by Elise Noble
“Which is why I’m qualified to advise. Speak to Black and clear the air. Don’t let whatever happened fester and grow because you’ll end up hurting yourself as well as him. I meant what I said earlier. You two were always destined to be together, no matter how much I once wished otherwise.”
“He lied to me,” she whispered.
“Then he’s got a hell of a lot of grovelling to do.”
Another long pause. Emmy was thinking, and Alaric wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Sometimes, she’d mull over a problem and come up with a solution way out of left field. But tonight, she just smiled.
“I think maybe I’ll have that cheesecake now.”
“Two pieces? Or do you want to share?”
“Two pieces. What were you thinking about?”
“Beth.” Since they were being honest with each other.
“You like her, don’t you?”
“I do. I more than like her.”
“And have you told her?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Firstly, I’m her boss, and secondly, I always promised myself I wouldn’t get involved with anyone until I found Emerald and cleared my name. That fucking painting’s cursed my life, and I’ll always be on a crusade until it’s found.”
That and he was scared. Scared of rejection. Since the night on the couch, Beth had pulled back.
“Black’s my boss,” Emmy pointed out.
“Bullshit. Nobody’s the boss of you.”
“And how bossy do you feel towards Bethany? On a scale of ‘I want her to rearrange my schedule’ to ‘she can spank me any day’?”
Alaric had to smile at that. “I’d hand her the fucking paddle.”
“Well, there you go. Just tell her. Don’t make the same mistake I did with Black.”
And the sadness was back. Further distraction was called for. Alaric waved a hand, and the waitress hurried over.
“Two slices of chocolate orange cheesecake, sweetheart. Is Milo’s still open?”
“Comin’ up. And Milo’s is always open.”
“Prince, we’re not going dancing.”
“What, you want to waste that sparkly top? Since we’re reliving our misspent youth tonight, we’re going dancing. Just try not to lose your shoes this time.”
CHAPTER 39 - EMMY
“EMMY, YOU’RE GONNA have to help me out here.”
I tried, honestly I did, but my legs refused to cooperate. Was that me giggling? Oh, right, it was.
“No more cocktails for you. Ever.”
Alaric tipped me sideways and dragged me out of the passenger seat by my armpits. I made a half-hearted attempt to hop towards the house, but thankfully he picked me up bridal-style before I broke my ankle. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung on. The driveway was rippling like a demented snake.
“Have I ever told you that I love you?” I slurred.
Honestly, after all the shit I’d inadvertently rained down on him, I didn’t deserve his company, but the selfish part of me accepted it anyway.
“No, actually, but it’s nice to finally hear it. Do you need to puke before I take you inside?”
I considered the question carefully. My stomach felt kind of weird, sort of churny, but—
“What the hell is going on here?”
Uh-oh. Ana looked pissed.
“I might have drunk a teenshy bit too much.”
“I’ve been trying to call you. I was worried.”
“Her purse is in the car,” Alaric said. “I haven’t heard her phone ring, but the music was deafening. If I’d known you were looking for her…”
“Where’s her other shoe?”
“No idea.”
“Please don’t maim Alaric. I forgot the cocktails and drank too much time.”
Or was it the other way around?
“You definitely did not forget the cocktails.”
Oops. Was Ana really mad? I wasn’t sure I could disarm her while I was a bit tipsy.
“I’m sorrrrrrrry. It was all my fault. And maybe the bartender’s. He told me I have nice eyes. Do I have nice eyes?”
Finally, Ana…well, she didn’t exactly smile, but she did look a little less like she wanted to murder someone.
“I guess at least you’re happier than you were earlier.”
My head lolled back, and boy, the stars looked really twinkly at whatever time of night it was. Or morning. Was it morning?
“Can you get the door?” Alaric asked.
I tried to ask what door, but the words went funny in my throat. Sort of fuzzy and sticky and too big for my mouth. Oh, look, it was all dark now.
What was wrong with my head? Was a piledriver doing a mating dance in my skull? The last time I’d felt this rough was after I got into a drinking competition with Pale and Black—who was on one of his rare cheat days—and lost. Badly.
Wait a second… Black. Pale. Those bastards.
Slowly, slowly, the events of yesterday evening came back to me, and that hurt worse than the headache. Black’s betrayal, tempered slightly by Alaric’s sweetness afterwards. I needed to apologise to Alaric, both with words for being such a mess last night and also with actions for what Black had done to him.
But first, I had to do something about this hangover. Where was my phone? I didn’t remember bringing my purse home last night, but there it was on the nightstand. Come to think of it, I couldn’t recall getting into these pyjamas either. Was drunk me better at finding things in my closet than sober me, or did I have help?
“Bradley?” I asked when he picked up.
“Oh, good, you got my message. Blue or green?”
“What message? Blue or green what?”
“The earrings, of course.”
Who knew? Who cared? “Why don’t you just get both?”
“Because you keep telling me not to do that. Are you feeling okay?”
“I might’ve had a tiny bit too much to drink last night.”
“In that case, you need to take one Siberian ginseng capsule, sixteen hundred micrograms of prickly pear cactus extract, a piece of ginger—fresh, not dried or pickled—two borage lozenges, the recommended dose of Tylenol, a cup of milk thistle tea… Are you writing all this down?”
“Right now, I wouldn’t even know which way up to hold the pen.”
“I’ll email you a list. And you need to have breakfast. Lightly burned toast, muesli, half a litre of orange juice, and plenty of water. Oh, and wear sunglasses.”
“My brain’s broken.”
“You’d better fix it because if you being worse for wear means I can shop more, I see a lot more drinking in your future.”
“Bad news. I’ve decided I’m going teetotal.”
Bradley’s squeak sounded like a mouse being run over by a bicycle. “Gotta go. I have jewellery to buy.”
Bollocks, what had I done?
I stumbled into the bathroom and leaned over the sink as a wave of nausea hit. Hungover me stared back from the mirror. I’d cried my mascara off before I went out yesterday, which meant those big black smudges under my eyes were all natural. And my mouth tasted like I’d been chewing cigarette butts. Had I been smoking last night? I wouldn’t have put it past myself.
Downstairs, I staggered into the kitchen. I’d been planning to make coffee and then go back to bed, but that plan flew out the window when I found Ana and Alaric waiting for me. Brilliant. I collapsed onto a stool at the breakfast bar instead.
“Uh, good morning?”
They glanced at each other.
“Is it?” Ana asked.
“I’ve had better.”
She pushed a glass of orange juice towards me. “Drink this.”
Had she been talking to Bradley?
“Sorry about last night,” I said. Ana had been there for me after the fight, and what had I done? Made her anxious. “I turned my phone off in case Black tried to call, but I should’ve texted you.”
“Forget it. I knew you could look after yourself; I just didn’t want you to be alone.”
“I had to get away from Riverley.”
“I understand that.” Ana checked her watch. “Do you need me this morning? I’m meant to go to the school.”
“Is Tabby okay?”
“She’s fine. The PTA asked me to help decorate the hall for the summer fair. Those people are more persuasive than hostage negotiators.”
As the saying went, laughter was the best medicine. Thanks, Ana.
“You’re going to Tabby’s school to make garlands and stick crêpe paper flowers to the walls?”
“It’s not fucking funny.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Why don’t you join me, Auntie? I’ll even let you use the glue gun.”
“Sorry, I’m too busy dying of alcohol poisoning. Has anyone got Tylenol?”
Alaric passed me a fresh packet, then took a seat opposite. “I was going to make you a Bloody Mary, but your sister wouldn’t let me.”
“You’ve done quite enough damage already,” Ana scolded, but she didn’t sound as annoyed as she had last night. It was more of a warning not to let me get into that state again. “I’ll come over after school unless I get arrested for murder.”
“Is it possible to kill someone with a staple gun?”
“I’m not sure the carotid is close enough to the skin to bleed out from the staples themselves, but there’s always bludgeoning.”
“Or you could just staple their lips together so they can’t eat?”
“Or talk. That would actually solve my problem.”
Alaric got up and herded Ana towards the door. “No killing, no maiming. Why don’t you offer to paint instead?”
“It’s definitely possible to kill someone with a paintbrush.”
“I don’t want to know. Off you go, have fun. I’ll take care of Emmy.”
Ana glared at him as she left, but at least no knives were thrown. I had to look for the positives in life, didn’t I?
“So…” I started.
“Ana’s right. I should have stopped you drinking sooner. One minute you were dancing, and the next, you were trying to lick the bartender’s face.”
“Ah, shit.”
“He took it in good humour.”
“Where’s Sky? Does she know what a bad role model I’m being?”
“She was asleep when we got home last night, and she left early this morning.”
Thank goodness. Training her would be so much harder if she knew I was a complete hypocrite. Do as I say, not as I do. I reached across the breakfast bar and gave Alaric’s hand a squeeze.
“Thanks for being there for me. I needed your special brand of antidepressants.”
“Just think about what I said, okay? Uh, do you remember what I said? About not running from your problems?”
“I remember. I’ll talk to Black.” Perhaps I could use another drink after all? “Will you talk to Beth?”
“I guess I’ll have to man up and have that conversation. But we’re meant to be flying to England tomorrow for her sister’s wedding, so I might wait until afterwards. No sense in adding to the stress.”
“She doesn’t get on with her family?”
“You could say that. She’s taking me as her plus-one to spite her ex-husband.”
“Gee, look at us both with our normal, healthy relationships. Do you need to borrow a plane?”
“Thanks for the offer, but Beth already booked our tickets.”
“When are you coming back?”
“Next Sunday. The wedding’s this Friday, but Beth wants to see her horse, and Rune breaks up for the summer at the end of next week. I need to collect her from school, and she’ll want to visit Judd before she comes here.”
“You’re spending the summer in the US?”
“With Rune, yes. I’m not sure how long Beth’ll stay. Her horse is important to her.”
“I’ve got eight stables, and only three of them are occupied. Just saying.”
My horse, Stan—formerly known as Satan, which gives some idea of his character—had primo position next to the door. He also had double glazing, central heating, and a television courtesy of Bradley. Dustin’s old mare was still ticking along, and Luke’s sister, Tia, had brought one of her Arabians over from England a few months ago now that she spent most of her time stateside.
Alaric squeezed my hand back. “It’s a bit early for that. We don’t even have a place to stay.”
“The guest house?”
“You and Black need space. I know I’m not helping matters.”
“He’ll just have to get over himself. This is my home too.”
“Emmy, it’s easier if we rent a place.”
“Actually, I might be able to help out there. Remember before you left, you were looking at houses for sale near here? And I came with you?”
A flicker of sadness crossed Alaric’s face, but only for a moment and then it was gone.
“I remember.”
“And your favourite was that old brick-built place on the hill. The fixer-upper with the great views?”
“The foreclosure? Yeah, I still think about those views. They were straight out of a Clyde Aspevig painting.”
“Well, I bought it and fixed it up.” I stared down at the granite counter to hide the fact that my eyes were watering. Why was I so emotional at the moment? “I kind of hoped you’d come back to live in it.”
“Cinders, I’m sorry.”
“The past is the past now. We’ve both moved on.” I forced myself to look at Alaric again. “But it’s good to know you’re around again. More than anything, I missed our chats.”
“I’m just thankful you’re still talking to me.”
“Like you said, I understand the compulsion to run.” Even now, I itched to drive to the airport. “Anyhow, the house… The people renting it moved out a couple of months ago, and it’s still empty. Must be fate or something. It’s yours for however long you want it.”
The offer wasn’t quite as selfless as it sounded. Hillside House was six miles from Riverley, and I kind of liked the idea of having Alaric close.
“I’ll pay rent.”
“You bloody won’t.”
“Emmy…”
I folded my arms and stared at him.
“You’re as stubborn as ever.”
“Yup.”
“Then what can I say but thank you?”
“You’re welcome. Always. And are we still going to Penngrove to look for your art thief when you get back from England?”
I had to do everything I could to minimise the damage Black had caused.
“If you’re busy, I can go alone.”
“I’m coming.” Those were words I hadn’t said to Alaric in a long time, albeit in a very different context. “I’ll get Sloane to rearrange my diary.”
“You’re positive?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, I’ll ask Beth to make hotel reservations.”
“No, you two enjoy your trip. Sloane can handle the logistics.”
Speak of the devil… No, not the devil. Sloane was more of an angel. And when I went back upstairs and checked my phone, I had five missed calls from her. Uh-oh. Five calls suggested either butt-dialling or panic. And Sloane was too fastidious to butt-dial.
“What’s up?”
“Black sent an email ordering me to clear his schedule.”
“How long for?”
“Like, forever. I thought it was a mistake, so I called him, and he just said it was no mistake and that he had some issues to deal with. What am I supposed to do? Should I move everything to you and Nick and Nate? Aw, Nate’s gonna go crazy if I do that.”
“I’ll talk to Black, okay?”
“Thank goodness.” Sloane took a deep breath, and I pictured her composing herself. “Uh, is there something I can help you with?”
Hell, she was going to hate me. “Yeah, I need you to clear my schedule…”
CHAPTER 40 - EMMY
BLOODY HELL. IF I thought I’d looked bad this morning, that was nothing compared to Black. Rumpled clothes, messy hair, a day’s worth of stubble, a swollen jaw… Had he slept at all? Now he was sitting at the kitchen table in Riverley Hall, staring at a slice of cold pizza as if it held the answers to life. A small pile of dog biscuits sat next to the plate, and Barkley rested her head on his knee. Turncoat.
“Hey.”
Black’s head snapped up. Boy, those eyes were bloodshot. Had he been on the sauce too?
“You came back.”
“Yes.”
“Diamond, I’m so sorry. For what I did last night and for what I did eight years ago.”
And so he fucking should have been. If I’d been a regular girl, I’d have been packing my bags by now, but our relationship had always been physical in every way. The fight was just an extension of that. The jealousy? I understood that because I felt it too, albeit to a far lesser degree. He’d had other women, not quite in the same way I’d had men, but they’d still been there, lurking in the background.
And maybe, just maybe, when James had asked me what I thought of the whole marrying-Diana-and-running-for-president thing, I possibly might have told him it was a fantastic idea even though I hated it. Why? Because although Black had once complained that Diana was too clingy, she was the one woman he’d brought back to Riverley with him. He thought I didn’t know that, but I did.
I knew who some of the others were too. And even now on the rare occasions I came across one of them, I still felt that hot little bud of fire in my belly, the primal instinct to shove them over a damn cliff. But I didn’t. Perhaps because in the past, I’d had to cope without Black for the best part of a year, and I knew I could survive alone.
I’d be miserable as hell, but I’d survive.
All of which meant I could forgive Black for what he’d done to me, but not for what he’d done to Alaric.
“Sloane said you told her to clear your schedule.”
“How can I work? I can’t even think straight right now.”
“You weren’t thinking straight yesterday either. I’m half surprised you didn’t splatter Alaric against the wall.”
“I wanted to,” Black admitted. “I was angry. Angry at him for being here, angry at you for leaving with him, but most of all, angry at myself for driving you back into his arms.”
