Keeping the Pieces

by Brenda Lowder

  Honey frowned, the sides of her mouth creasing with faint lines. “Do you have to do that?” she asked Cam.

  “What?” He stubbornly hung on to the frame.

  Honey nodded to his hands on the doorframe.

  Cam shrugged. “It’s not bothering anybody.”

  “It’s bothering me,” she answered before he’d finished speaking. Emma shot a look at Derek. His eyes danced back at her.

  “And isn’t your shoulder hurting?” he asked Cam with raised eyebrows.

  “It feels better now,” Cam mumbled before hanging limply in the doorway for a beat then dropping woodenly down onto his feet. He stared at Honey until she turned sideways on the couch and faced away from him.

  Emma glanced again at Derek, and he returned her look, a gleam of triumph shining in his eyes. Honey and Cam’s relationship was cracking apart. This was almost too easy. They weren’t even an hour into their getaway weekend.

  Emma decided to pretend the understated drama had not just happened. She cleared her throat. “I’m hungry too. Where’s a good place for dinner around here?”

  Honey looked up and bit her bottom lip. “There’s one restaurant in town that’s pretty good—Chateau LeGrand.” She unfolded her long legs from the couch and stood on the bearskin rug. “I’ll make a reservation.” Honey walked past Cam in the entryway, staring at him with a frown as she went by. He turned and watched her go.

  ∞∞∞

  Chateau LeGrand was as fancy as its name. Which is to say not all that fancy since it was trying too hard to be so.

  They were shown to the best table in the place and sat boy-girl, boy-girl at a round table set for four in a dim corner of the imitation French farmhouse. Honey immediately ordered wine and focused so much on the bottle when it came that Emma feared she might drink it all by herself. Emma had felt pretty confident that she was well-dressed enough for tonight’s events, until she’d seen what Honey was wearing.

  Emma wore a short black cocktail dress with another plunging neckline that Derek had helped her choose. But where Emma was dark and shadow, Honey was pure light. Her hair was piled atop her head in glossy curls. A golden circlet threaded through her tresses, nodding to the Grecian goddess theme of her flowing white column dress. Another golden circle wrapped around her upper arm. Emma would have thought the effect would be too costume-y, but on Honey it just worked. She was beautiful. Regal. Bold.

  Emma wanted to crawl under the table and forget she thought she could compete with this woman.

  Derek fidgeted in his seat, and his knee bumped Emma’s under the table. She looked at him, gauging his intention.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away.

  Not a romantic overture, then. Not that she wanted it to be, of course.

  In fact, now that Emma really looked at Derek, she noticed he was a little pink in the face.

  Dressed in a button-down shirt, tie, and black dress pants that stretched across his muscled thighs, he was perfectly appropriate to the room. But he pulled at his collar like it was strangling him. He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt, then smoothed his tie and readjusted the knot. He started scratching the back of his neck until he caught her staring at him, and his face reddened even more. Emma looked down at her menu.

  Derek was nervous.

  What was intimidating him? The artful arrangement of the trio of plastic votive candles on the table? Or the flickering LED lit torch sconces on the wall? The hundred-dollar bottle of Cabernet Honey was well on her way to finishing herself? Or the other patrons dressed in their Sunday best?

  “Don’t be nervous,” she whispered. “You’ve got this. You’re the hottest guy in the room.” She patted his arm in encouragement. His biceps were steel under the fabric of his suit jacket. There was a sudden dip in Emma’s stomach she chose to ignore.

  “Easy to say when you’re not the knife in the fork drawer.” He shrugged.

  Emma suppressed a smile. Derek shouldn’t feel uncomfortable anywhere. He was so attractive, so self-assured. Powerful. Kind. Compassionate. He had it backwards. No one in here measured up to him.

  He’d been nervous before the Earth Drinks work party, too, she remembered. He’d told her in the car before they went in that he felt unequal to the occasion. She shook her head. Crazy.

  He’d been so supportive through this whole ordeal with her parents. And he’d upped her game with the plan. She couldn’t imagine doing it without him. Derek’s encouragement—their partnership—had come to mean so much.

  A surge of hostility toward Honey welled up in Emma’s chest. Honey was ruining both Derek’s and Cam’s lives by not letting either of them move on. When Emma had joined forces with Derek, she’d thought she’d be willing to sacrifice him to win Cam, but here Cam and Derek were now, both of them stuck loving Honey while she frowned and withheld from both of them.

  “Honey, I can’t make heads or tails out of this menu. Help me out?” Derek leaned over into Honey’s personal space and openly ogled her cleavage.

  Maybe she was okay with Honey getting Derek after all.

  Honey smiled and leaned into Derek, her eyes soft. “Mais, oui. But of course.”

  Emma rolled her eyes and looked back down at her menu. Steak or chicken? She glanced at Cam to see what he was thinking and followed his eyes to where he was staring at Derek and Honey.

  Well, this was what they were here for.

  “Do you see anything you like?” Emma made herself lean into Cam’s personal space and grasp for his attention. She squeezed her arms close to her sides so her own assets were better displayed.

  He blinked and tore his eyes away from his fiancée and her former trainer and stared down the neckline of Emma’s new little black dress.

  “I meant on the menu.” Emma laughed softly, pitching her voice low.

  Cam’s gaze snapped to Emma’s face and he blushed. She had his attention for this second. How long could she hold it before he was back obsessing over what Derek and Honey were doing?

  “What was the question?” He blinked.

  She scooted her chair closer to his, the wrought-iron legs scraping loudly on the floor. “I think I’ll look at your menu with you.” She glanced up at him under her long lashes. “I can’t see mine very well.”

  He leaned back in his seat to make room for her and held the menu between them, draping his arm on the back of her chair. She smiled to herself. Mission accomplished. She’d squeezed him out of space. His arm had to go somewhere. Wrapped around her would be the right answer. She was moving forward with the plan. Just like Derek.

  She stole a glance across the table. Derek and Honey coalesced behind one shared menu, using it as a privacy screen. She returned her attention to Cam to find that she’d lost his. He stared at Derek and Honey with narrowed eyes.

  Time to turn up the heat.

  She put her hand on Cam’s thigh and squeezed.

  His attention returned to her with a jump.

  She didn’t acknowledge her hand or where it was. She left it on his thigh, ignoring it completely, like it was something she normally did. Something she was allowed to do. A welcomed touch instead of a surprising one. “I was thinking about getting the filet, but I don’t know if that will be too heavy. What are you thinking?” She started rubbing little circles with her hand.

  He looked at her with wide eyes and scratched his cheek. “Yeah, um, maybe. Steak is always good. Yes. Yes to steak.”

  Why was he getting so emphatic? Because he was saying yes to steak and no to her? Or was he just surprised? Shocked?

  She didn’t blame him. She was shocking herself.

  She lifted her thigh-hand to point at the description of the cassoulet. “That could be good.”

  The arm he’d draped across the back of her chair lifted, hesitated, then landed lightly on her back. She froze, not wanting to startle him into moving it. She scooted closer until she was almost in his seat. His arm tightened ever-so-slightly around her.

  She closed her eyes, fe
eling the warmth of Cam’s arm spreading over her back, her mind fast-forwarding to them alone together, turning to each other, Cam lowering his head to kiss her.

  Honey’s voice cut through her fantasy, making her jump and drop the menu. “Right, Cam?”

  “Sorry, what?” The look he gave Honey and the hovering waiter was dazed.

  “I ordered the steak for you.”

  Cam blinked at her. “Why?”

  “Why, what?”

  Cam leaned forward, placing both of his arms on the table and leaning on them heavily. Emma’s back was suddenly cold.

  “Why did you order steak for me?” His jaw tightened. “I can order my own steak.”

  Honey offered up a face-saving smile. “Yes, but you were going to order the steak anyway.”

  “Maybe I wasn’t.” He leaned back and folded his arms across his broad chest. “Maybe this time I was going to order—” he paused to grab the menu from the floor and open it, “the cassoulet that Emma was telling me about.”

  Emma blanched and her stomach churned. She was feeling a bit too embroiled in their affairs.

  The waiter crept forward, pen poised above notepad.

  Honey tilted her chin at Cam. “Are you going to order the cassoulet?”

  “I could. I’m considering it. It’s not like the rest of my life. I can still make menu choices.”

  Honey’s back was ramrod straight. “No one said you couldn’t.”

  Cam picked up his linen napkin from the table. He nodded to the waiter. “I’ll have the filet. Medium rare.”

  Emma caught the ghost of a satisfied smile on Honey’s shapely lips and wondered if Cam had too.

  “Very well, monsieur. And for mademoiselle?” He looked at Emma expectantly, but she hadn’t yet recovered from Cam’s outburst.

  This might be the very moment of Honey and Cam’s breakup. The moment that would decide all her future happiness with the man she’d always loved. And the waiter wanted an answer about food?

  She ordered anyway. “I’ll also have the filet. Medium rare, please.”

  “Very well.” The waiter hurried away.

  Honey leaned in Cam’s direction and tugged on his sleeve. “May I speak to you privately, please?”

  “No.”

  Emma froze. Derek raised his eyes to her. Their eyes locked. The pull of anticipation pulsed between them.

  “No?” Honey breathed, eyes wide. Emma wondered if any man had ever told her “no” before. From the look on her face, Emma didn’t think so.

  Cam picked up his napkin and smoothed it in his lap.

  Then he did the most surprising thing.

  Keeping his eyes on Honey’s, he picked up Emma’s hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it.

  The bottom fell out of Emma’s stomach. This was the moment she’d longed for and the face-to-face confrontation she’d never wanted.

  Honey’s gaze slid from Cam to Emma. She swallowed. “Emma, will you please accompany me to the ladies’ room?”

  Panic punched Emma’s gut. Emma had wanted Cam, but she hadn’t really pictured how winning him would come about. Certainly not as the center of all of their angsty breakup events.

  She shot Derek a terrified look, but his eyes darted to Honey and back again before he shrugged. Emma was on her own. She put her napkin on the table and shuffled to her feet.

  Honey retrieved her Ferragamo bag from under the table and stood. She paused by the table, raising an eyebrow at Emma.

  “Coming.” Emma grabbed her own purse and avoided eye contact with both Derek and Cam as she followed Honey from the table.

  The moment the outer bathroom door closed behind them, Honey whirled around, arms folded.

  “What’s going on?” Honey stepped to Emma, too close, and Emma found herself shrinking away, wishing she could melt through the wall and end up on the other side.

  “What do you mean?” Emma blinked and tried not to look down and to the left. She’d recently watched a police drama where the suspect was caught lying because he’d looked down and to the left. Or was it up and to the left? Or right? Damn it, she should have paid more attention.

  Honey took a deep breath. Her lips turned down and those lines appeared around her mouth again. The stress was aging her. Emma was aging her. “Are you in love with my fiancé?”

  Well, that was one thing Emma sure hadn’t expected—a sincere and open discussion. Damn Derek and Cam for leaving her to deal with this herself.

  Emma cleared her throat and shook her head before she even began speaking. “Don’t be silly. Why would I go after your fiancé? I have one of my own.”

  Honey made a little nodding motion with her head, but she paced in front of the sinks and her eyes skipped restlessly around the room, finally landing on Emma’s face. “So you’ve said.”

  Emma backed toward the door, shaking her head. “Because he is.” Her voice squeaked, and she didn’t blame Honey for doubting her. She wouldn’t have believed herself.

  The pacing stopped. “I don’t see you two together.”

  Emma pulled her shoulders back. “Excuse me, but yes, you have. You’ve seen us together a lot. Because we’re a couple.”

  Honey rolled her eyes. “The two of you don’t fit. I would not have imagined the two of you together.”

  Emma hugged her arms around her middle. Honey was like her mother. Always finding a way to say she wasn’t good enough. Pointing out her very real inadequacies in her very fake relationship.

  But Emma didn’t lie and scheme her way here to lose. “And yet he is.” She took a step forward. “And I don’t appreciate the way you’ve been flirting with him right in front of my face.”

  Honey laughed. She threw her head back and gave a full-throated, belly-grabbing expression of mirth.

  “I think you’re after my fiancé, and I think that after all these years he’s finally throwing you a crumb. If I were you, I’d enjoy it. But there’s no way Derek’s in love with you.” Honey cast her eyes up and down, examining Emma from head to toe. Emma wanted to melt into the wall again. She’d even settle for melting into the dirty tile floor if Honey would stop looking at her like that.

  But she couldn’t give in. Honey was more engaged at this moment fighting for Derek than she’d ever been. Emma couldn’t back down, else there’d be nothing for Honey to triumph over. Besides, fake fiancé or not, Emma didn’t appreciate being told she couldn’t get Derek if she wanted him. She could damn well get Derek. In fact, if she weren’t so much in love with Cam, she might already have Derek. Hadn’t they shared a real moment or two? A spark? A fizzy, giddy feeling like if they weren’t preoccupied with the person they already loved, something would have happened between them already?

  Was it all in her mind?

  No. She hadn’t imagined the look of desire on both Cam and Derek’s faces. How was she letting Honey get to her like this? Exploiting all of her worst insecurities about herself?

  “Just because you’re having problems with your fiancé doesn’t give you license to mess with mine. Cam wouldn’t be making a show of kissing my hand if you were keeping him happy. I suggest you look at yourself and your own relationship and stay the hell out of mine.” Emma turned on her heel. With her glossy hair swinging behind her, she left the bathroom with her head held high.

  “What was that all about?” Cam put a hand on Emma’s arm when she sat back down at the table. Honey approached the group in time to hear the question. She sat slowly, her eyes on Emma.

  “Oh, you know, girl talk.” Emma smiled. “Oh, goodie. Salads are here.” Emma dug into hers with an enthusiasm she didn’t feel. Cam, Derek, and Honey all watched her for a moment before attacking their own salads.

  Inside, Emma seethed. How dare Honey monopolize both men at this table? Did every man exist only to serve her whims? And her mocking, condescending tone when she’d told Emma that she couldn’t imagine her and Derek together still tore at the edges of Emma’s self-esteem.

  She realized she was glarin
g at Honey when she caught Derek nodding to her with his eyebrows raised. She shook her head and applied her unwanted passion to her pears and gorgonzola on field greens with a balsamic vinaigrette.

  She’d find a way to make Honey believe their lie. It was halfway to a truth almost, anyway.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  When they got back to the house, Cam flopped on the couch and turned the giant TV to whatever game ESPN was showing. Emma didn’t follow sports, but she’d never tried. She’d have to change that in order to garner more of Cam’s attention. He loved to explain things, so that shouldn’t be too hard.

  Emma sat on the couch, leaving enough room between them to avoid triggering another impromptu Honey confrontation.

  “So who’s playing?”

  Cam looked up and smiled at her, but before he could answer the television clicked off.

  “Hey!” he yelled.

  Honey was holding the remote. “I don’t think ESPN is a good idea, do you? We’re on vacation. Before the most important event of our lives. We need to spend time alone.” She stretched the last word out in a seductive lilt.

  Although Honey’s delivery promised there’d be fun on offer in the bedroom, Emma doubted it. As angry as Honey was at Cam at dinner, she was going to make him pay. He’d be tricked into walking into the mother of all lectures behind closed doors tonight.

  Apparently Cam’s thoughts were on the same track as Emma’s because instead of leaping to his soon-to-be-bride’s side, he lumbered to his feet with a much-put-upon growl of discontent before following Honey. Just before they reached the hallway, she turned around with a smile. “Don’t stay up too late watching TV, you two. We leave for rafting at seven tomorrow morning.”

  Emma didn’t think she imagined the emphasis Honey put on “staying up late to watch TV” as if there were nothing else she and Derek would be doing together.

  Emma jumped up. “Oh, we’re going to bed too.” She grabbed Derek’s hand, which startled him since it had been supporting his face as he dozed in the easy chair.