by C. R. Ellis
“Sorry. Apparently it’s a big deal when you, Lance, and Damon go anywhere together. Those two I get; they’re hot. But you? Bleh.”
This was what I missed most about Hope—the easy back-and-forth jokes and sibling love we shared.
“Hey, you do realize you’re insulting yourself, too, right? We could pass for twins.” The thought came out before I processed it.
“Okay, fine. You are the best looking guy in all of Boston then. Happy now?”
“Better. Actually, that’s sort of why I’m calling. You haven’t been contacted by a reporter named Curtis Long, have you?” I asked.
“No, why?”
I gave Hope a brief recap of the shitty turn my evening took, and she listened intently, letting me finish before proposing possibly the worst idea I’d ever heard.
“Maybe we should do it, Emmett. If William flew all the way there, it’s obviously something he’s worried about. If we talk to this guy, at least we could set the record straight, control the narrative. I just looked up Curtis Long, and he’s the real deal. He doesn’t seem like the type to back down from a good story.”
“Hope, no. I can’t let you give up your anonymity. Plus, you have Caroline to think about, and I know Colby will back me up. I’ll find a way to kill the story.”
She sighed. “Promise me you’ll at least consider it if this guy refuses to back off.”
I hated even thinking about the possibility of this story seeing the light of day, but I supposed a senator’s illegitimate lovechild was newsworthy.
“Emmett?” she asked after I failed to respond.
“Yeah, I’m here. As much as I’d love to see his reputation take a hit, it’s not worth it. I’ll find a different story for this guy. I’ll fabricate one if I need to. This isn’t going to happen, Hope.”
Our back and forth continued for a while longer, neither of us willing to compromise. Eventually, we agreed to see how things played out for now and deal with Long when and if the time came. Hope was frustratingly blasé about the fact our father would undoubtedly follow through with his threat if she agreed to help Long in any way. She brushed off my concern, saying I worried too much and pointing out that doing anything suspicious to her would ruin his reputation far more than the truth about her coming to light.
She wasn’t wrong.
But I’d learned the hard way that William Sinclair either found a way to get you to do what he wanted or found a way to make you pay for going against him.
Chapter 10
Jade
It’s funny how time works. Twelve days ago I wanted nothing more than for time to turn into molasses and slip by at a sluggish rate so I could hold on to each minute I shared with Emmett. Today, I had watched the clock like it was my job, begging to fast forward to a future when the memory of what we shared, when the prospect of what could’ve been, wasn’t so prominent and soul-crushingly fresh in my mind.
At first, I didn’t measure time without Emmett in minutes or hours; I measured it in lost kisses and by the hollowness growing under my skin from where he’d branded me with his touch. In the what ifs and the gradual transition of my sunburn into a tan.
Eventually, I realized I needed to get a grip on reality. I couldn’t wait around for a man I hardly knew to decide he was willing to tell me everything he’d buried under layer after layer of bullshit excuses.
Unfortunately, accepting reality did not mean my memory was wiped clean. Traces of what Emmett and I shared were etched into my brain, rendering me powerless to their spell.
I didn’t cry or stalk him online like a part of me was dying to do. I was just numb. I didn’t know what to think. He told me he’d explain everything but hadn’t given me a timetable or a way to get in touch with him. I was in limbo, completely at the mercy of whatever demons were haunting Emmett and convincing him he couldn’t pursue any chance at finding happiness.
When I walked back into the office, Elliot was sitting at her desk in the lobby of our office space, studying her computer screen. She nearly jumped out of her chair when she saw me come in, and her mischievous grin immediately had me arching a brow in question. Elliot’s upbeat personality was usually something I loved about her, but I couldn’t summon the patience for unwavering optimism today.
“Jade! Why didn’t you tell me there was a new man in your life?” Elliot squealed at a ridiculously high decibel. She was still in the honeymoon phase of her relationship, which turned her into a hopeless romantic.
“Because there isn’t.”
“Then how do you explain these gorgeous flowers?” She motioned to a vase on her desk.
“Uhh…I don’t,” I replied as she picked up the vase of red and white roses and extended them toward me. “They’re probably for Jas.”
I kept a look of apathy firmly painted on my face, but internally I was dying to run to Elliot and rip the card open.
Maybe…
Nope. Do not even go there.
Elliot’s head shook back and forth. “I checked. She dumped Henry yesterday. I know Jas has men tripping over themselves to be with her, but one day is a little soon for there to be another one.”
I frowned. Why didn’t I know this?
My heels clicked against the tile as I meandered toward Elliot at a torturous pace. When I finally reached her desk, Elliot slid the flowers toward me with an eager smile. I eyed the flowers like they were poisonous mushrooms instead of roses, then took the vase with unsteady hands, wishing my stomach felt less queasy. I sucked in a breath and pulled the card out.
Soon.
Soon?
What the hell?
My grip on the card tightened until it was crinkled beyond repair. If I thought it odd Emmett would send me roses after I’d mentioned peonies were my favorite after seeing them on the yacht, the thought vanished as soon as I read the card. What did ‘soon’ even mean? If he wanted to tell me everything, why wait two weeks to send such a vague message? Why couldn’t he just talk to me like a normal person? Our relationship had been unconventional since the moment we met, which I kind of liked. But there was only so much mystique and evasiveness a girl could take.
Elliot frowned, clearly confused by my reaction. “Well?”
I shook my head dismissively and sucked in a calming breath. “You can have the flowers if you want, El. I’m going to New York tomorrow, anyway. Plus, you know I’m not a fan of roses.”
She gaped at me like I’d just told her I wanted to drop everything and join a cult to worship bikini-wearing guinea pigs. “If you’re sure…” she trailed off.
“I am.”
I pushed the vase toward her side of the desk and turned to walk down the hall without elaborating. I felt a little guilty for leaving Elliot and Jas in the dark, but I wasn’t even sure what to say to them about Emmett.
“I had one of, if not the, greatest days of my life with a man more difficult to decipher than quantum mechanics.”
“Turns out spending one day with Emmett has ruined me for any kind of future involving other blonde, blue eyed men.”
“The way Emmett saw me, I mean really saw me, and brought out parts of me I’d never known could exist was just as intimate as the mind-boggling sex.”
Or there were the half-truths I’d been clinging to for the last two weeks.
“It was one day, of course I didn’t do something stupid like imagine a future with him, no matter how strongly my heart begged me to.”
“He lives in Boston, so we never would’ve worked anyway.”
“I knew what I was getting myself into before going, so I’ve only got myself to blame for the way things turned out.”
The problem was, I wasn’t even sure what was true anymore or how I’d gotten myself into this mess in the first place.
I rapped on Jasmine’s door before poking my head in to let her know I was back and ready to leave for our weekly dinner at my parents’ house. She requested five minutes to wrap things up, so I took the time to double check I’d left everything
in its place for Elliot and Jas to find while I was in New York. I would be traveling with my client, Nicole, and the trip was only for three days, but I needed to make sure my files and contracts were easily accessible in case anything came up.
I didn’t usually take trips like this, but Nicole had become a friend over the last two months, so I was happy to go along for the dress hunt. Plus, when someone offers to fly you to New York City on a private jet, you say yes. And I was always happy for an opportunity to see Dean, even though he worked nonstop, and I’d be lucky to squeeze in a meal with him.
Jasmine emerged from her office, mumbling obscenities about vendors not understanding how contracts work. After a final sweep of my desk, I was ready to head out.
Unless one of us had a morning meeting, Jasmine and I usually rode together out to my parents’ house for these dinners. My parents lived on fifteen acres of land about twenty minutes northwest of the city – close enough to make these weekly dinners doable.
“So—”
“When were—”
Jasmine and I both tried to break the silence simultaneously.
We both chuckled lightly, then waited for the other to continue.
“What happened with Henry?” I finally asked.
She shrugged dismissively, looking bored with the topic already. Typical Jasmine. “He was fun, but four weeks is about two weeks too many for me. You know I’m restless when it comes to my sex life. I can’t be tied down to one dick for long, JP. Unless it’s a pierced dick. I’m totally open to being tied down when a pierced dick is part of the equation. Though I prefer handcuffs.”
I burst out laughing.
“What?” She scowled at me. “The right pair of handcuffs is much more comfortable than other forms of bondage.”
I shook my head and tried to swallow my laughter. “Okay, handcuff preference aside. You good?” I asked. Jasmine rotated men so frequently I rarely bothered learning their names, and her response was always the same about her ‘relationships’ ending—she was fine and wasn’t looking for a happily ever after.
An easy smile spread on my beautiful best friend’s face. “Couldn’t be better. You know what they say: there are better dicks in the sea.”
“Jas, I’m pretty sure that’s not how the saying goes.”
“Whatever. It’s how my saying goes.”
She twisted in her seat and narrowed her eyes on me. “What about you? I know you aren’t exactly eager to share about things with Emmett, but I’m here, okay? And I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be. I’m fine. How could I not be, it’s not like there’s anything to miss after one day with him. We won’t have any awkward encounters since he lives in Boston, and I’ll probably forget what he looks like by next week.” Apparently I’d decided on the half-truth-slash-no-truth route. I purposefully focused my attention on the green SUV in front of me, knowing Jasmine would see through my bullshit if she caught my lying eyes.
She made a tsk-tsk sound and shook her head. “Now I know you’re lying. No woman in her right mind could forget what Emmett looks like.”
Hearing his name out loud followed by a reminder of how unbelievably gorgeous he was felt like a sucker punch to my gut. My words were already flimsy, and now I had my own body betraying me.
“Well, I will. I don’t know if you saw the flowers, but he sent roses. And I distinctly remember telling him how much I hate roses.”
“He was making an effort, JP,” she countered.
I rolled my eyes. “The card literally had one word. One freaking word, Jas. Soon. Soon what? Soon I’ll forget what lying next to him felt like? Soon I won’t recall the way he touched me like I was the sole purpose his hands existed? Soon I’ll forget we ever met?”
“I know you’re frustrated, Jade. But I think you need to give him some time. You said there was a lot of family drama he’s dealing with, so maybe you’re being too quick to judge. Chances are there was a decent reason he left so abruptly.”
“Oh, God. What if I’m bad in bed?” I groaned.
“Jesus Christ,” Jasmine muttered and dropped her head against the headrest. “You are not bad in bed. Bradley would’ve told Henry, and Henry would’ve told me,” she added with a smirk.
A choking-slash-gagging sound escaped my throat. “I thought we agreed to never speak of the Bradley incident.”
She laughed. “I’m just saying. Emmett wouldn’t have tried to nail you in the front seat of a car if you were lacking in bedroom skills, JP. I agree the flowers are lame, but give him a chance. I wish you could see how you two were looking at each other at the bar.”
Flashes of the night we met played in my mind, and even though I was still a mess of confusion, I knew she was right. But I was tired of talking about Emmett.
“I find it ironic you’re so hell bent on wanting some kind of miraculous, fairytale romance for Emmett and me when you don’t even give yourself a chance at that kind of relationship.”
A crack in her armor – a flash of something like pain in her eyes – came and went almost before I noticed. Weird. Then again, Jas had been weird about her love life for years, so I wasn’t surprised.
“I don’t want a fairytale kind of love. You do,” she insisted. “You might choose not to believe it, or you might not want to believe it, but I see the way your face lights up when you see a cute baby or happy couple. I, on the other hand, haven’t wanted a fairytale in a very long time.”
Jesus. We were a pair of delusional friends living in a little place called denial. Maybe that’s what made our friendship so perfect. We knew each other well enough to call the other on her bullshit, even if it got us nowhere fast. Or maybe we were both just destined to end up sitting around together in our wheelchairs at eighty-seven years old, surrounded by our thirteen cats while we knitted them matching hats. Hard to tell which was the case.
As soon as I stepped into my childhood home, the aroma of freshly-baked bread filled my nostrils and made my mouth water. I expected to see my dad camped out in the same recliner he’s probably had since the eighties, watching a baseball game. But the chair was vacant. My parents and a third voice drifted down the hallway from the kitchen.
Seconds later I was barreling toward my mountain of a brother, squealing and hurling myself at him like I hadn’t seen him in years, rather than months. He picked me up and gave me the kind of bear hug only he could give. His size resembled our dad’s frame—massive and broad, while mine mirrored our mom’s—petite and slightly curvy.
“Dean?! What the hell?” My voice was muffled by his shirt, but I knew he understood by the tiny vibrations of laughter shaking through his chest.
He set me down and held his hands up in a not-my-idea gesture while my mom clapped her hands and smiled from ear to ear. My dad shrugged in a what-can-you-do sort of way.
“Does this mean you won’t be in New York this weekend?” I asked.
“I’m on the first flight in the morning, so you’re still on for crashing at my place,” he answered.
“Tell me, D, how many pizza boxes and take-out containers are lining your counters and dining room table?”
“Very funny. I cleaned before I left, smartass.” He crossed his thick arms over his chest and rolled his eyes.
I smirked. “I’m thrilled you’re here, but what’s the occasion?”
“I might be changing jobs and moving back. It’s not a done deal yet, though.”
“Dean! I’m so excited! But you love working for the NYPD.” I frowned. Dean had become one of the youngest detectives in his department three and a half years ago, and was damn good at his job. He’d lived in New York for twelve years, and I had no clue he’d been thinking about leaving.
“Sweetie, did you hear the news?” Mom asked, turning to greet Jas.
In my excitement to see Dean, I hadn’t even realized she wasn’t in the room. She slowly crossed the threshold into the the kitchen, slipping her phone into a pocket and twisting a chunk of wavy hair around her finger. “I
heard. Congrats, Dean,” she offered with a smile that didn’t quite touch her eyes. The smile looked forced and made me wonder what kind of phone call she’d gotten in the car a few minutes ago.
“Thanks,” he replied, flickering a look her way before turning back to me. “You remember Charlie? He’s heading the Austin division of Cobalt Global now and wants me to make the move into the private sector. It’s not the kind of opportunity I can pass up easily.”
The first ten minutes of dinner passed with little to no conversation, each of us too busy shoveling bites of my mom’s homemade bread and lasagna into our mouths. Eventually the eating slowed, and the wine flowed freely as our conversation about Dean’s potential move continued.
“Have you talked to Natasha?” Mom asked.
Natasha was the girl Dean had been dating for about six months. I wanted to like her, but we hadn’t clicked either of the times I’d met her. She was polished and materialistic and seemed to only care about appearances. Dean was her polar opposite. He let his hair get shaggy and overgrown, and I’d be willing to bet he’d never shaved more frequently than every third day. He was genuine and caring, didn’t give a shit about what other people thought; I didn’t understand what he saw in her.
He shoved a piece of bread in his mouth and shook his head, buying time before he replied. “Nothing to talk about yet,” he stated gruffly.
“Well, if she’s going to be a part of your future, you should see where she stands on the prospect of moving away from New York. You have an obligation to her too, Dean.”
My father muttered something under his breath before reaching to refill his wine glass. Jasmine kept her eyes down and pushed around remaining food with her fork. Nobody wanted to get tricked into this conversation with my mother. She meant well, but she couldn’t quite help herself. After Andrew, she cut me some slack, but I didn’t dare draw attention to myself.
“I’m just saying, I’d like to see you settle down, and Natasha is a lovely girl,” Mom added. “You’re not getting any younger, Dean.”
