“Hi,” she called out. “You must be Emily!”
“Hello,” I responded, smiling politely and holding out my hand. Angie didn’t take it. Instead she pulled me into a tight hug. “I’m so glad to meet you,” she whispered in my ear. “We’ve been waiting for Greg to find someone like you for ages!”
A bit caught off guard, I did my best to smile at her as I pulled back. “We’re going to have such a great time this afternoon,” she said, putting her arm around me and smiling at the guys. “Though I have to say, I’m a little angry they won’t let us play a round with them.”
Greg smiled at her. “Emily doesn’t golf,” he said. “But maybe next time.”
“You don’t?” Angie looked at me with an almost comical mixture of shock and pity. “But you really must learn. You’ll love it! And it’s such a good way to stay active.”
“Emily’s very athletic,” Greg assured her. “Once I get her started, I’m sure she’ll pick up the game in no time.”
“Then there’s hope yet,” Angie said, squeezing my shoulders a little. “Until then, we’ll have to satisfy ourselves with the spa.”
“Sounds good to me,” I said, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention.
“Though I have to tell you,” Angie said, pulling me along to the doorway and whispering conspiratorially in my ear. “The spa isn’t quite up to standards. I had a peek when I went to make our reservations. I do hope you won’t be disappointed.”
“I’m sure it will be just fine.”
“I guess we should all head up to change,” Greg said, taking my hand and pulling me away from Angie. “Should we meet back here in fifteen?”
“Great,” Tom said, taking his wife’s hand. It was only then that I realized Greg had never introduced me to his colleague. It struck me as a little odd, but I didn’t have time to think about it much, with Angie squeezing my other hand and telling me that she couldn’t wait for our afternoon to start.
* * *
“She seems, uh, nice,” I said to Greg as we walked up the steps toward our room.
“I told you you’d hit it off,” he said.
I wasn’t exactly sure I would qualify five minutes of completely one-sided conversation as hitting it off, but I didn’t belabor the point. I had something else on my mind. “Why do we need to change?”
Greg looked at me with a strange expression on his face. “What do you mean?”
“Well, what am I supposed to put on?” I asked, looking down at the Donna Karan khaki Capri pants and Michael Kors navy boat-neck tank I was wearing. When I had gotten dressed that morning, Greg had frowned at me and said something was missing. He dug around in my bag until he pulled out a white and navy striped cashmere sweater, which was now wrapped around my shoulders in a way I was sure would make Brooke shake her head in disgust.
“You can’t go to the spa in that,” Greg said now, an almost incredulous tone in his voice. “And do you expect me to go golfing in this?”
I looked him over. To be honest, he was wearing the kind of outfit I totally imagined a golfer to wear, but I didn’t say so. Clearly I had no idea what appropriate fashion was for a situation like this.
Back in our room, Greg took off his sport coat and carefully hung it in the closet. Then he turned to me. “Okay, spa wear.” He walked over to my dresser and pulled open the second drawer. “I usually see the women in something like this.” He pulled out a white cashmere sweater and laid it on the bed. Next came a matching pair of lounge pants. It had seemed strange to me when he insisted I buy it the other day. Why would I dress up so much for lounging around? Now I got it.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling slightly stupid that I needed my boyfriend to pick out my clothes for me.
“No problem,” he said, kissing the top of my head as he walked by. For some reason, the act made me feel ever so slightly worse.
Greg pulled off his sweater, and the sight of his chest beneath his Ralph Lauren undershirt momentarily distracted me. He really was a beautiful man. I turned to the outfit he laid out and began to dress, pulling my own sweater off and reaching for the button on my capris.
“You’re so beautiful,” Greg said, coming up behind me and wrapping his arms around me. “I wish we had an hour to just stay in this room.”
“We could always be late,” I said, turning around in his arms so I was facing him. I smiled up at him and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I wouldn’t mind a little alone time with you myself.”
Greg smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Unfortunately, we need to get going.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, pressing up against him. “They can wait a few minutes.”
Greg’s face seemed to tighten a little, and he released me. “We won’t be rude.”
My embarrassment returned full force as he turned away and continued getting dressed. I felt silly and rejected, standing there in only my bra and capris. I quickly picked up the cream sweater and pulled it on. Once I had changed my pants, I headed to the closet to find some shoes.
“Probably sandals would be best,” Greg called from the bed, where he was putting his golf shoes into a shoe bag. “You might get a pedicure. And maybe your hair in a ponytail?”
I looked over at him, the urge to tell him to go screw himself practically overwhelming me. Did he have to treat me like a child?
“Perfect,” he said, once I was ready. He looked me over and smiled before coming toward me and taking my hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss it gently. “What a lucky man I am to have you on my arm.”
I tried to smile, but the action felt wooden. As he led me out of the room, all I could think was that this weekend wasn’t turning out at all how I thought it would.
* * *
After a few hours in the spa, my mood improved considerably. I had never felt so pampered in all my life. I had some kind of body scrub treatment done, before being all wrapped up in a mud and seaweed wrap. My skin felt amazing afterward, so smooth and soft I could hardly believe it was my own. After that, a nice woman named Denise came in to give me a hot stone massage. As she pressed the hot stones firmly into my muscles, I decided I could learn to like this kind of lifestyle just fine.
The other nice thing about the treatments was that they were done in a private room. Which meant no Angie. It wasn’t that she wasn’t pleasant, or anything like that. It was just that she was kind of…stupid. I know that sounds mean, but there was just no other way to describe her. I was used to celebrity gossip from Ryan and Ashley, but man, Angie took it to a new level. During our pedicures, she prattled on and on about Jennifer Garner and Ben Affleck and the new baby they were about to have. To hear her talk, you’d think she knew them both personally.
When I finally managed to get a word in, I asked her what she did for work, thinking maybe a more serious topic would make her more relatable to me. Instead, she stared at me as if she thought I was joking. “Work?” she asked. “I haven’t worked since Tom and I got engaged.”
“Oh,” I said, not sure what to say to that. My own mom hadn’t worked when I was little, choosing to stay home with me and take care of the house. I had a feeling though, looking at Angie, that she didn’t take care of too much at all.
“I stay busy, of course,” she said. “Don’t think you have a life of boredom to look forward to when it’s your turn!”
“My turn?”
“With Greg!” she said, as if I should know exactly what she was talking about. “When you guys get married!”
“Oh!” I was caught off guard. “Greg and I…well, we only just started dating.”
“Sweetie,” she said, giving me an even look. “I have known Greg for two years now, and I can assure you he’s never been this way with any other girl. He’s rarely brought anyone to a work function before, let alone planned a weekend away like this, with such close friends. This is his way of telling you he’s comfortable with you in his inner circle. He’s crazy about you.”
She smiled at me, the look on her
face clearly indicating that I should consider myself immeasurably lucky. Instead, I felt something akin to terror.
This is too fast, I thought, over and over again. Too fast. I thought it as Angie talked about the cast of Jersey Shore for a solid fifteen minutes as we got French manicures. Do I even want this? I wondered as I returned to the room and took a long, hot bath before Greg came back. Too fast, I thought again as I blew my hair perfectly straight, the way Greg liked it, and got dressed in the clothes he suggested I wear for dinner. This isn’t right, I thought, as I watched him pull a small blue box out of his suit pocket and approach me.
“I wanted you to have something, so you know how much I care about you,” he said softly.
“Greg,” I stammered, feeling the sudden urge to bolt from the room.
“Wait,” he said, taking my hand. “Let me finish.” He stared intently into my eyes, his handsome face close to mine. “I know we’ve only been seeing each other for a short time. But I also know how I feel. You’re an amazing woman, everything I ever dreamed of. I’ve fallen for you, Emily Donovan.”
He smiled, a little sadly. “My mother used to always say that when you care for a woman, you should give her something special, something that will last, to prove to her that you’ll always be around.” His gaze seemed to bore into mine. “You remind me of her so much. You have no idea.” Greg opened the box, and I immediately recognized the diamond bracelet Chris and I had seen at Tiffany’s. Holy shit.
“Please accept this from me,” he said, his face open and eager. “It would mean so much for me to see you wear it.”
“I can’t,” I whispered, staring at the bracelet. “It’s too much, Greg. It’s way too much.”
“No,” he said, placing his thumb gently over my lips. “It’s nothing compared to you. Ever since our first date, I’ve been hearing my mom’s words in my head, every time I look at you. It’s like she’s talking to me, Emily.” He smiled sheepishly. “You probably think that sounds crazy, but it’s true. It’s like she’s been telling me to show you, to prove to you that I care.”
“Greg,” I said, not knowing what to say. How could I argue with that? How could I tell him he was wrong? How could I refuse a man who was so good to me, who clearly cared for me so much? I wondered what my mother would try to tell me, if she were here right now. Would she tell me to refuse his gift, to make him feel terrible and unappreciated? Of course not—my mother put kindness and appreciation above all else.
Suddenly, all of my complaints and worries of the last few days seemed incredibly petty and childish. This wasn’t some stupid high-school romance where everything had to go the way I wanted it. This was a serious, grown-up relationship. And Greg was perfect; anyone would have to see that. What had I been thinking?
“Thank you,” I whispered, looking up at him with tears in my eyes. “It’s beautiful.”
Chapter Nineteen
The following Friday, I bustled around the office, trying to get my paperwork done so I could go home for the weekend. I was feeling disproportionately excited about my evening plans. I had arranged for a rare night out with my friends in celebration of Ashley’s birthday. I felt as if I had been neglecting them, what with all the time I had been spending with Greg, and I really missed them. The idea of going somewhere casual and being able to wear a ratty old pair of jeans—or maybe even yoga pants!—sounded so good I almost wanted to cry.
Greg, however, was not quite so pleased when I told him. We were heading home from dinner on Thursday night when I mentioned it. Since we hadn’t made set plans, I figured he wouldn’t mind much. I was wrong.
“I had tickets for us to attend the symphony.” He frowned. “Several of my work colleagues will be there with their wives.” I felt a flash of irritation that he hadn’t even asked, that he just assumed I would be free, but I tamped it down.
“I’m very sorry,” I said. “But I haven’t really seen my friends in ages. And Ashley’s birthday is this weekend. I really need to spend some time with them.”
Greg didn’t respond, just stared out the windshield, the frown never leaving his face.
“I really am sorry,” I said, once we had pulled up to my apartment building. I waited for him to respond or, at the very least, turn off the car so he could walk me up. After a moment, it dawned on me that he had no intention of doing so. Since our first date, I didn’t think there had been a single instance where he hadn’t walked me safely to my door. He must be really pissed.
For a second, I considered changing my mind and telling him that I would go after all. I was sure Ashley wouldn’t mind too much. But something in me refused to back down. Why shouldn’t I spend time with my friends?
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” I finally said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. Greg still didn’t respond, staring stonily ahead. Suddenly, I wanted to laugh. It was so childish, the way he was acting. But I managed to control myself, instead getting out of the car without another word.
* * *
“Hot date tonight?”
I looked up to see Elliot standing in the doorway, his appearance snapping my thoughts away from the tense memories of the night before. It had been ages since he had been by, and I suddenly realized how much I missed our lunches.
“Hey!” I said, grinning at him. “How are you?”
“Not bad.” He leaned against the doorway. “So, what’s the rush?”
“Just want to get out of here,” I said, shoving the last file into the cabinet. “It’s Ashley’s birthday tonight, and we’re going out to dinner.”
“That sounds nice. Where you eating?”
“Royal Oak Brewery.”
Elliot closed his eyes and whimpered. “They have deep fried Twinkies there.”
I laughed. “That they do. One of the best features of that place. That and the beer.”
“Well, have fun.” Elliot opened his eyes and smiled at me. “I’m totally jealous, by the way.”
“You should come,” I said impulsively. “There’s gonna be a big group of us. Michael and Sarah are coming, too. It should be pretty fun.”
“Yeah?” he asked, his face lighting up a little. “I might take you up on that. I didn’t have plans tonight.” He paused for a moment. “So, uh, will I finally get to meet the famous Greg?”
I shook my head. “Nope. He has a work thing. It’s just me and my friends tonight.”
“Well, I am honored to be considered in that category.” Elliot winked at me. “What time?”
“Eight.”
“Sounds good.” He grinned, and it struck me again how much I had missed seeing him. “I’ll see you there.”
I grinned back. “I’m glad to hear it.”
* * *
By eight thirty, I was well on my way to being drunk. I hadn’t had much more than a glass or two of wine with dinner for the past month and a half. It was almost like I had forgotten how much I loved beer. The atmosphere of the Royal Oak Brewery was great, very relaxed and fun. With all of my friends there, and good food on the menu, I was feeling practically giddy.
“You’re happy tonight,” Ryan said, bumping my shoulder with his. “You must be in love.”
I frowned a little. For some reason, I had no desire to talk about Greg that night. “I’m happy to see you,” I told him. “I miss the crap out of you. Tell me what’s new and exciting in the world of Ryan West.”
Ryan snorted. “It’s majorly exciting, let me tell you. Let’s see. I go to work. I come home. I have no man waiting for me. I go out. I meet men. I fail to convince them to come home with me. They really should make a movie about me.”
I giggled and leaned into him. “Oh, Ryan. One day you will meet the most perfect, wonderful guy, and he will fall head over heels in love with you.”
“Yeah, that will be the day.”
“I wasn’t finished,” I said, holding up my hand. “After he falls for you, you will dismiss him for not dressing well enough, or something equally stupid.”
“Some pep tal
k!” Ryan shoved me away from his shoulder, but he was smiling.
“You know I’m right,” I said. “You are way too picky for your own good. And you always seek out the totally wrong guy. You go after the slick, shallow ones just ’cause they’re cute. Who knows what you might be missing.”
“Oh God.” Ryan sighed dramatically. “I’ve created a monster. Listen to you giving dating advice.”
I laughed. “I just call it like I see it, buddy.”
“How is the hot man?” Ryan asked. “You changed the subject before.”
“He’s good. Busy, of course.”
Ryan looked at me closely. “You know, Chris said something last week, while you were away on your trip. I think he’s worried about you.”
I sighed. Since Greg had given me the bracelet, I had managed to put all those pesky doubts out of my head. But now, in the company of some of my oldest and best friends, I could feel them rearing up again.
“I just don’t know,” I said. “Sometimes I wonder if Greg really knows me, or if he wants me to be someone else. But then he goes and does something completely sweet and wonderful, and I feel like I’m being stupid.” I thought about the bracelet, hidden in my jewelry box. For some reason, I hadn’t wanted to show it to anyone just yet.
“Have you told him any of this?” Ryan asked.
“No,” I said, watching Elliot and Sarah across the table. Elliot was telling her some story, probably about hiking or something, and she was laughing her head off. “I just don’t know how to bring it up without sounding stupid.”
“Maybe you don’t have to make a big deal about it,” Ryan said. “Why don’t you just casually drop hints about stuff you like? Or invite him to go do something you want to do.”
I smiled at him, a little surprised. “That’s exactly what Brooke said.”
“Smart girl. Why didn’t you do it?”
In Search of a Love Story (Love Story Book One ) Page 15
