Page 30 of Under Fire

“Oh, right.” Jen stopped dead in her tracks, surprise flashing across her perfectly painted face, but corrected herself and offered a fake bright white smile.

“Gaudet mentioned that you have a girlfriend?”

“Yeah, this is Alisa,” Warren said. His arm remained protectively across her.

Before Alisa could open her mouth, she was already being assaulted.

“So nice to meet you. Have you met anyone?” Jen grabbed Alisa’s hand without so much as asking, foisting her into a group of women hovering around the kitchen island.

Alisa fell into the edge of the quartz, observing the disapproving faces of the women surrounding it. They all looked pretty damn similar. They all looked like So-Cal girls. She felt immediately like an outcast, despite having been born and raised in LA.

“This is Warren’s new girlfriend.” Jen smirked, as if feeding her to the hounds. “Have fun.”

Then Jen flicked her long, bleached hair, spinning back to Warren and yanking him away as she loudly exclaimed that they would go see her fiancé. Alisa felt like a puppy being dropped off, wondering if she’d ever see him again. His gaze darted back to Alisa, mouthing that he’d be back in a minute.

Just be cool. Only a minute.

Alisa’s heart rate rose even higher, and she wasn’t totally sure she’d last long. Turning back to the group of women, she felt her anxiety screaming higher and higher. She danced her fingers on the quartz, looking for interesting textures.

One of the women at the island flashed pictures of her baby at the group, talking about it had just hit a milestone or something. The chatter continued, and Alisa struggled to keep track. As someone pushed a glass of white wine at her, she tried to decode the last comment made, but the women kept moving through topics—babies, mothering, daycare.

“How many do you want?” A brunette turned to Alisa, raising her eyebrow and looking in the direction where Warren had gone. “Fine stock like him, I’d think you’d want to have as many as you can.”

“Have as many…what?” Alisa tilted her head, a little confused.

“Babies!” Another woman laughed, as if Alisa couldn’t be serious.

The other women around the island chuckled, and Alisa found herself shaking her head. She should have just lied to them, but she didn’t. She didn’t fake it. And that was her first mistake.

“I don’t want any,” Alisa said.

Her words were met by radio silence. In fact, several of the other women’s mouths dropped. Alisa cringed, hating her own reply.They don’t understand.

“I’m just not like that,” Alisa added, as if she had to defend herself.

“Does he know that?” The brunette confronted her, eyes wide open, searching between Alisa and the hallway where Warren went. “I’d disclose that upfront, if I were you.”

Alisa shook her head, unsure how to respond. She chewed her lip and finally just admitted, “I’m more career focused. That’s my thing.”

But around the island, they did not seem to buy in. Eyes glazed over, and she could tell she was being rejected. Then the chittering started.

“Wow, I didn’t expect he’d go for that. His last girlfriend was likeMiss Homemaker,” said one.

Another leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s like a totally different person now.”

“Well, I made a choice to give up my career and focus on supporting Travis,” said a woman with dark blonde hair. She proudly beamed at the rest of the ladies. “That was the only way it would work since we wanted kids. He’s a real family man, always has been.”

“I knew what I was getting into when I married a SEAL,” another agreed, then let out a girlish giggle, clearly a little tipsy.

“You can’t have three young kids, a husband on back-to-back deployments and still make partner at the firm,” the first chimed back in, cutting Alisa completely out of the conversation. “Unless you want your kids to be raised by a nanny, which I don’t.”

Alisa opened her mouth to say something but realized she had been forgotten. She felt her body floating backward into the empty space in the kitchen. Alisa could just barely hear that the conversation between the women went on without her at the island, and she was thankful for that. She wanted to stop being seen.

Zoning out, Alisa gulped back whatever wine was left in her glass. She winced at thoughts running wild through her mind. As much as she’d left the island, she’d promptly created her own—an island of one. Hovering by herself, hoping to disappear, she gazed around, mortified that Warren would catch her being anti-social. People were talking, drinking, laughing everywhere around her.What are they talking about? How am I supposed to talk to them?Her gaze darted from left to right, finding herself increasingly disconnected from the present.

She felt motionless, suspended in mid-air, observing a room she wasn’t really in. She couldn’t drum up the energy to paint on a fake smile. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. She didn’t want anyone to talk to her. She just wanted to be alone, in the middle of that loud, busy party. So, she cowered—afraid of what that meant.

“Hey.” A warm, strong hand pressed onto her lower back.

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