Page 9 of Don't Forget Me
That drew a laugh out of her. “You’ve always hated ties. Be an adult, Nick, a man, and just live with it.”
He bristled at that but didn’t get a chance to respond as the event organizer stepped up to the microphone. He started speaking about the charity as Franklin appeared nearby, drink in hand.
“Oh.” Sherrie released him. “I hope you don’t mind I borrowed your assistant to get me a drink.”
He wanted to say he did mind, not only because Franklin worked for him during the duration of the movie, but because it was Franklin’s night off. “You couldn’t get your own drink?”
She shrugged and headed toward the young man who looked so out of his element Nick would have laughed if he didn’t feel the same. It didn’t escape his notice how Sherrie’s fingers grazed Franklin’s arm, how the young man’s entire face reddened as he shifted his eyes to Nick in alarm.
Ah, Nick recognized their interaction. Franklin was Sherrie’s new toy. She always chose them young and unimportant to the movie—with a few exceptions—someone whose stardom wouldn’t rise if they revealed their dalliance. He should have felt something, anything.
Instead, he was cold.
Unfeeling.
Franklin handed Sherrie her drink, and she sent him a wink before sauntering back over.
The event organizer scanned the crowd, his eyes settling on them. “Now, Sherrie Thompson is going to speak about our organization a bit.”
Nick snapped his eyes to his wife. Sherrie hadn’t even wanted to come. She’d heard of the Foster Foundation only days ago. She shrugged. “They called and asked, wanting a celebrity to speak.”
But why her?
He didn’t ask as she shoved the drink she hadn’t even sipped at his chest. “I had Franklin get a vodka tonic, your favorite. I knew you’d want it. See, I’m not such a bad wife.”
She sauntered toward the stage, her hips swaying in that way she had that was sure to attract every eye—male or female—in the room.
Nick rubbed his eyes and turned, finding a familiar face across the room. He couldn’t remember her name, but she’d interviewed him on set that morning. It started with a J. She walked toward him with a nod of acknowledgement.
“Mr. Jacobs.”
“Ms…”
“Jasmine Harbor.” She didn’t seem offended he didn’t remember. “I’m supposed to be home right now, but my publication learned of your involvement in tonight’s gala and poof, they put me on the press list.” She didn’t look too happy about that. “I’d love to talk to you about what this foundation means to—”
He didn’t hear the rest as he turned at the sound of Sherrie’s voice from the stage. “Good evening.” She gave them a shy smile as if she had a shy bone in her body. “I’m Sherrie Thompson-Jacobs.” She’d never changed her name, so that was news to Nick. “Protecting children is a cause near and dear to my heart. There are many who don’t have a support system growing up, and it affects them throughout their entire life. My husband and I have supported the Foster Foundation for many years, knowing the best thing in life we can give these kids is a childhood full of love instead of indifference, joy instead of worry. No child deserves to be left behind by the system.”
She placed a hand on her stomach, telegraphing her next words. “I wouldn’t want my own child suffering in a system that couldn’t care for it if something was to happen to me and my husband.”
Her own child.
Own child.
Own child.
No. Way.
Anger burned through Nick at her words, and he didn’t hear the rest of what she said, instead slamming back the drink in two long gulps and handing the empty glass to a passing waiter. He ignored Jasmine’s questioning and marched to the steps at the side of the stage, waiting for Sherrie to finish and step down.
When she said her goodbyes and the crowd buzzed with the almost-news of her pregnancy, she walked toward him, a sly smile on her face. She pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, playing to the audience.
Nick slid his hand into hers like they were a loving couple and pulled her from the crowd and into an alcove at the back of the room.
“You aren’t pregnant,” was the first thing he said. Any passerby might think he was being a jerk to his wife, but he knew for a fact she wasn’t having his kid. Yet, the thoughts grew fuzzy in his mind, and he tried to clear his head.
Her hand drifted to her belly again. “What if I am?”
His eyes narrowed. “Sherrie, last night was our first time in months.” Oh. Oh! Dizzyness overwhelmed him, and he slid his gaze past her to search for a chair that wasn’t there.
