by S. A. Wolfe
“How about boyfriend hell,” Imogene adds loudly.
“Come on, it’s not that bad.” Cooper rubs her back and Imogene gives him a murderous glare.
“Don’t get her started. Please,” Lauren says.
“Carson, is the bread on the table?” Jess asks from the kitchen.
“Yes, I think so,” he responds.
We all look around at the table that is definitely breadless.
Dylan shakes his head. “They are imbeciles in the kitchen.”
“Be nice.” Lois slaps his hand.
“Take the brown dish out to the table,” Jess instructs Carson.
“Oh good, the brown stuff is coming,” Imogene deadpans. “You know it’s a good dinner party when they bring out the brown stuff.”
Cooper laughs and gives her an adorable smile, but Imogene will have none of that. She groans and turns to Lauren on her right side just to avoid Cooper.
“Oh, my, maybe you girls should go in and help them,” Archie voices, getting up to re-fill everyone’s wine glasses.
“Hell no, I’m off duty,” Imogene responds.
“Here’s something,” Carson says, coming into the dining room holding a large Dutch oven with potholders. “It’s meat. I think.” He looks around the table. “Jess, there’s no bread out here and they don’t even have plates!”
When Dylan covers his laugh with a hand, I admire his boyish smile. I like this side of him.
“I’ll help you, honey,” Eleanor says and leaves with Carson.
“Thankfully, we have wine,” Archie smiles.
Eleanor returns with a stack of plates and Carson has another hot casserole dish of food.
“Oh, good, now we’ve got green stuff to go with the brown stuff,” Imogene remarks.
“Come on, everyone, start digging in or Jess is going to cry,” Carson stresses. “You don’t know what it’s like to work with her in a kitchen. I’d rather pour concrete foundations all day than spend ten minutes in that kitchen with her.”
I have never seen my rough and tumble boss unravel. It is rather amusing and sweet to see him out of the office, entertaining dinner guests.
“I think that’s a Beef bourguignon thing,” he explains. “And that’s some kind of squash or spinach dish. I don’t know. Talia wrote out the whole menu, but Jess is just bossing me around in there like she’s Gordon Ramsay, and I really don’t think she knows what she’s doing.”
“I’ll get the food moving along,” Leo volunteers and stands up to serve everyone.
“Good, there’s more coming,” Carson says.
“Yay. A color-coded dinner,” Imogene waves her hands.
“Just be glad we got our pies from the diner, I don’t think we can screw that up.” Carson flips a dishtowel over his shoulder and returns to the kitchen.
“This is awesome,” Cooper says, shoveling a forkful of beef into his mouth.
“It should be. Talia is a great cook,” Dylan responds.
As Jess and Carson return with another hot dish, bread and a salad, they look exhausted. Meanwhile, Dylan is scooping every vegetarian item onto my plate like I am a kid who can’t serve herself.
“I was supposed to serve this in courses, but I decided it would be easier to have it all at once, family style,” Jess says apologetically as she sits next to Lauren.
“Next time we’re doing hot dogs,” Carson declares as he sits down.
“Deal.” Jess smiles at him and they laugh.
“This is lovely, Jess.” Lois takes a dainty bite and nudges Leo to say something.
“Very good. Really,” he states, stabbing a green vegetable and inspecting it before shoving it in his mouth.
Carson wipes his brow with his napkin as if these adventures in cooking with his wife are tumultuous endeavors.
Everyone gives them accolades on the fine food, and it is quite good. I imagine Dylan could cook the same meal without much effort. I can’t remember ever having a boyfriend who could cook really well.
I listen to the conversations around the table and enjoy the hominess of the company, yet my attention is completely centered on Dylan. We are separated by the broad width of table, so I speak mostly with Archie and Cooper while Dylan sneaks glances at me in between his interrogation from Lois. She wants to know when he is going to start attending the local social events again. He gives noncommittal responses, and I assume this has been his habit with everyone over the last few months.
After dinner, when everyone moves to the living room for coffee and pie, I use the opportunity to walk around the house and check out the art. There is a passageway with a cascading wall of water. With the low lighting, it’s like a private, quiet sanctuary with the soothing sounds of trickling water.
“There you are,” Dylan says, coming from behind me. He wraps his arms around me and kisses my cheek.
“This waterfall is so cool.”
“Yeah, it’s part of the gray water system Carson uses throughout the house.”
“Gray water?”
“It’s recycled water that’s used for non-drinking purposes. This is my favorite spot in the house. I think of this passageway as the cone of silence. It’s where people come to hide or talk in private. So are you hiding or did you want to talk?” He smiles and turns me around to face him.
“I wasn’t hiding, just exploring. It’s nice being in the house of a normal couple with a normal marriage.”
Dylan chuckles. “I don’t know if Jess and Carson could be classified as normal. They’re weird in their own way.”
“You know what I mean. It’s not a dinner party with creepy men negotiating seedy deals, and no one has to turn in their gun at the front door.”
“Ah, yeah.” Dylan’s smile fades. “You okay with all of this?”
“Being here with everyone else? Of course. Why?”
“You were pretty upset about Robert. I didn’t know if you were still obsessing about him today.”
“I am concerned about him, but I didn’t think about him during dinner. This was really a nice evening. I’m glad we did this. I used to imagine marrying Rob…” I stop myself. I can’t believe I blurted that out. Dylan doesn’t want to hear about my old fantasies about marrying Robert.
“Were you two planning on getting married?” he asks, looking disappointed.
“We would mention it, but it wasn’t on any formal agenda. It wasn’t anything in our immediate future. Carson and Jess look really happy.”
“Despite their discomfort with kitchen appliances, yeah, they are very happy.” He keeps his hands on my waist. This conversation could become uncomfortable if we keep talking about the topic of marriage.
A painting on the wall across from the waterfall catches my eye. I realize it is a portrait of Carson and Dylan. The artist has captured them smiling in some sort of brotherly headlock.
“I like that. You two look so sweet together.”
“Sweet?” Dylan scoffs. “Jess did that last year as a gift for Carson. It was right after my accident. I was partying it up at Carson’s annual holiday party he throws for his employees and half the town.”
“Sounds fun. Especially in this house.”
“You’ll see it for yourself,” Dylan replies, capturing my chin and turning it back to him.
As he kisses me with an immediate fierceness, his tongue tastes like chocolate, and as his warm body presses against me, my body responds. Hell, yes. His tongue parries playfully with mine before pulling me in tighter to devour me. I forget about the room full of other people and get swept up in an aphrodisiac of Dylan.
“Do you think about him when you kiss me?” he asks once we pry our lips apart.
It takes me a few seconds to realize he is referring to Robert.
“God, no, never when you’re—”
“What? When I’m what?”
“When you’re… with me,” I say, fumbling for the right words.
“Does being in
this nice house make you think about what you could have had with a rich guy like Robert?” Dylan is a little defensive; it’s apparent he isn’t comfortable about asking such questions.
“No, Dylan. Being in this house makes me think about the people who have nice marriages. Robert isn’t in the mix.”
“Good. I just want to make sure you’re not still daydreaming about him.”
“Gee, thanks.” I am a little offended that he thinks I can sleep with him, live with him and kiss him like that and still have romantic ideas about another man. “You must not think I’m very bright.” I try to brush past him and leave, however he grabs my arm and pulls me back to him.
“Wrong. I think you’re incredibly intelligent, and I also think you’re very sentimental and you want to help someone who doesn’t deserve your help. I want to know that, when you’re with me, you want to be with me, and you’re thinking only of me.”
“Wow. Me, me, me. You certainly don’t have an ego problem.”
Dylan puts his head down and smiles. “I do have problems, and my ego wasn’t necessarily in the best place. But it is now, and I do know what I can and cannot tolerate. You’re a smart woman, and you should expect the same for yourself.”
“You’re right. I’d be pretty pissed off if you were talking about a former girlfriend as much as I have deliberated over Mr. You-Know-Who.”
“So, you would be jealous?” He smirks.
Oh, big shits. Sure, I gave myself away on that one.
“Yes,” I come clean.
“Let’s go home. I want to go to bed.”
“You should be tired after all that absurd exercising and three helpings of everything at dinner and two slices of pie. That was hard to miss.”
“I want to go to bed. I didn’t say I want to sleep.” He takes my hand and leads me back to the living room to say our goodbyes, but Lauren blocks us.
“So, are you done with Robert?” she asks. She has never understood Robert’s appeal to women. She has always been attracted to the nerdy, quiet types like Leo.
“I think so,” I mutter. This isn’t the time or place to discuss my ex-boyfriend and the gossipy stories about his family.
“She’s handling it,” Dylan addresses Lauren while giving me a pointed look.
Lauren says something derogatory about Robert, and as Dylan listens, my gaze wanders over to the dining room where I have a partial view of Jess and Carson. I feel like a peeping Tom on their private moment. Carson pulls her into a big bear hug and she looks delighted as she throws her head back and smiles up at him. Then they fall into a long, passionate kiss. They look so ecstatic to be in each other’s company. I have never witnessed a happy marriage like theirs.
I continue to watch them out of the corner of my eye as Lauren mentions Robert with derision about being too showy and extravagant with money and how he treated me like a little queen.
“Lauren, that’s enough,” I say.
“Emma, she cares about you and doesn’t want to see you get hurt by all of this again.”
Dylan likes having other members on his team, and I admit he plays the boyfriend role well. It would be easy to believe that everything is peachy keen and he is mine and I am his and Robert is history. A clean break with my past sounds ideal, and yet, impossible.
Lauren is about to rub Dylan’s head when Leo gently takes her hand in his and kisses it.
“It’s true, Em. You’ve got a great job and a nice guy.” Lauren raises her eyebrows at Dylan, who puts a hand to his heart.
“This is a first,” he says. “Lauren is paying me a compliment?”
“Dylan, I have always been your biggest fan.”
“And one of my biggest critics,” he reminds her.
“You deserved it. Don’t screw this up.” Lauren likes a good argument, so I stay out of this.
Imogene joins us and gives me a side hug. “My sister,” she says, referring to our college days when people thought we were related because we have the same dark features, but the similarities stop there. Imogene is voluptuous everywhere; she can pull off any size because she’s a walking sex bomb.
“Let’s help Jess carry the rest of the dishes to the kitchen,” Imogene says, sounding less bitter than her earlier diatribe. Perhaps Cooper’s company has warmed her up a bit.
Dylan shakes his head at me and then nods towards the door. Sure, I would like to leave now, go home and get naked with him, however since this is my first social event, it would be in bad form to depart without assisting the hostess.
Before I leave to help, he bends down close to my ear. “Make it fast; we need to go home.”
I help collect coffee cups, dessert plates and stray wine glasses, carrying them to the kitchen where Jess, Imogene and Lauren are picking at leftover pie with their fingers.
“How do you like working at the design shop?” Jess asks me. Her face is still rosy from her romantic encounter with Carson. I envy her assuredness that this is what she wants, and that she has this life at such a young age.
“I like it a lot. Your husband is a great boss, and he’s given me some very nice accounts. Everyone there is very easy to work with. I feel lucky to have gotten the job.”
“We won’t mention my missing guy,” Imogene says.
“Jeremy needs time to settle there and then he’ll probably ask you to come out or…” Jess’s voice trails off.
How does any woman take it when a guy takes off without making any plans for the future with her?
“Don’t even try, Jess,” Lauren says. “I’ve gone through every possibility, but Imogene is sure he’s dumping her.”
“No, I’m pretty sure he’s already dumped me.”
“Cooper is a cutie,” Lauren adds.
Imogene pretends not to hear and gives up using her fingers and starts digging into a pie with a fork.
“Yeah,” Jess agrees. “Cooper is a hottie, Imogene.”
“Cooper isn’t my type and I don’t know if I like him. He’s too cocky or something,” Imogene replies, shaking her head. “I bet he has a tattoo on his ass that says ‘Mom’ or something equally lame.”
We all laugh at Imogene’s snarkiness.
“He’s been pretty nice to me,” I say without going into further details about our impromptu meeting with Robert where Cooper played a pretty badass bodyguard.
“You’ve got Dylan, and boy, he sure has surprised all of us. He’s really got his shit together,” Lauren says. “I’ve never seen him like this. I don’t care how cool he thinks he’s playing this, he’s totally crazy about you. And I don’t mean crazy like last summer when he and Jess went out.”
Jess rolls her eyes and laughs. My heart thuds as if it is skidding clumsily instead of beating, and fear rips right through me. I have no idea what they are talking about, but those remarks are enough that I think I am going to be sick.
“Dylan is very different now,” Jess says, smiling at me. “He is smitten with you. Carson told me all about it, and seeing him tonight… Dylan looks so healthy and happy.”
My face must be frozen. I can’t speak. I want to run out of the room, out of the house. I want to go home, but I don’t even have my own home. And Dylan? I am his next woman in a long line of them. I suspected as much, but I didn’t know I came after Jess. They are all smiling at me knowingly, like we have shared a beautiful bonding moment.
“I have to go, excuse me,” I say, leaving the kitchen.
I storm into the living room and interrupt Dylan and Carson. “We have to go,” I say, my voice trembling.
Dylan’s jovial demeanor with his brother darkens. “Sure, no problem.” As he takes my hand firmly in his and escorts me to the door, I mumble my goodbyes to people without actually looking at them.
Outside, the cool spring air slaps my face. That cozy little dinner soiree was a cruel joke. I try to fill my lungs with as much air as possible to stave off my instinct to cry or punch Dylan.
“What’s
wrong?” Dylan questions as he opens the Jeep door for me.
I get in and put on my seat belt, brushing aside his hands that try to help. “Just drive me to the house. I need to sleep.”
“Sleep?” Dylan chuckles as if he is reviving our earlier plans.
He gets in the Jeep and starts the engine. Before putting it in gear, he gives me a worrisome look. “I thought you were having a good time in there. What happened?”
“What happened?” I snap. “I found out you haven’t been honest with me. I looked like a fool in there. I feel like a fool. Goddamn you!”
Nineteen
Dylan
“Drive already! I want to go home. My fake, temporary home!” she screams at me with her chin held high. Her eyes are wide with anger and fear, and it triggers queasiness—a dull, sick pain in my gut.
“Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about?” I yell as I maneuver the Jeep down Carson’s driveway and through the dark wooded area then over the bridge from my infamous accident.
“I’m too angry at you to talk.”
“If I’m being accused of something, I have a right to know what it is!”
I shift into high gear and speed us home. Emma is silent and stares out the window, so I can’t see the tears trickling down her cheeks, though their reflection in the window glistens in the moonlight, and I hear her wet sniffles.
When I park in front of the house, she jumps out of the vehicle and races up to the door to let herself in before I can reach her.
I bound up the stairs two at a time and then pound my fist on her bedroom door.
“Emma, you have to tell me what this is about. You can’t just flip out on me and run away. You have to talk to me.”
My hands are braced on the door and I am trying to sound as calm as possible. I have a tremendous urge to kick down the door to get close to her, yet that would be something the old me would do, and I can’t afford to slip back into that guy for one second.
“Emma,” I say in a softer tone. “Please.”
I wait quietly and then there’s a click as she unlocks the door before coming out into the hallway. Her movements are rigid as she gives herself a wide berth, stepping around me. This is not the girl I kissed in my favorite hidden passageway back at Carson’s house. Anger is brewing in her eyes, a sure sign that I’ve fucked up even if I have no idea what I’ve done.
