"That's what I'm trying to ask." Emmy slapped the arm of the chair, her expression stormy. "Why do they have the luck and not Shelby? She's a good person. Karma doesn't need to be worrying about her. Why was she bitchsmacked by love? It doesn't make sense."
"I don't know. It's about finding the right person. It's about someone that meshes with your–"
"If you and Shelby don't know then how can anyone know?" she said irritably. "You've studied relationships your entire adult life and you don't have any more answers than I do."
"Now wait a minute," I protested, holding up my hands. "You're taking what I'm saying and twisting it. There are ways to predict how well a couple is going to do but the rest is up to them. There's always that unknowable spark between two people that can't be defined but when it's there, you know."
Her shoulders slumped and she fell back against the chair cushion. "The magic of love."
"For want of a better term? Yes, there's a bit of sorcery to love, Emmy. It can't be all defined and pinned down. It's part science and part magic. But don't you see, that's what makes it so special and exciting."
From the look on her face I might as well have been speaking Swahili. She didn't get it and that was sad.
"You see it in your job every day," I pressed. "But you choose to concentrate on the ones that don't make it instead of the ones that do."
"And you concentrate on the opposite," she argued. "Is one way any better than the other?"
I opened my mouth to answer and then snapped it shut but she'd already noticed.
"You were going to say that your way is better. My way is wrong."
"It's just more negative," I finally answered, trying desperately to find the right words. "It's not going to make you happy in the end to always focus on what could go wrong. Every day bad things can happen but we don't dwell on them. I could get in a car accident or choke on a hamburger but I don't live my life avoiding cars and cheeseburgers."
There was a long silence and then Emmy sighed and rubbed her hand over her temple.
"Maybe I don't make any sense, but after seeing what Shelby's going through, it's reminded me that no one knows shit about love. Especially me. And if that's true, wouldn't it be prudent for me to be cautious?"
Yes. No. Fuck.
"I just know that I love you, Emmy, and I think that you love me, too." I didn't know what else to say. "Love doesn't always make sense. It's not always logical."
"That's what is so scary."
"I'm not trying to scare you."
"I know, and I'm sorry that I am. But I can't help it."
We'd gone around and around and were back where we started.
"Is what you told Lisa what you really want, Emmy? Do you want me to back off and give you space?"
She didn't answer right away, instead staring down at her hands as if they held the secrets to the universe. When she finally did look up, I knew her answer without her even having to say it.
"I just need to slow down."
There it was. What I'd been dreading.
"I thought we'd moved on from this. I thought we were doing fine."
My heart squeezed in my chest making it hard to breathe. Fear had taken up residence in my gut, churning up the acid until I could taste it at the back of my throat.
"We were, we are," she assured me, her gaze intense. "I just need..."
Her voice trailed away as if she didn't want to finish her thoughts. Because they would hurt me.
"Space. Without me in it."
I'd tried to make a joke but it wasn't all that funny. She was ripping my heart out of my chest with her bare hands.
"It's all just happening so fast."
At this point I couldn't help but agree.
"Maybe you're right. Maybe we've moved too fast. I thought you were opening up to the idea of love, Emmy, but I can see that I was wrong."
Sure, I sounded bitter because I damn well was fucking bitter. I'd let myself fall for Emmy but clearly, she'd only been half in when I'd been all the way.
"Please don't be angry with me."
Her voice was soft and I could hear the hurt in her tone. I wanted to reach out and comfort her but I was too wounded at the moment to be so magnanimous. She'd taken a hammer and smashed me right in the heart. That wasn't going to put a guy in a great mood.
"I'm not angry with you, Emmy. I'm mad at myself." I stood, not wanting to prolong this agony any longer. She wasn't going to suddenly change her mind and tell me it was all a rotten joke. "I think I should go."
I shrugged into my coat as she hovered nearby, probably not knowing what to say any more than I did. Fuck. Everything had been going so well and then this situation with Shelby had thrown it all into disarray.
When my hand went to the doorknob, she finally spoke. "What happens now?"
Since I hadn't predicted any of this, I had no fucking idea.
"I don't know. You're the one that wants space and time. I guess that's up to you."
Yep, I sounded like an asshole. I'd be sorry about it later but right now it was the only thing that made me feel better. Making her hurt just a fraction of what I did.
"You are angry at me."
"Frustration and anger are two different emotions, Emmy. Shit, I don't want to argue with you."
"I don't want to argue with you, either." A tear carved a path down her cheek. "I can't be someone that I'm not, Owen."
"I can't either," I shot back, the pain in my abdomen and heart almost unbearable. That's what made me lash out. "Maybe this isn't going to work."
I heard her indrawn breath. "Are you ending things?"
"I don't know what to do," I confessed, tears burning behind my eyes. "I'm totally blindsided about all of this. A few hours ago, I thought we were happy and falling in love. Now I find out that we're going too fast and you need space. I think I should give it to you. Take all of the time you need."
"That's sounds final."
I was officially done with this conversation. I wanted out of here before I said even more that I would regret later.
"It's whatever you want it to be. If you don't want me, then I wish you all the best in finding someone to love and have a life with. But I will say this, Emmy, it's not fair to jerk me around and then act like you have no idea what I'm talking about. You said you were in and now I find out you're not. You want to talk about being fair? Well, that's not it."
Now I'd made her cry for real. Three cheers for me being a douche. But I couldn't seem to shut up.
"I was in. I do care."
"But now you don't?"
"I just..." She slapped her hand over her mouth and shook her head. "I don't know what to say."
"That makes two of us. If you ever figure it out, give me a call. But I have a feeling I shouldn't bother waiting by the phone."
And because I'm a jerk who liked getting the last word in an argument, I pushed open the door and lumbered down the front steps. I desperately wanted to turn around but I wouldn't let myself. No, no, no. I wouldn't let her know how deeply she'd wounded me. I was shocked that I wasn't covered in blood, it was so real and painful. Emmy had pulled the rug from under me and then shoved in the knife.
I was off to lick my wounds. After that? I had no fucking idea.
Chapter 25
Emmy
After Owen stomped out, I curled up on the couch and cried myself to sleep, feeling more miserable than I could ever remember. I'd messed it all up, and I didn't know what to do to fix it. What he'd said was true, we were happy. I simply couldn't trust that it would continue.
When I woke, my neck and back hurt because I'd folded myself into an origami swan while I slept. It did nothing to better my mood, nor did a scalding cup of coffee that burned my esophagus on the way down. Still dressed in my clothes from last night, I sipped at the bitter liquid, replaying the scene between us.
Getting more pissed off with each passing second.
It had all been a trap. Not that he'd set it on purpose but the resu
lt was the same. He'd placed me neatly in a corner and I was supposed to respond just the way he'd wanted me to.
Fuck him. Just who did he think he was?
My life had been fine and dandy before Owen Campbell and it was going to be just as good after. Hell, it was going to be even better. I didn't need a man, and honestly, I wasn't sure I really wanted one.
First, they were a lot of work. Hygiene-wise. When I'm not dating anyone I can let my legs go unshaved for a few days, especially in the cold weather when I'm always wearing pants. Heck, I might even skip an extra day of not washing my hair and just pull it up into a ponytail.
When you're dating, you can't do that. You have to have freshly shaved legs, pits, and bikini line at all times. You know...just in case.
Second, you now have to think about another person's wants. Let's say I want Chinese takeout but Owen wants Italian. I can't just say fuck you and get Chinese. That would make me a bitch and a bad girlfriend. I have to think about who chose last time and who had the worse day and all of that crap. Basically, who needs this the most?
Or maybe I like eating in bed and watching television but he thinks that the bed is only for sleeping and sex and hates crumbs in the sheets. Do I have to stop eating in bed?
I still didn't know the answer to that one. It was probably yes but I couldn't be sure.
Third, when you're a couple you're supposed to act like a couple. You get invited as a couple and you go as a couple. If he's having a great time at a party and I think it stinks, I might have to stay because I'm part of a couple now. Or vice versa.
It's a bunch of work and I don't know why women everywhere weren't completely exhausted.
Slamming my empty cup into the sink, I stomped into the foyer where I'd left my purse and keys. I needed to see Shelby right away.
Slinging my purse over my shoulder, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror on the wall.
Hair standing almost straight up. Makeup smeared. I looked like a raccoon with mascara under my eyes. Clothes were wrinkled as if I'd slept in them. Which I had.
New plan. A shower and then I'd go see Shelby.
It was time for the new and improved Emmy, and I was ready to have some fun.
Owen
I tossed the folder down onto my desk and growled in frustration. Nothing was right today and everyone had banded together to piss me off.
Carly, who headed up my team of assistants, picked the folder up and waved it in front of my face like a red flag in front of a charging bull.
"What's wrong with it now? You've been like a bear with a sore paw all day. No one wants to come near you. My team practically begged me on their knees not to talk to you. Is this some new management strategy or are you just being an asshole?"
"Maybe I'm just an asshole," I snarled, reaching for a bottle of water and chugging half of it down in one gulp. "Maybe if your team can't take the heat then they should find other jobs."
Dumping the folder and two binders on my desk, Carly whirled on her heel and marched over to my office door to slam it shut before marching back and pointing a finger directly at my chest.
"Sit down."
"I don't–"
"I don't give a shit what you want," she interrupted, her face now red. "Sit the fuck down and then tell me what the hell's your problem."
"I don't–"
"Sit down."
This time her voice had dropped even lower almost sounding demon-like. Carly didn't often lose her temper but I had a feeling I was tiptoeing on the line with her.
So I sat the fuck down in my oversized leather chair and reminded myself why I had it. I was the goddamn boss and if I wanted to be a jerk then I could be. She wasn't going to tell me how to act.
"Carly–"
"I'm talking. You don't get to talk yet. I'll let you know when it's your turn."
"I'm not going to take this–"
"Yes, you are." She shook a finger at me. "You're going to sit there and listen. I don't what crawled up your ass and died last night or this morning but everyone in this office has had it with your attitude today. You're scaring your own employees and they don't have to put up with this crap. You don't get to be a douchebag just because you own the joint."
"Actually, I think I do."
I'd managed to get a word in but Carly was less than pleased.
"Did I say you could talk? No, I did not. So hush your mouth. Your turn will come." She took a deep breath and dropped down into one of my guest chairs. "Now tell me what your problem is or I swear I will quit and you don't even know where we keep the pens in this place."
"I can have pens delivered."
I didn't sound all that sure, though.
Carly was more than willing to call my bluff. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and thumbed the screen. "Fine, I'll call Jake and tell him I'm now a stay at home mom. He's going to be thrilled."
Jake would be, too.
"Don't you dare call Jake," I finally said with a heavy sigh. "I don't want you to quit."
Tucking the phone back in her pocket, Carly smiled triumphantly. "I think you've made a wise choice. Now spill it. Why are you acting like Satan today? And be specific."
Sitting back in the chair, I thought about all that had passed between Emmy and I last night. What we'd said and didn't say. What still needed to be said. And all the things I could have done a hell of a lot better.
"I think Emmy and I might have broken up last night."
"You're not sure?"
"I'm not. We definitely argued and I walked out."
Carly tapped her chin with a pen. "Send flowers, apologize for whatever you did, and then it will all be okay."
Now wait a minute...
"It isn't all my fault," I argued. "She started it. She's the one that said she wanted to slow down."
Her phone chimed in her pocket and she pulled it out, making a face. "I have to pick up Sara from dance practice. Listen, how about you and I go to dinner? Just the two of us. I'll get Jake to watch the kids and then you and I can talk about this. You can tell me the whole story and I'll give you whatever wisdom I may have. If you did break up, I don't want you sitting at home brooding about it. You need to get out and be around people."
It was the last thing I wanted, which made me decide that it was probably what I needed.
"Sounds like a plan. I'll pick you up about seven."
"Deal." She leaned forward and that finger was back, shaking under my nose. "Now go home. Go to the gym. Go for a run. Do something, but don't stay here. You're going to piss off the employees and you don't want them to quit en masse, do you?"
I didn't, although my behavior said something far different.
"I could go to the gym. A workout might make me feel better."
Carly stood and picked up her things. "If you and Emmy did break up, I am sorry. She sounded like she might have been the one."
I'd thought so, too.
Emmy
"We need a girls' night out."
That's what I said to Shelby when she let me into her home an hour later when I looked much more human and less like an extra from “The Walking Dead”.
"Hello to you too, Emmy."
Shelby looked better as well. She'd taken a shower recently and was wearing clean clothes without stains. That was real progress.
Tossing my purse onto a chair, I headed straight for her kitchen. "Do you have coffee made, by any chance?"
"There's half a pot. Help yourself."
I did and enjoyed that first sip of the dark brew. Shelby knew how to make a pot of coffee.
"We need a girls' night out," I repeated, wrapping my hands around the hot mug and leaning a hip against the kitchen counter. The sink was clear of dishes which was a good sign. Shelby had been cleaning. "Are you in?"
Scowling, Shelby topped off her own coffee cup. "Tell me why we need this, because I'd made plans for the foreseeable future to never leave my house unless I was forced to."
I took another sip bef
ore answering.
"I think Owen and I broke up last night."
She blinked once...twice...then a third time.
"Okay then. Did you call Ashlyn?"
"Not yet. Do you think she'd be our designated driver?"
I'd thought I might have to beg and plead to get Shelby to go. This was unexpected.
"You're fine with this? When I say a girls' night out, I mean tonight. Not in a few weeks."
Shelby nodded over the edge of her mug. "I know what you mean."
"And you want to go?"
"No, but you do, and right now I need to think about someone other than myself. I'm so tired of feeling sorry for myself. I'm seriously sick of...me."
"We'll have fun."
"So what happened with Owen?"
I shrugged as if I didn't care. Because I didn't. "The usual. He wanted more than I was ready to give. Blah, blah, blah. I'm already over it."
"That was fast."
"I'm a quick healer."
"Normally I'd ask if you want to talk about it but frankly, I'm not in the mood."
"That makes two of us. Talking doesn't help. Tequila does."
"I couldn't agree more. Should we call Ashlyn?"
"Why don't we just go to her shop and kidnap her? Then she can't say no."
I didn't know exactly what we were going to do but I wanted it to be so much fun that I wouldn't remember any of it the next day. I didn't need Dr. Owen Campbell.
Let the games begin.
Chapter 26
Owen
Carly and I ended up at a bistro in the downtown area. We both ordered our food and let the waitress walk back to the kitchen before digging into the real reason we were there.
"Emmy pulled the rug out from under me," I explained, sipping on an ice-cold glass of beer. "I don't think she believes in love. It's two steps forward and three steps back with her."
"So you told her you loved her?" Carly asked. "And she didn't say it back?"
Touch Him (ManTrap Book 3) Page 18
