by Brenda Novak
Her phone started to buzz while they were waiting for Ethan’s response. “He’s calling!” she announced, and came to her feet.
Dallas jumped off the bed, too. “Wait. Don’t answer it yet.”
“I don’t know if I dare answer it at all,” she said. “What if I can’t fake being nice?”
“You have to. He’ll find out about the suit soon. This could be your only chance.” Dallas grabbed his phone from where it was charging on the nightstand. “Remember, just let him do most of the talking. I’ll record the whole thing.”
“No, I got it. I downloaded an app that will allow me to record an incoming call—but I have to answer it first.” After taking a deep breath, she hit Talk. “Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“I know,” she said, and put him on speaker while searching for the IntCall app she’d installed, hoping for this opportunity.
“Are you okay?” Ethan asked when she didn’t speak right away.
His tone was conciliatory, beseeching. She decided he was a much better actor than she was, because he couldn’t really care about her. “Barely,” she admitted. She figured there was no reason to pretend when it came to that. He had to know what a devastating blow he’d dealt her.
“I can’t believe everything that’s happened,” he said as though he’d somehow been a victim, too.
She had the recording going. Giving Dallas a little nod to let him know, she breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s been crazy,” she said into the phone, fighting to get those three words—such a gross understatement—through a throat that was already threatening to close off with anger and frustration.
She hoped she wasn’t about to burst into tears; it suddenly felt like it.
“We should never have let it come to this,” he said.
Let it come to this? We? He’d caused it! Or was he saying—you should never have left me. Let this be a lesson to you. “I never saw it coming,” she admitted.
“That Tommy would load that video... It’s unconscionable. I still can’t believe it.”
Her mouth dropped open and her gaze jerked to Dallas. There was no way Tommy had filmed them and put that video on the internet. She liked Tommy and knew Tommy liked her. It was Ethan who’d done it. But he was determined to pass the blame. “Why would Tommy do it?” she asked.
“I tried to tell you before. He was pissed at me. You know I asked him to move out, right?”
Only because he was anxious for her to move in. But once they’d broken up, he didn’t need Tommy to move out. At that point, the problem had been solved. So even if Tommy were the type to do something vengeful, he wouldn’t do it once he knew he could stay, would he?
Before she could respond, Ethan said, “I think he has a thing for me, if you want the truth.”
“A thing for you?” She’d thought Ethan couldn’t surprise her any more than he had, but this proved her wrong. She’d never seen any sign of interest from Tommy and she’d never heard Ethan make such an assertion before.
“He’s gay, you know. I think he was jealous of you the whole time, and this was his way of getting you out of the picture.”
But Tommy had a boyfriend. They seemed content with each other. And she’d already stepped out of the picture by the time that video was loaded.
Ethan’s story wasn’t making sense, but he was doing his best to sell it.
Mentally harnessing her emotions, she fought to keep her voice steady. “Have you talked to him?”
“I have. I told him I could never trust him again and that he had to get the hell out of my apartment. I kept worrying that the little bastard was filming me in the shower or getting dressed or whatever. It’s creepy.”
Poor Tommy. Beyond a cursory hello or goodbye, she didn’t know him that well, had only spoken to him a handful of times. But her impression of him was so different from the picture Ethan was painting. She wished she had Tommy’s phone number. He might be able to tell her something that would disprove Ethan’s version of events. “And he said...”
“He claims he didn’t do it—swears on his life. But who else could it be?”
You! It was you! Emery wanted to scream into the phone, but she felt Dallas touch her arm—a reminder not to lose her composure.
“Do you have his number?” she said. “I’d really like to give him a piece of my mind.”
“No, I deleted his contact information from my phone as soon as he moved out. I don’t ever want to talk to him again.”
That was convenient. The expression on Dallas’s face suggested he was thinking the same thing. “That anyone could do that... Well, you’re right,” she said. “It’s unconscionable, and I hope whoever recorded and posted that video burns in hell.”
“So where are you?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve been by your place a hundred times. Your car is never there.”
She heard Dallas swear under his breath and pulled the phone away so that Ethan wouldn’t realize she was with someone. “I’m visiting a friend,” she said. “I couldn’t stay in LA, not with everyone watching that video.”
“Then where are you?”
“Silver Springs.”
“Even though your parents are in Boston these days?”
“I have friends here.”
“Who?”
“No one you’d know.”
“Are you looking for another job?”
“Right before Christmas? No.”
“When will you be coming back to LA?”
“At this point, I can’t say.”
“I hope it’s soon. I’d really like to see you. I’ll even come there, if you’ll give me an address.”
She shifted her hold on the phone. “Maybe if you admitted that you were the one who recorded us and then put that video up on the internet, we could make up, Ethan, put this all behind us. But the fact that you’re trying to blame it on Tommy, when Tommy would have no motivation to do it, makes me realize that you’re a liar on top of everything else.”
“I’m not lying!” he cried.
“Tell me the truth, and maybe I’ll be able to forgive you.” Dallas had suggested she let Ethan do the talking, but Ethan wasn’t saying anything that would help her. He was using this call to try to rewrite history. And soon it would be too late to press him; he’d know she wasn’t going to forgive him—she was going to sue him. “You did it, didn’t you? You wanted to hurt me, so you posted that video.”
She was hoping he’d say something like, “You hurt me first!” But he didn’t. He fell silent.
“Ethan?”
“What?” His voice was now morose.
“Why did you make that video? Had you recorded us before?”
“You’re such a bitch,” he snapped, instantly vicious, and hung up.
Emery threw her phone on the bed and covered her face. “Damn it!”
Dallas tugged her hands away. “Don’t let him mess you up again. You did the best you could,” he said, and pulled her into his arms.
Contrary to what it probably seemed to Dallas, she wasn’t all that emotional. Not normally. But her helplessness in this situation created so much frustration it surfaced in the way of tears. “I hate him,” she whispered, trying to choke them back.
“He’s obsessed with you. You heard him, right? He’s driven past your house a hundred times. Consider yourself lucky to be rid of him, and that it only took a leaked sex video.”
“Only?” She could feel the solidness of Dallas’s body, the strength in his shoulders, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, she felt better now that she was in his arms.
“He could’ve done a lot worse.” He smoothed the hair back from her face, like one might do with a child. “He’s so removed from reality that I wouldn’t put it past him to turn into some kind of stalker. Maybe
you got out when the getting was good.”
She’d never thought of it that way. “You think he might be dangerous?”
“I’d hate to accuse him of that, because I don’t really know. But he’s definitely missing a sensitivity gene.”
“He only cares about himself.” She tilted her head back to be able to see Dallas’s face. “Wading through my drama can’t be any fun for you. I’m sorry that I’m in your mother’s house and that my situation is such a downer right now. I’m not normally like this.”
“I don’t mind.”
The moment she started to notice how long his eyelashes were, she told herself to move away from him. He smelled and felt too good for her to be able to think clearly.
But she didn’t withdraw. Her feet seemed to be stuck to the floor, and her heart was pounding again—only this time it wasn’t in anger. She was beginning to feel something much more pleasant, and the unexpected reprieve made her reluctant to change anything.
Suddenly curious to know what it would be like to kiss a man like Dallas, she studied his lips. They were nice lips; well-shaped and soft-looking. He was so different from Ethan or anyone else she’d dated—much more rugged but also... What? She couldn’t decide. It felt strange to dub him as guarded when he’d been so nice. But he was holding back, reserving a part of himself that he didn’t allow others to see or know.
What was he like when he wasn’t holding back?
The change she felt in his body let her know he’d felt the change in hers, and that broke the spell. They both stepped back at the same time, and she quickly wiped the tears that were left over from that call with Ethan. “I’d...uh...better go to bed. I’ll try to figure out a way to reach Tommy in the morning. He might be able to tell me something that will help.”
“Is he on social media?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never looked for him. Until I decided to move forward with the suit, I didn’t have any reason to contact him. I knew Ethan was full of shit coming up with that bogus story. But now... I may have to prove it.”
“Instagram or Facebook might be an easy way to reach him.”
“I’ll check. Thank you for...for coaching me through this,” she said. “I appreciate your friendship.”
His mouth quirked as though he knew she was labeling their relationship as a way to get them back on stable ground. “I appreciate your friendship, too,” he said. “And don’t worry, I know I’m not the kind of guy you need,” he added with a wink.
* * *
Emery was breathless by the time she reached her room. She’d only scaled two flights of stairs, but she felt as though she’d run a mile.
What had just happened? There’d been that business with Ethan, which was upsetting. Then Dallas had tried to comfort her, and it had worked far better than either of them had expected. Not only had the anger and frustration, her constant companions of late, drifted away, she’d felt a flicker of desire.
She almost couldn’t believe it. Here she was in the depths of despair and yet she’d wanted to kiss Dallas? Right on the heels of having Ethan shout profanities at her and hang up?
Humans really were resilient, she thought as she dropped onto the bed. She’d figured her sex drive was gone for good, or at least for a while. That video was enough to make her want to remain celibate for the rest of her life. But Dallas had just proved that celibacy probably wouldn’t become her reality—and that meant she had to be careful or she could get herself into trouble again. She knew Dallas would never do anything like what Ethan had done, but her heart was too fragile right now. She had to protect it.
Besides, Dallas’s friendship was what was pulling her through this mess. She couldn’t risk losing it.
Trying to forget what was, she told herself, a minor blip and would amount to nothing if only she could forget about it, she opened her laptop and set up a new account on Instagram. She wanted to see if she could find Tommy.
He wasn’t listed by name, but sometimes people on Insta used only their handle. She tried various possibilities with no luck and decided to check Facebook. She couldn’t imagine Tommy used Facebook very often. Not many of her friends did. But it was possible he’d set up an old account—or she might be able to find someone associated with him who could get him a message.
Her phone dinged with a text. She cringed for fear it would be from Ethan—another attack. She hadn’t blocked him, even though she probably should, just in case he texted something she could use against him.
But it wasn’t Ethan; it was Dallas. Any luck?
Apparently, he wasn’t asleep yet, either. She thought about that brief moment in his room but quickly shoved it into the back of her mind. He was obviously letting it go, so she didn’t need to worry about it, either.
Not on Insta. Trying Facebook now.
If he’s not there, do you remember his boyfriend’s name? Maybe you could find him.
It was a good suggestion. She did remember Tommy’s boyfriend’s name, because it was the only time she’d ever met a Thiago.
Sure enough, she found someone she thought might be him and followed the account so that she could send him a message:
If you know Tommy, please tell him that Emery Bliss, Ethan Grimes’s ex-girlfriend, needs to talk to him. Ethan is trying to claim Tommy’s responsible for something I know he’s not, and I could really use his help. Tell him I’m sorry to have to ask.
She braved leaving her number, even though she wasn’t one hundred percent certain she had the right guy. At least she had a chance.
Closing her laptop, she set it aside. She didn’t expect to hear back from Thiago tonight. It was too late. She told Dallas:
I found someone who might be Tommy’s boyfriend and left him a message. Thanks for suggesting I look for him.
That’s what friends are for.
He added a wink emoji that let her know his response meant more than the cliché alone. He was referring to that encounter in his bedroom, was letting her know he understood the boundaries.
She sent a laughing emoji back to him, brushed her teeth and changed into the T-shirt she’d be wearing to bed. What happened with Dallas was nothing, she told herself; she didn’t need to worry.
But as she fell asleep she wasn’t thinking about the catastrophic events that had brought her to Silver Springs.
For a change, she was thinking about a pair of pretty blue eyes with long golden eyelashes.
9
Thursday, December 10
Before she left for work, Aiyana had come down to Dallas’s room to ask him to put up the artificial Christmas tree. She said they’d decorate it tonight if he could just bring it in from the garage. It was later than she usually put it up, but with her wedding coming up so soon, she was running behind.
He expected it to be an easy request but frowned when he found the box. It was huge! He didn’t know how she thought just one man could carry it in alone. “I know you think I’m strong, but this is ridiculous,” he muttered as he pulled out his phone to call Eli or Gavin to ask if they could stop by the house and give him a hand.
Before he dialed, however, he thought of Emery. He didn’t need a lot of help. If he had his guess, the box was more awkward than it was heavy. The two of them could probably manage it—if she was around.
He went back into the house and yelled up the stairs. “Emery?”
When he received no answer, he walked up to find her door closed and some music playing.
He knocked loudly so she’d be able to hear him above the alternative rock band she was listening to, and she opened the door wearing a white blouse with a wraparound tie and a slim-fitting black skirt. She’d also put on makeup. “Wow. You look great,” he said. “You going somewhere?”
“Last night I told your mom I’d be willing to help Susan with the cookie store until after New Year’s, when I need to get on w
ith my life, and she set up an interview.”
He wondered if Susan had heard about the disgraced news anchor from LA and if it was going to be difficult for Emery to face her. Right now, Emery seemed intent on getting ready, so it was tough to tell if she was nervous. “What time do you have to be there?”
She checked her phone. “In an hour. Why? What are you doing?”
“I was going to offer to make you breakfast in trade for a few minutes of your time.”
“I’ll take that deal. What do you need?”
“A little help bringing in my mother’s Christmas tree.” As he let his gaze slide all the way down to her high heels, he tried not to acknowledge, even though he definitely noticed, that she had a nice figure. “But you might not want to do it dressed like that. The box is dusty.”
“I can kick off my shoes and throw on a robe,” she suggested.
“Are you sure? I could ask one of my brothers to stop by instead...”
“No need. I’m here. And I’m stronger than I look.” She flexed as she grinned at him. “At least I’m not crying today,” she added as if she knew he’d be relieved about that.
He chuckled because he was relieved and jerked his head toward the stairs. “It’s in the garage.”
“Great. I’ll be right there.”
He went down ahead of her, and she put on a robe and came to join him.
He held the door going into the garage for her to come through. Then he pointed at the giant box that contained his mother’s fourteen-foot artificial Christmas tree, which already had the lights on it. “It’s that beast right there.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wow. That’s bigger than I expected.”
“That’s what I thought when I first saw it.” He rested his hands on his hips. “You still game to give it a try?”
“Of course. Why not?”
She got on one end, he on the other, and they managed to lift it. From there, he did his best to bear most of the weight as she helped carry it inside. “You okay?” he asked as they struggled to squeeze it through the door.
