Keeping the Pieces

by Brenda Lowder

  “Oh, this is riveting.” Derek’s tone dripped sarcasm.

  “You don’t have to stay.”

  Derek took a deep breath. He was being an ass, and he didn’t know why. Cam just got to him. Something about the guy really bugged him. Must be that he was Honey’s fiancé. That could have something to do with it. And not that Emma was so fixated on him. He barely knew Emma. Why would he care if she was in love with a self-serving idiot?

  After the seventh dip and pop-up of the idiot’s big head, Derek stood. “You know, I think I’ll take off. Call me if he does something awesome. Or if Honey shows up. On second thought, just call me and tell me everything after you watch it.”

  Emma paused the video. “Will do.”

  Ten seconds later he was standing back out on her front step, shaking his head at her closed and locked door.

  Derek shook his head. Son of a bitch. Even the video of Cam had more of an effect on the ladies in their lives than Derek did.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next day at work, Emma did not get there early, which was unusual. She was always early. She liked to be the first one there. She liked the quiet—and the amount of work she could get done before coworkers, vendors, and clients clamored for her attention.

  But not today. Today she was testing Derek’s theory. Derek said Cam wouldn’t have finished the project himself. Derek said she’d find him scrambling for her help in the morning, begging her to make the presentation for him. It was true Cam relied on her. She knew that, had even encouraged it over the years they’d worked together. She’d always wanted to be indispensable. And his reliance on her kept them close. What was wrong with that?

  A lot, if Derek could be believed. He implied her work was the only thing that Cam wanted from her. If that was true, then there really was nothing between them and no possibility of a future together. Emma had to know that the feelings weren’t only on her side.

  Despite hiding several surveillance cameras in his apartment, she still hadn’t been able to tell how much work Cam had done on the project. He’d exercised for forty-five fantastic minutes, which Emma had enjoyed physically and wholeheartedly, then he’d showered, which she had not seen—her sense of decorum drawing the line at installing a camera in his bathroom. Then he’d gotten a call from Honey, packed up his stuff, and left his apartment.

  Emma was disappointed when the screen went dark—the cameras no longer on since no motion was happening in Cam’s apartment. She didn’t know the end of the story. Cam might have gotten everything done at Honey’s place. The presentation could all be finished and there’d be no need for the worry gnawing at her stomach, telling her he’d only ever cared about how she could help him. But there was no way to know unless she let Cam sink or swim on his own. Presentation finished or not.

  So as much as it was killing her, she went in to work on time, opening the outer door to the luxe Earth Drinks offices at the stroke of eight. As she passed Cam’s open office door, she could see him at his desk, hard at work. Her heart warmed. Cam didn’t even look up as she walked by. There had been no frantic calls to her phone that morning. Whatever Cam was doing, he was doing on his own. Derek was going to owe her ten dollars. Cam was handling things himself. It wasn’t like Cam couldn’t do work on his own. They were just such a great team that, of course, they worked better together.

  Emma settled into her office for the day, a cup of coffee with lots of cream and sugar in her hand, a slight smile curving her lips. She meant something to him. Something more than success at work.

  Cam burst through the doorway.

  “Emma! Thank God you’re here. Finally. Look, I just have some scenarios to run by you. I got the presentation pushed back to one.” He shoved a mass of mangled papers at her. Her stomach turned as she looked at them. Had he done anything at all?

  She swallowed, hard, and pushed down the rising acid in her stomach. “Can you email me what you have so far of the PowerPoint?”

  “I didn’t have time to do the PowerPoint. This is what I have.” He nodded at the steaming pile of nothing on her desk.

  “Didn’t you work on it?”

  “Of course I did,” he snapped.

  Emma blinked at him. He winced and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Em. I just had a lot going on and didn’t get as much done as I wanted to. Help an old friend out?”

  An old friend.

  Yes, she’d help him out. But the sinking feeling somewhere near her heart was telling her that Derek was right, and Cam had no real interest in her whatsoever. And why would he? He had Honey. The world’s most beautiful, real-life Barbie doll.

  But it was her job on the line too. “Sure. I’ll help you, old friend.”

  Oblivious to her sarcasm, his face brightened. He threw his arms around her, his squeeze too tight. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. You’re my best friend. I love you, you know.” He kissed her cheek, and then pulled back, looking slightly surprised at himself.

  No, she didn’t know he loved her. He was engaged to someone else. And that was the whole problem.

  “Let’s get to work.” She’d pay Derek his ten bucks. But suddenly it didn’t feel like she’d lost. Cam hadn’t done his work, true, but they’d gained ground in the love department. She could still feel the warm crush of his arms around her. And that kiss on the cheek was a bit gratuitous for just an “old friend.” And he’d said the word love.

  Didn’t these actions add up to more than just friends?

  Derek was wrong. There was much more going on here than Cam’s dependence on her work ethic. There were feelings, on his side as well as hers.

  And something more. Emma felt it stirring in her lower belly as Cam sat right next to her and spread the papers where they could both see them.

  There was hope.

  Hope and lust, but definitely hope.

  Chapter Twelve

  When Derek got to work the next day, Honey was already waiting for him. His blood pumped harder at the sight of her. Cam didn’t have a prayer. This was only the second day of his jealousy-inducing “relationship” being shoved in Honey’s face, and she was revved up enough to show up early and wait for him.

  He smiled. “Guess you were serious about working out those arms, huh?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, teasing.

  Instead of smiling back, she leaned away. Her expression closed off, hardened. She crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  He looked around. Two other trainers, one of whom was his boss, were chatting a few feet away. He ran a hand through his hair.

  “Okay. Follow me.” He nodded toward the hallway and tromped toward it, not bothering to look over his shoulder to see if she followed. Her coldness said this wouldn’t be good news, and he knew she wouldn’t leave until she’d delivered it. Honey was decisive and resolute. Two things he loved about her.

  Stopping at one of the hallway lockers, he dumped his phone, wallet, and keys inside and slammed the door before turning around and facing her, heart thumping. He glanced past her shoulder down the hall. They were alone.

  “What’s up?”

  He saw her fidget. It was just a flicker of a moment where her hands fluttered as if she didn’t know what to do with them before she straightened to her full height and tipped her chin up.

  “I just wanted to let you know I’m quitting the gym and ending our contract.” She clasped her hands.

  Derek swore he could feel the kick to his gut that this news was. He swallowed and widened his stance.

  “Oh? I think you’ll find you have six months left on your personal training contract. It’s not possible to unilaterally end it.”

  She gave him a pitying glance, and his heart squeezed that she could know he was grasping for any reason to be near her. “You’ll be paid for the final six months, of course. I just won’t be attending any more sessions. Or working out at this facility any longer.”

  “Why’d you come in yesterday?�
�

  A bulky black man in workout clothes passed behind her, and she waited until he’d gone into the men’s locker room before answering.

  She put a hand to her head and winced. “To be honest, I thought seeing you wouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Nice.” He could feel his lip curling with sarcasm.

  She took a deep breath. He was trying her patience, he knew, but he wanted an outburst of emotion from her, something that said he meant more to her than this veneer of professionalism she’d have him believe. “Look, yesterday I apologized. You said everything was fine now because you have Emma.” Her words tumbled over each other. “And I decided it would be best to just make a clean break.”

  Anger surged through him. Anger, driven by his hurt. So much for Emma’s plan. There’d be no “increased access” in his future because there’d be no damn access to Honey at all.

  “Best for you?” he asked, not wanting the conversation to end, not wanting her to sever the connection between them like this.

  She shook her head and lifted her shoulders in a gesture of hopelessness. “Best for both of us.”

  “Why?”

  She looked down for a beat. When she raised her eyes to his, the hardened expression was gone and there was a haunted vulnerability in her gaze that had his pulse stupidly rising again.

  “To avoid temptation,” she said, her voice low.

  He took a step toward her. “I’m a temptation?” He could hear the huskiness in his own voice.

  “Too much of one,” she said and turned on her heel and stalked away.

  Chapter Thirteen

  When Emma got up Saturday morning, the first thing she wanted to see was Cam. She made herself hold off on watching the recordings, though, until she’d showered and put on her makeup. Maybe it was superstitious, but she wanted to feel prepared to see him, almost like they were seeing each other in real life. For something other than work.

  After she’d showered and dressed and done her makeup and hair, she ate some breakfast and made herself wait to turn on the TV until she’d completely finished, despite the jumping up and down in her stomach.

  The second her yogurt spoon was in the dishwasher, she grabbed the remote. But she made herself put it down again and ran to brush her teeth first. When she returned to the living room, she sat down and crossed her legs decorously before picking up the remote again. Finally she turned on the TV and thumbed the buttons until Cam’s apartment appeared on the screen.

  Cam was naked.

  Wow. He was really, actually, demonstrably naked. He strode through his living room in all his unclothed Greek-god glory and sat down to watch what looked like an action movie. Was he always naked when he was home alone?

  Butterflies took flight in her core. Her heart—or maybe parts located South of her heart—thrilled to have this kind of inside access to Cam. Her conscience tugged at her, though, fluttering with guilt. She paused the playback. This was a real invasion of Cam’s privacy. He was sitting there—naked—not knowing she was watching. This was a betrayal of the trust he had in her as his long-time friend.

  Friend.

  That right there was the problem. Unless she did something drastic, a friend is all Cam would ever see her as. This video might provide vital information that would aid her plan and help Emma—and Derek—find a way to be with their forever loves. Which was what would be best for Cam and Honey in the long run too.

  Nodding to herself in agreement, she pushed play again. It didn’t escape her sense of irony that she was watching TV to watch Cam watch TV, but it was a means to an end. Something valuable to her greater understanding of Cam would happen, and she’d be here to see it.

  But not this. As Cam performed some unsavory scratching, Emma pushed the fast-forward button. Nothing to be learned there.

  She slowed the recording when Cam answered his cell phone. From the sound of his side of the conversation, Honey was calling to say she was coming over.

  Emma watched as Cam gathered his dishes from the coffee table and took them to the kitchen. After that he must have spent some time in the bedroom or bathroom getting dressed because the recording ended.

  Video picked up again as Cam answered the door fully dressed and let Honey in.

  Emma scooted to the edge of her seat. Honey didn’t have a key? Emma’s insides warmed. Emma had a key. And Honey didn’t? Honey didn’t, and they were engaged. That had to mean something. Emma smiled. It meant something, all right. It meant Emma was ahead of Honey in most of the ways that mattered. She was the one with superior access to Cam’s life.

  “Cam, sweetie, do you think you could clean up once in a while?” Honey broke onto the screen at full power.

  Even with the poor resolution of the surveillance camera, Honey was beautiful. She strolled across the room on long, slim legs, her back straight with perfect posture, her head held high with slightly elevated chin as if she’d expected Cam’s place to be nicer than the last time she’d seen it.

  “Are you watching a movie?” she asked. Cam had muted the television instead of turning it off when he got up.

  “I was.” Cam hovered behind Honey as if trying to predict her next move, but unsure about what it might be.

  “I don’t want to watch a movie.” Honey frowned.

  “Okay.” Cam was studying Honey with intensity. Emma leaned forward. What exactly was Cam looking at? Honey’s lips? Honey’s breasts, pushed high by a supportive—and perhaps augmentative—bra? The depths of her luminous eyes?

  Emma paused the recording and analyzed the frame.

  Her lips, Emma decided. Cam was studying Honey’s lips. Emma pushed play and a second later Cam licked his own lips, validating Emma’s guess. Oh, she knew her man. Better than Honey did, she’d bet.

  Honey stepped toward Cam and kissed him, pushing him against the table near the door. Cam’s arms went around her, grasping her close. Emma dropped the remote. She suddenly felt the urge to throw up, but she couldn’t look away.

  Honey laced her fingers through Cam’s hair, and there were wet smacking sounds as their tongues tangled that had Emma scrambling for the dropped remote. She muted the recording, but watched them smashing themselves up against each other, groping and caressing. They staggered their way to Cam’s couch and flopped on it together. Honey tore at Cam’s shirt, and Cam ripped off Honey’s.

  Her hands shaking, Emma turned off the television. Any second now, Cam was going to be naked again.

  This time she didn’t want to see it.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Three weeks later, Derek found himself shopping for a tuxedo with his pretend girlfriend.

  “So how do I look?” Derek strode from the dressing room to the open area where Emma was waiting, obviously bored. He was pleased to see her eyes light up. She straightened in her chair.

  “Fantastic! That’s definitely the one.”

  He liked that she was still staring at him. He vamped in front of the three-way mirror for a minute, mostly just to see how long she’d keep looking. He caught her eye in the reflection and raised his eyebrows at her. She looked away, her cheeks pink. He smiled.

  Despite his career that required the ultimate in casual workout clothing, Derek was no stranger to suits. His mother had insisted on raising proper Southern gentlemen, and he and his brothers had worn suits to Sunday School all their lives.

  For this fancy gala at Emma’s work, he’d considered renting a tuxedo—no way was he wearing Cole’s again—but Emma had offered to go shopping with him and apparently they’d have several events together that would require formalwear. He may even have a wedding or two to attend. Perhaps his own.

  He shook the thought from his head, though his mind wanted to wander back to it. He hadn’t known he was the marrying sort.

  But the moment Derek had met Honey, he’d known the only way to truly win her would be to marry her. Anything else would just be pretending. There was a finish line that ended at the altar. And he wasn’t going to let Cam get
there ahead of him.

  Emma’s phone rang, a loud, jangly sound in the small space.

  “Oops, sorry.” She glanced at the display. “It’s my dad. He’s been so depressed these last few weeks, he’ll want a long talk. Let me tell him I’ll call him back.”

  She pushed a button on her phone and took the call. Derek didn’t even try to pretend like he wasn’t listening.

  “What did you say, Dad?” A pause. “You’re kidding.” Another pause. “Are you crazy?” She started panting. Was she hyperventilating? Should he look for a paper bag?

  “O-kaaaay. I’m calm. No, I am. I’m fine. Perfectly fine. More fine than Mom will be ever again. Okay. I love you too.” She pushed the button to end the call and stared at the phone.

  Derek couldn’t stand the suspense. “Well, what? What is it?”

  Emma blinked her big eyes at him. “My father has become a man of action.” She looked down, rubbed her forehead. “His words. He has decided to drive to Mexico and confront my mother and her surfer boy.” When she lifted her head, her eyes were shinier than before.

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  Derek put his hands on his hips, uncertain whether he should try to comfort her. He didn’t know what to say. Thinking about his own parents and the problems they had, he didn’t think there was anything that could be said that would help. “What about the dog? Is he leaving him with you?”

  “No. He’s taking Baxter with him. He said my mother should have to look into both their eyes and see what her actions have cost them.”

  “Surprised he isn’t trying to make you go with him, too, then.”

  Emma made a quick dab at her tears. Her long, thick lashes were wet on her cheeks.

  “I don’t know if I’d help his case. I think they both love Baxter more than they love me.” She tried to laugh, but it came out forced, and he could tell she thought it was true.

  “What are you going to do?”

  Emma took a deep breath. He watched her chest rise and fall. “I don’t think there’s anything I can do. I mean, I could go after them, but it’s obvious that neither of them wants me there. Besides, this is between them. Their relationship with each other. I don’t think my being there would help.”