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Lianne huffed. “The one with the bun and beard. Gold rectangular glasses, light brown skin, frumpy pants.”

My eyes landed on someone with that description.

“I think I see him.”

“Okay, well, he invented the–”

“Wait!” I held a hand up. “On a scale of one to eighteen plus, what did he invent?”

“Definitely eighteen plus.”

“I don’t need to know.”

“Maybe you do. You could use it.”

She took a sip of champagne.

I shook my head, turning away from her. I ventured further into the crowd of people, stopping at various paintings and taking in the depth of color and beauty they had to offer. A few people parted just as I turned to continue on, and I saw him. His brown hair was brushed and tucked neatly. I watched as his shoulders shook from a deep laugh. Beside him, a beautiful platinum blonde stood in a couture dress, holding a ridiculous jeweled clutch shaped like a wad of cash. She flipped her bone straight hair over her shoulder.

I felt stupid for feeling anything- for giving into his charm.

I just wanted to go home, but then I realized who made him laugh.

Copper hair.

Deep set lines.

Freckles.

A beautiful woman with a swollen belly on his arm.

Shit.