by Brenda Novak
“Language,” Aiyana warned.
“Right.” He looked back at Emery. “You okay?”
“It looks a lot worse than it is. I’m fine—better than the lamp I broke,” she said with some chagrin.
A shy smile lit his face, his smooth dark skin contrasting nicely with his large white teeth. “At least I’m not the one to break something this time.”
Aiyana swatted his arm, but Emery could tell she wasn’t seriously angry. “What you did wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t been playing ball in the house.”
He pretended to throw a pass to some imaginary receiver. “Hey, I’m a football player. That’s what I do.”
“You’re a running back, not a quarterback, and you had no business throwing that ball in the house,” Aiyana insisted with a begrudging smile. “He’s hoping to get a football scholarship,” she explained as an aside. “We’re pretty darn proud of him. But he’s not going to let his studies suffer, right?” She winked at him. “You’re going to use your brain, too, so that you’ll have a fallback in case the worst happens and you don’t make it into the pros—or, heaven forbid—you get injured.”
“Aw, man, listen to you,” he said. “Don’t jinx me like that, Ma!”
They squeezed past him on the way out. “You need to be prepared for anything,” Aiyana advised.
As Bentley closed the door, Emery couldn’t help glancing down the stairs to see if Dallas was still up, but all seemed quiet.
“So are you okay?” Aiyana asked before they parted in the hallway.
Emery knew Aiyana had to get ready for work. She spent long days at the school. “I’m fine. Again, I’m sorry—”
Aiyana waved her words away. “Please, stop apologizing. It’s nothing. Really. But I do hope you’ll think about what Dallas had to say. Being nice is wonderful, but allowing someone to push you around isn’t. Sometimes when people step over the line, you have to let them know you won’t put up with it.”
Emery was slightly surprised to hear this coming from the nicest person she’d ever met. “I agree.”
Aiyana was walking away from her, but at this, she turned back. “You do?”
Emery drew a deep breath. She felt so fragile. But Dallas’s words had imbued her with the desire to stand up for herself, to fight back, regardless of what it might cost. “I’m going to call the attorney I’ve been talking to and tell him to go ahead and file suit.”
Aiyana smiled in apparent satisfaction. “Good. They’ll learn that they can’t treat people the way they treated you.”
Although Emery nodded decisively, she knew winning wasn’t automatic. She’d have a battle on her hands, one that came with no guarantees.
She paced in her room, trying to work up the nerve, until eight o’clock, when her attorney would be more likely to arrive at his office.
Then she made the call. She managed to reach him, but after it was over, she felt like throwing up.
4
Dallas woke up after ten. His mother would be at work and Bentley at school. Liam would be gone, too. Not only was Liam taking several online classes for college, he was working for Cal Buchanon, the man Aiyana was about to marry, as a cowhand on his cattle ranch not too far from town.
The only person Dallas expected to be home was Emery. Since her main goal in coming to stay with Aiyana was to escape the public eye, he couldn’t imagine she’d go anywhere. Although walking around in Silver Springs wouldn’t be as difficult as walking around in LA, Silver Springs wasn’t all that far away. There would be people who lived in the city for part of the year—people who’d heard about the scandal and may have even watched the video.
The house was silent. Had she left, regardless? Or had she fallen asleep after getting so upset earlier this morning?
He assumed the cuts she’d got weren’t any big deal. If they had been, Aiyana would’ve taken her to a doctor, and he would’ve heard about it.
He checked his phone. There were no missed calls or texts.
Trying to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, he scrubbed a hand over his face and shoved into a sitting position so he could send a message to his mother.
What happened with Emery after I went to bed? She okay?
He didn’t get an immediate response—Aiyana was always busy—so he got up and showered.
By the time he was dressed, Aiyana had a message waiting for him.
Should be. You haven’t seen her?
Not yet. Just woke up.
You’re not sick, are you?
He was usually well into his day by now, and she knew it. He’d almost always been an early riser. But maybe that was because he often had a hard time sleeping. The nightmares that plagued him had been much worse when he was younger, but he struggled with them even now.
No. Got in bed late. That and I’m taking advantage of having the month off.
I’m glad. You push yourself too hard, especially when you’re climbing. The rest has to be good for you.
He’d come home to help Aiyana get ready for her wedding, not because he needed to rest. She was so used to taking care of everyone else he wanted to be sure she received the attention and support she deserved now that she was finally tying the knot with Cal.
His phone buzzed as he put on his shoes. He thought it might be Aiyana, hoping to discuss Emery’s situation or checking to see if he’d be interested in walking over when it was time for lunch. She, Eli and Gavin often ate in the cafeteria. They liked interacting with the students, being accessible. That was his mother’s secret, how she managed to turn so many troubled boys around. She genuinely cared, she was patient and kind, and she invested the time, gave them the attention they needed.
But it wasn’t Aiyana who was trying to reach him. It was Brian Gerlack, the owner of the parkour gym in Las Vegas where Dallas worked during the winter. Dallas had put off coaching until January this year, which was unusual. He usually started the first of November, as soon as the weather turned, but finding a sponsor meant he didn’t have to go back at all—not unless he wanted to. Some of the guys who were representing the same brand were after him to travel to Europe to get ready for the IFSC World Cup together, which meant he might not make it back even in January. And that wasn’t something he was eager to tell Brian. Brian was more than just an employer. They’d grown exceptionally close over the years, so close that Brian had been talking about retiring and selling him the gym.
Dallas was grateful—for everything Brian had done for him and was willing to do. But now wasn’t the time to lock himself in. Dallas had finally achieved what he’d been after all along. He could climb to his heart’s content—and get paid for it. He couldn’t commit to an entity he’d be responsible for without any reprieve, couldn’t strap himself down indefinitely. Just thinking about being stuck in one place—especially in such a big city—made him claustrophobic.
With a frown, he silenced his phone and went upstairs. What Brian offered him was a great opportunity. But he’d recently been given a better one. If he became a real contender in the sport, someone like Alex Honnold, he could always use his name and experience to open a gym later.
But if he got hurt before he had enough recognition and couldn’t continue to climb...
What then? Where would he find the capital? It would be much more difficult to get a start if Brian had already sold the gym to someone else.
He put two slices of bread in the toaster and was scrambling eggs at the stove when he heard a sound behind him. He knew before he turned around that it was Emery.
“You okay?” he asked, glancing behind him.
She’d just rolled out of bed, too. Dressed in another pair of yoga pants—these gray—she had her hair pulled back. “I feel terrible about how I behaved earlier. That tantrum was childish and...ungrateful and...and ridiculous.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m embarrassed.”
�
��Don’t worry about that. It’s not the first time my mother’s lost a lamp.” He cast her a wry grin. “I broke a few when I lived here.”
“But if it was when you lived here, you were much younger,” she pointed out ruefully.
“I’ve gotten better at managing my emotions over the years,” he said with a shrug. “I’ve had a lot of practice handling disappointment.”
She didn’t seem overly pleased by his response. “You’re saying I haven’t had any practice? That I’m spoiled?”
“I’m saying that the trouble in your life started later than mine. That’s all. You get better at navigating setbacks once you handle a few.”
She could tell he meant no insult. “True, but that’s no excuse. It’s so nice of Aiyana to let me stay here, and I—”
“It’s fine,” he broke in. “She understands what you’re going through.” He used his spatula to point at the coffeemaker. “Coffee?”
She got a mug from the cupboard and poured herself a cup. “Thanks.”
“How about some eggs?”
“Only if you’ve got enough. Otherwise, I can have granola and yogurt. Or cold cereal.”
“There’s plenty.”
He pulled out a plate, buttered the toast and gave her a piece of it as well as a big scoop of eggs.
“Did Aiyana tell you?” she asked.
“Tell me what?”
“I’ve decided to go ahead and sue the station,” she replied as he set the food in front of her. “I talked to my attorney about it this morning.”
He returned to the stove to dish up his own breakfast. “You confident in that decision?”
“I feel it’s the right thing to do,” she hedged. “But I’m scared. It could get ugly. Ethan could go to the media, cause the story to blow up even bigger, when all I want is for it to go away—the sooner the better.”
“You should expect the worst. You need to be prepared or your commitment will waver.”
Biting her bottom lip, she stared down at her food. “How do I get prepared?”
“You have to know your own mind, remain determined.” That was how he tackled each new climb. It was determination that carried him through every challenge.
“At Christmas,” she added glumly. “Who wants to deal with such negative—and embarrassing—stuff at Christmas?”
He thought of her parents’ divorce and her grandmother’s deteriorating mental state, but she didn’t mention those things, and he didn’t bring them up, either. He rummaged through the refrigerator for ketchup, grabbed the last piece of toast he’d buttered and the rest of the eggs, and sat down with her at the table. “I can’t imagine anyone would. But Ethan whatever-his-last-name-is brought this fight to you.”
“Right.” She watched as he took his first bite. “There’s just one thing.”
He swallowed. “What’s that?”
She cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable. “I hate to ask you this, but...” Her eyes skittered away from his only to return a second later, and her shoulders lifted as she drew in a deep breath. “I can’t quit imagining it, can’t quit feeling as though... Well, it’s the elephant in the room, isn’t it?”
“If there’s an elephant in the room, I don’t know about it,” he said, mystified.
“You’ll understand as soon as...” She twisted her hands in her lap. “Maybe if I just broach the subject, get it out of the way, I’ll be able to relax and...and won’t have to feel so self-conscious and humiliated every time I see you...”
He swallowed. “Sounds good to me. What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t...” She squeezed her eyes closed. “You haven’t watched the video, have you?” she blurted out.
He waited for her to open her eyes, which she did with a wince, as though she was afraid of what she might hear. “No.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Really?”
Skepticism showed in her voice, but there was hope in her face—and it was the hope that made him glad he was telling the truth. “Really,” he said with more authority.
She pushed her eggs around her plate. “Most people, especially old acquaintances, would look it up the moment they heard of it. Curiosity alone would tempt someone to watch it. I admit—” her face reddened “—if I wasn’t the one going through this and someone told me there was a sex tape on the internet featuring you or anyone else I knew from high school, I’d be tempted to look it up. I was a news anchor, after all. I’ve been trained to jump on any piece of potential news, even if it’s only gossip. I’m sort of ashamed of that now that I’m on the other end.”
“It’s human nature,” he said.
She took another bite. “So why haven’t you looked it up?”
It sure as hell wasn’t because he wasn’t interested. Like she’d said, curiosity alone dictated he have a look. He guessed he felt even more curiosity than others, because of his earlier romantic interest in her.
Before he’d dropped into bed last night, he’d nearly gone online to see what all the fuss was about. How bad was it? How much of her could be seen? Should she be as embarrassed as she was? Was Ethan putting on an act, playing the great lover, knowing he was videoing the whole thing? Did he ever look toward the camera?
The thought that Ethan might have done something like that had made Dallas want to punch him in the face. He’d used his anger as an excuse to grab his laptop. He gave himself several other excuses, too—it was no big deal, everyone else had seen it, it might help him calm Emery’s fears and convince her it was no big deal if he knew what exactly was involved. It wasn’t like it would change his opinion of her. What would it hurt?
She didn’t even have to know.
But before he could type her name in the search engine, he’d realized that it would hurt something—it would hurt her—and decided he wouldn’t abuse his mother’s trust, that he would be the man she wanted him to be, and he would be the friend Emery needed in this moment. Even if she didn’t know he’d done it, he’d be taking something intimate from her that she hadn’t offered him, and he didn’t want to do that to her or any other woman.
He chewed slowly, trying to decide how honest he should be about the close call. She’d been honest with him. But he wasn’t the one struggling with trust. So he decided not to reveal that he’d nearly broken faith with her—even before he knew it was somehow important to him to maintain it. “Because it wasn’t meant for me,” he said simply.
In the end, that was the reason he’d set his laptop aside and gone to sleep without allowing her coanchor to embarrass her any further, so it was true.
She sagged in relief, as if his words were soothing to her bruised and battered heart—probably her ego, too—and Dallas was glad he’d made the right decision. He was also ashamed of almost making the wrong one.
“I appreciate it,” she said. “I feel so violated, and...and wounded, you know? As if Ethan somehow blew away any hint of respectability and dignity I had. So it’s especially nice to be able to be with you and not feel as though you’re seeing that video playing in a loop in your mind whenever you look at me.”
Because he’d nearly succumbed, he felt unworthy of her praise and changed the subject. “Being cooped up in this house all the time, thinking about what happened, can’t be making things any easier. I’ve got to get some Christmas shopping done. I usually wait till the last minute, but this year, with how busy we’ll be with the wedding, I figured I’d drive over to Santa Barbara today and see what I could find. I have nieces and nephews who are getting older and understand that Christmas means presents.” He chuckled. “So I can’t be quite as derelict as I’ve been in the past. Any interest in going with me?”
She started to decline. She seemed horrified by the possibility of facing strangers who might’ve seen her in such a compromised position. But he convinced her that the people in Santa Barbara might not
recognize her. It was chilly out; she could bundle up without looking odd or out of place. “A day out will be worth the risk. You have to start circulating again at some point,” he said. “Facing your detractors might help you put it behind you.”
“I’m not ready for that,” she insisted.
“Why wait? Why let anyone make a prisoner out of you?”
She rubbed some of the bandages under her yoga pants. “I’ve got all of these little cuts, for one.”
“Are any of them very deep? Do they hurt?”
“Not really, but I’m using whatever excuse I can,” she said wryly. “Maybe I’ll brave it after Christmas.”
“You don’t need to do any shopping?”
“I can do it online.”
“And miss all the decorations and holiday cheer? The congested traffic? The crowds? The fake tree in the center of the mall?” He nudged her elbow as he finished eating. “The Salvation Army person who rings that little bell?”
She laughed but then narrowed her eyes. “Something tells me you’re not all that excited about holiday decorations yourself.”
“I like them,” he insisted. “And going out might only get harder the longer you put it off. Why not have some fun? Forget everyone else? I’ll be with you. How bad can it get?”
She took a few more bites and swallowed before nodding as though she’d come to a decision. “Okay.”
* * *
Knots formed in Emery’s stomach as Dallas parked at La Arcada Courtyard, a quaint shopping and dining area in Santa Barbara with 1920s Spanish Colonial architecture, red awnings, several fountains and ivy crawling up the white stucco walls. She hadn’t spent much time in Santa Barbara, not since she was a kid, but it remained familiar to her and felt generally less threatening than the LA metropolis, which was filled with the television viewers she’d been so excited to cultivate once she graduated from college.
“You ready for this?” Dallas asked as he turned off the engine.
They’d been talking most of the drive, so she’d been able to push this moment to the back of her mind—the moment when she’d have to get out and face strangers who might recognize her and be familiar with the scandal surrounding her. Even with Dallas beside her for moral support, even with Santa Barbara seeming quite removed from LA and her relationship with Ethan, she felt the jagged edge of anxiety drag through her, tearing at her confidence. She wished they could return to New Horizons Boys Ranch immediately, so she could retreat inside Aiyana’s home. She was safe there. No one could find her—other than Aiyana and Aiyana’s immediate circle, of course.
