Matt said, jumping up. He slipped on his jacket as if he'd been waiting all night for an excuse, and reached down to help Beth up.

Beth slapped away his hand. "Bullshit! This is the first night we've left the house in weeks. I want to have fun." She leaned in and said low, but not low enough, "I checked out the handicapped bathroom earlier. There's a sofa in there and the door locks."

Peter glanced at Matt and saw his expression turn predatory as he grabbed his wife's hand. He made some halfhearted excuse about checking out the auction items, pulling her behind him. Then they were gone, leaving him alone at the table with Megan. He turned to make his excuses and get the hell out of there, but the look on her face told him there was no way he'd be able to make a quiet exit.

"You looked like you were having fun. Go back to your date. We can talk later." He was about to make another excuse when Heather, a woman he'd been out with a couple times, slipped her arm through his.

"Peter, I've missed you," Heather said. She wet her lips and tucked her long blond hair behind her ear.

He imagined the gesture was supposed to be seductive, but he was annoyed at the intrusion. "Good evening, Heather. You look lovely tonight," he said out of habit.

"You should have called to let me know you were back in town. We could catch up tonight, if you wanted." The last bit was whispered in his ear.

Meg narrowed her eyes, not at all pleased, but it wasn't his fault. If she wanted to keep their relationship a secret, this was what she could expect.

"I've been swamped," Peter said. "I haven't had time for any socializing."

"But you have time now," she said and pressed herself into him. "Let's get a drink."

"I hate to break up the reunion," Meg said with cloying sweetness. "But we were in the middle of something."

"Oh, Maggie, right? Don't worry," Heather said, tightening her grip on his arm. "I'm just going to borrow him for a few minutes."

She tried to pull him to the other side of the table. Now Peter was annoyed. "Heather, Megan and I were having a very important discussion. If you'll excuse us." He pried out of her grasp and motioned for Meg to follow him. Heather huffed and took off in the opposite direction. "Sorry about that. Like I was saying, Jesse called and I need to go," he said. "Enjoy the rest of the evening."

"What the fuck's going on?" She had one hand cocked on her hip and her heeled foot was tapping impatiently. "Is this how it's going to be from now on? Every time we have sex, you're going to freak the fuck out?"

"Well excuse me for being the bigger man here. I'm trying to let you continue your date without the awkwardness of the guy you're screwing hanging around," he shot back.

"Now you're just being an asshole," she said through clenched teeth. "We're supposed to be friends. Our other arrangement has nothing to do with our friendship. That's the whole fucking point."

"Why did you have to bring Connor, of all people?"

"I thought we'd established that my relationship with Connor was none of your business."

"What did you think was going to happen, Meg?" he asked, fighting the urge to shake her. "Did you think we'd just hang out and have drinks? The last time I saw Connor I'd just come from your bed."

She stepped closer, anger rolling off her in waves. "This isn't a dick-measuring contest, so put it away."

Several people had stopped their conversation and were now staring at them.
Great.
That was just what they needed—a public scene making the gossip column. Peter looked around, feeling boxed in by the crowd suddenly. Since she was determined to press the issue, there were a few things he wanted to get off his chest, starting with his feelings about Connor, but this was too public a place for that discussion. "Can we go somewhere less crowded to talk?" he asked.

Meg looked around, most likely trying to spot Connor, and shrugged. "Fine. But this is the last time we are going to have this conversation, Peter. This is either going to work for both of us, or we need to end it."

He couldn't agree more.

Peter headed out of the ballroom, but even the hall was filled with people. He did a quick scan, trying to remember the layout. Back in college he'd occasionally moonlighted as a waiter for events just like these. He knew there was a staff hallway that would be out of the way, and afford them a little more privacy. He followed a server holding an empty tray as he disappeared behind a nondescript door and headed that direction.

Megan wanted to strangle Peter. She didn't know what pissed her off more—the fact that he was acting like the jilted lover or that he expected her to come alone while he was with Stephanie.

She followed him, silently fuming, until they were in a poorly lit, dingy hallway. It wasn't her first choice for this conversation, but it was private enough. She didn't wait for him to start. Instead, she went on the offensive.

"You have no right to be angry. I don't understand why it matters that I'm here with Connor."

"God damn it, Meg. It matters," he said, raking a hand through his hair. "This whole situation is awkward as fuck. That's exactly why I didn't come with a date."