by A. P. Jensen
She knew why he was calling. The anniversary of the worst night of her life was coming up and Ben was a part of it.
“Do you want me to call the cops?” Peter pushed.
She shook her head.
“What did he do to you?”
She closed her eyes. She and Peter never brought up their pasts and she hated that Ben caused this. She couldn’t talk to anyone about it, not even her best friend, Anna.
Peter’s cell rang. He let out a low growl and snatched it from the suit jacket draped over the chair. She was grateful for the interruption. She saw the eggs oozing over the floor and began to wipe it up with a dishcloth.
“Damn it, Derek, I know what time it is. I’m on my way,” Peter snapped.
Emma wrung the dishcloth under hot water and grabbed a cleaner and sprayed the spot on the floor as Peter finished his angry conversation with Derek. She kept her head down as she wiped in circles, still rattled by Ben’s call.
“Emma?”
She grunted and continued to clean. She let out a startled yelp when he hauled her up and pushed her into the chair again. He tossed the soaked dishrag in the sink and crouched in front of her again.
“Is there something I should know about him?” he asked.
“No.”
“Are you afraid of him?”
Emma shook her head. “No. It just… didn’t end well.”
His eyes moved over her face. She looked away because she didn’t want him to see how shaken she really was. She didn’t want to talk about Ben.
“I have to go back.”
“I know.” Just leave, she thought. Just leave me alone so I can put myself back together again.
“If he bothers you, let me know, okay?”
She nodded, though she’d never do such a thing. This was between her and Ben. She wouldn’t bring Peter into it. As if he could hear her thoughts, he frowned.
“I don’t want to leave you like this. You look…” he trailed off and closed a hand over hers. “You’re cold.”
“It’s a shock hearing from him after all this time.”
Peter rubbed her hands between his. “He said he loves you.”
“We’ve known each other since we were kids.”
There was so much history between her and Ben. She loved him once upon a time, but now the sound of his voice made her throat tighten with the need to scream. She felt ill. The nasty taste of betrayal permeated her mouth.
Peter’s hands tightened on her. “Do you want to see him?”
“No.”
There was no hesitation in her voice and he relaxed.
“You broke it off with him?”
“Yes.”
“Are you gonna be okay?”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward and kissed her. The heat of him chased away the chill for the moment and brought back memories of their night together. He brushed her hair back from her face and her hands fisted in his shirt before she realized what she was doing.
“Tell Ben you’re with me,” Peter growled. “I’ll see you soon.”
He shrugged into his suit jacket, kissed her once more and walked out the front door. She watched him from the doorway as he unlocked his BMW.
“When will you be back?”
The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop herself. She wanted to be alone, but she wanted- needed to know he would be back. He paused and looked every inch the tycoon he was. His fancy suit didn’t fit in well with her fence that needed to be painted and the modest homes around him.
“When do you want me?”
“September fourteenth.”
She waited for him to recognize the date, but there was no comprehension on his face. He gave her an unreadable look before he nodded and ducked into the car. She waved as he drove away, locked the front door and slid to the floor. She covered her face with shaking hands and wept.
CHAPTER TWO
Peter moved through the crowd of men in tuxedos and women in daring dresses. The people that once laughed in his face wouldn’t meet his eyes. Every goal he strived for, he surpassed. He sacrificed everything and came out on top in the business world. Men scrambled to shake Peter’s hand and women gave him suggestive glances, but all he felt was a gnawing restlessness. He didn’t want to be here. The world he once desperately wanted to be a part of was overrated. He made his way across the room and accepted the flute of champagne thrust into his hand. All for show, he thought cynically. He found himself wondering what Emma would think of this crowd and his mouth quirked. She would be disgusted. On the surface, Emma fit into this crowd. She was beautiful, successful and poised but she wasn’t a socialite. Emma enjoyed life in her small town.
He walked onto the balcony and took a deep breath. Damp cold settled over him. He glanced up at the sky, but it was too cloudy to see anything. His cell phone seemed unnaturally heavy in his pocket. He called twice since he left her a month ago. She sounded like her normal self, but he knew something was wrong. When he asked if she had any more calls from Ben, she said no and changed the subject. He wanted to push, but she never asked about his past, so what right did he have to pry? He tried to clear his schedule to see her, to pin down exactly what her relationship with Ben had been, but the most lucrative client in his career came knocking on his door. He practically lived in his office for the past month, working day and night to ensure everything was perfect.
“My father is very impressed with you.”
Peter didn’t have to look to know that Leslie, the daughter of his new client, joined him on the balcony. He glanced at her. He’d seen her maybe twice in the past month and she made no secret of her willingness to take their acquaintance to the next level.
“He wouldn’t have hired me otherwise,” Peter replied.
“Your story is legendary. I think a big reason he hired you is because he knows you don’t give up. You’re too stubborn. You wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
His rags to riches story had been publicized when he got his first big breaks in the business world. Coming from nothing made him ruthless. He had nothing to lose. Sheer iron will made him rise to the top.
“Do you know how sexy you look in that suit?” Leslie asked in a husky voice that made her sound like she had a cold.
He was cynical enough to know making millions made him more attractive than he used to be when he made minimum wage.
“My girlfriend tells me all the time,” Peter said blandly.
That was a flat out lie. Emma stared at him like he was from another planet when he arrived on her doorstep in a suit. She didn’t ask about his life in the city and never once had she asked how much he was worth. Emma was a savvy businesswoman that enjoyed her simple life. He appreciated that about her. Maybe it was part of the reason he’d been attracted to her in the first place. She was confident, passionate, easygoing, and smart and she didn’t play games.
“Why isn’t she here guarding you?”
Leslie fluttered fake lashes and eased closer as if the proximity would influence him to change his mind. In the past, it probably would have. Leslie was beautiful, but she was also calculating and cold.
“I can take care of myself,” Peter said.
She looked him up and down with admiring eyes. “Yes, you can. You’re one of the most eligible bachelors in the city. Don’t you want to experience all the city has to offer?”
Leslie sidled closer. Her perfume was light and delicate and he barely suppressed an irritated growl. Didn’t she know he could see through her guise? If he was smart enough to make it this far, he was intelligent enough to see a gold digger when he saw one.
“I’ve sampled my fair share. I’m content.”
Leslie looked horrified. “You’re not going to marry her, are you?”
The question threw him for a moment. He couldn’t imagine being married. “No.”
Leslie relaxed and her coy smile returned. “I thought not. You can’t marry a nobody. Who is she? I’ve never seen her in any pictures
with you.”
“She doesn’t like the spotlight,” he said with a shrug.
“What kind of woman lets you go solo in the city?” Leslie was bewildered. If she had Peter Logan, she wouldn’t let him out of her sight. “You need a wife that can host parties for you, someone who can handle your clients.”
“And you think you’re qualified?” Peter asked with grim humor.
“I’m perfect,” she breathed.
Before Peter could reply, Derek appeared and Leslie turned her high wattage smile on him. After all, he was just as wealthy as Peter, but Leslie preferred Peter’s broodiness. Derek was known for his one-night conquests and would never marry. Peter, on the other hand, might take the plunge one day. Why shouldn’t it be with her?
“Your father’s looking for you, Leslie,” Derek said.
“Is he? I’d better go. Peter, call me,” Leslie said and blew him a kiss before she sashayed away.
Derek waited until Leslie was out of sight before he asked, “Why’d she corner you and not me?”
“She thinks I’m in the market for a wife,” Peter said.
Derek flinched. “She doesn’t look mad, whatever you told her.”
“I used Emma as a defense.”
“Well, you shackled yourself to her, figuratively. Want to go out to a club to celebrate?”
Peter glanced at his watch. “No. I have work to do.”
“Work?” Derek threw his hands up in the air. “We finalized the deal yesterday and you want to leave the party to work? You’re starting to worry me.”
“Don’t. I’m fine.”
Peter couldn’t even begin to tell his friend what was going on with him because he didn’t understand it himself. The suit he wore, although perfectly tailored, seemed too stiff and confining. Every day, he poured over his computer, reassured clients and spent half the day talking on the phone. There were always emails and responsibilities and they distracted him from Emma.
Ever since he comes back from his impromptu trip, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. He found himself wanting to know why she looked gutted when she heard Ben’s voice. She was always so cheerful when he was around that it rocked him to see her pale, shaking and tearful. He realized he really didn’t know anything about her past and she damn well never mentioned a guy named Ben. Were there more “Ben’s” that he didn’t know about?
The urge he felt to stay and comfort her that day surprised him. He wasn’t the type to save damsels in distress and the urge to offer emotional support was alien to him. He never met his father and his mom was a drunk that handed him off to an aunt who could care less about his existence. He was a hard man because he had to be and no woman had ever crept past his guards except Emma. She tried to hide how shaken she was by the phone call, but she hadn’t asked him to stay. He wanted Emma with a force that shouldn’t surprise him, but it did. The strength of his desire was beginning to worry him. It didn’t abate since the last time he saw her, it grew. She called him a week ago and for a moment, something niggled at the back of his memory, but Derek interrupted his line of thought.
“The doctor said you should take it easy.”
“I am,” Peter said with a shrug.
“Whatever. Just don’t overdo it,” Derek groused.
Four hours later, Peter settled in his desk chair. The empty office building allowed his mind to focus. There were no ringing phones or chattering voices to block out. It was just him and the work.
He glanced out of the floor to ceiling window behind his desk. Seattle was beautiful at night. He eyed the building across the street and knew he should go to his penthouse. It was a five-minute walk, but… why should he go home? A picture of Emma’s face appeared in his mind and he tensed. He pushed thoughts of her away and turned on the computer. He tried to convince himself that the reason he didn’t want to go to the penthouse was because he had work to do, but he knew the real reason- he wasn’t getting much sleep without her.
He wasn’t coming. Emma sat on the couch in her living room with her legs tucked under her. A perfect white slice of cheesecake, Peter’s favorite, sat sullenly on the coffee table before her. For the third time, she rang his cell but the call went straight to voicemail. The low level hurt that hummed through her all day turned sharp and dug deeper. She set the phone down very carefully and examined the dessert for any imperfections, but there were none.
She called Peter a week ago to remind him to come back to Bellingham on the fourteenth. He said he would be at her house by seven. She deliberately hadn’t mentioned their one-year anniversary, waiting to see if he would remember, but he forgot about her completely. Emma glanced at the clock, now on it’s way to eleven. She looked down at the lingerie she and Anna picked out and felt mortified and deserted.
The silence of the house pressed in on her. On nights when loneliness crept into her heart, she imagined she could hear the echo of her parents talking and laughing in the kitchen. The fantasy lulled her into a false sense of peace, but tonight pain ruled out all else. Through sheer will power, she pushed away the melancholy and guilt by focusing her attention on her anniversary with Peter, all to no avail.
Emma couldn’t stop the tears. This showed in no uncertain terms what position she held in Peter’s life. He promised he would come back and here she was, waiting for him on their anniversary. Emma couldn’t understand how Peter remembered every business contact, but he couldn’t remember a simple dinner request from her. Each time he pushed something back for business, Emma shrugged off the hurt, but tonight was different. Tonight it mattered.
Emma glanced at the clock again and shook her head. From the beginning, she knew not to rely on him too much, that letting herself fall for him would be monumentally stupid, but she didn’t listen. It wasn’t just that he forgot their anniversary, it was… everything.
Anna and her husband Tommy loved each other. It was the way her father looked at her mother. She was sure it wasn’t how Peter looked at her- when he remembered her. He probably viewed their relationship as a convenient one. She had too, at first. But she cared about him and missed him. She arrived at the bakery at three in the morning to help Anna bake and stayed until six at night or until Anna kicked her out. When she dragged herself to this quiet house, she found herself wishing for a normal relationship- with someone who demanded she get her ass home. Emma shrugged. Their relationship was bound to end sometime. She hadn’t pressured him for fear of scaring him off, yet it seemed their affair had run its course. She knew he wouldn’t offer more. Was his absence deliberate or had he genuinely forgotten their date?
The cursive on the rim of the plate, which spelled Happy Anniversary drooped as the chocolate syrup melted. Just as well, Emma thought. She put the dessert in the fridge and paused to blow out the candles around the room before she walked upstairs. She shucked the expensive lingerie and pulled on a tank top and sweats. She turned away from his empty side of the bed and cried herself to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Anna leaned against the doorjamb to Emma’s office, yawning and drinking out of a mug that said, I’m the boss.
“You’re supposed to be at home recovering from having wild sex all night.”
Anna narrowed her eyes as Emma rubbed a hand over bloodshot eyes and pushed away from the computer. Anna, a petite red head with a lot of spunk had a sixth sense where Emma was concerned. Emma kept so much hidden that Anna had to use every ounce of intuition she possessed to figure out when something was wrong. Right now, her senses were screaming that all wasn’t well with her best friend and business partner.
“I thought I’d come in early and finish some paperwork,” Emma said, avoiding eye contact.
Anna raised her brows and glanced at her bare wrist. “Honey, the sun isn’t even up. How long have you been here?”
Emma didn’t answer. Anna moved around the desk and put her arms around her friend. Tears stung Emma’s eyes. They attended culinary school for two years before Emma decided she was more interested in bus
iness. She did the finances while Anna took care of the kitchen. They were closer than sisters and Anna was all she had left.
“It’s that time of year again, isn’t it?” Anna murmured. “Are you having a hard time because of the date or did Peter do something to ruin the perfect night we planned?”
Emma let out a shaky breath. “Both, I guess. He didn’t show. I think he forgot.”
Anna jerked up so fast, she nearly strangled Emma.
“He what?” Anna said in a low voice of doom.
Emma sighed. “It’s okay, Anna.”
Anna stared at her incredulously. “It’s not okay. I’m going to kick his sorry ass-”
“I’m going to end it, so there’s no need to get upset.”
Emma turned away from her friend. She didn’t see the stunned, alarmed expression that crossed Anna’s face.
“End it? As in, break up with him?” Anna stammered.
“It’s time.”
Anna held up her hand. “Time out.”
Anna rushed out of the room and returned a minute later with a caramel mocha for Emma and her favorite scone. She set it in front of her friend.
“Eat. Drink,” Anna ordered.
Obediently, Emma drank and felt warmth spread through her cold hands. She took a bite of the scone and sipped more coffee. The headache she’d been ignoring for an hour began to ease. Anna sat in a chair across from Emma, watching her like a hawk.
“Okay, spill.”
“There’s nothing to say, really.”
“Let me get this straight. He didn’t show up for your one year anniversary, so you’re going to break up with him?”
Emma frowned. “You make it sound stupid.”
“You’re not stupid. You’re emotional. Peter’s an asshole, but don’t you think breaking up with him is going a little overboard?”
“No, I don’t. It’s more than that.”
Anna tilted her head to the side expectantly.
“You’re not going to leave me alone, are you?” Emma asked, exasperated
“Nope. So, why are you breaking up with him? Is there more going on that you’re not telling me?”
