by Brenda Novak
“Fine. You?”
“I’m happy I’m not trying to do this on my own,” he admitted.
They both blew out a sigh and dusted off their hands once they’d maneuvered the tree into the living room and put it by the window where it could be set up. “Thanks,” he said. “Now...what would you like to eat?”
“How extensive are your cooking skills?” she teased.
“I live in my van half the year, so keep that in mind.”
“Not a wide repertoire, huh?”
“I typically eat greens and beans. As long as I get enough protein and vitamins, I don’t care too much about the taste. I’m definitely no chef.”
“An omelet?” she queried.
“That I can do.”
She went up to remove her robe while he returned to the kitchen.
“Any word from Tommy?” he asked when she was back and pouring a cup of coffee from the pot he’d put on as soon as he got up.
“Nothing yet,” she said. “I checked as soon as I rolled out of bed. I’d really like to hear what he has to say. Maybe he was aware of Ethan’s hidden camera. It’s possible I’m not the first woman Ethan ever recorded. If Ethan made a joke about filming his sexual exploits, or Tommy saw him purchase the equipment or found the packing material in the trash, it could make a big difference in my case.”
“It’d be awesome if he ran across the camera months ago.”
“Wouldn’t it?” She added a dash of cream to her coffee. “My attorney would be so excited. He called me this morning. He plans to file the paperwork tomorrow.”
“So only one more day before Ethan and the station learn that you’re coming after them?”
“Yup.” She took a careful sip. “And I’m a little scared. I haven’t blocked Ethan’s number. Since I didn’t get anything useful out of him last night, I’m hoping being served with a lawsuit will set him off, make him say something he wouldn’t have said otherwise.”
The ding of the microwave signaled that the bacon was done. As Dallas got it out, he could easily imagine how angry Ethan might get. “Are you sure you should even answer if he does call?”
“I have to. He won’t say anything on voice mail. He knows I could play that for someone else, but he doesn’t know I’m recording our conversations. I’ll have a much better chance of having him go ballistic and screw up if I answer.”
“True. Last night, I got the impression he’s really torn. He wants you back, so he’s tempted to play nice, but he’s angry that you don’t want him, which makes him act badly instead. I just... I hate to think of what he might say to you.”
“That’s exactly how it is. When we first broke up, he alternated between bringing me gifts, telling me he loved me and sending flowers to making me think he might explode. And as things progressed, and he realized I really wasn’t coming back, he got nastier and nastier.”
Finished cooking her omelet, Dallas brought it to the table. “How nasty did he get?”
“Called me every name in the book, said I’d never amount to anything without him, that I’d come crawling back on my knees, that I wasn’t good in bed anyway—you name it.” She carried her cup to the table and sat down. “He hurled every hurtful thing he could at me. Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, I came out from work one day to find a dog pile in the driver’s seat of my car.”
Dallas had already started to make his own omelet. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“No.”
“And you think it was him?”
“Had to be. I almost always lock my car, but I was running late that morning, the parking lot was fenced and we had a security guard at the door of the building, so I didn’t bother digging out my key fob.”
He hesitated while chopping more onion. “But the security guard didn’t see anything?”
“No. That’s another reason I think it had to be Ethan. The security guard would recognize Ethan’s car, so I doubt he’d bother to watch him from the moment he parked to the moment he walked into the building. It would be easy for Ethan to leave that ‘smelly bomb’ for me as he passed my car.”
Dallas dabbed the last of the bacon with a paper towel. “Does Ethan have a dog?”
“No. Which is why he claimed it couldn’t be him. But when the dog pile thing happened, he was pretty angry. The day before, I refused to let him come over, and I saw this weird look in his eye. It was like he suddenly hated me. He was embarrassed that I would break up with him, didn’t want anyone to think he couldn’t have me or any other woman he wanted, but I’d had enough. By then I’d realized he’s not a nice person.” She finally took a bite of her omelet and chewed slowly before saying with complete conviction, “I know in my gut that it was him.”
Dallas used a spatula to turn his own omelet. “How long after that dog shit incident did the video show up online?”
“It was the very next day. What he’d done hadn’t hurt me enough. He was looking for something else.”
“How did you find out that he’d posted the video?”
She swallowed what was in her mouth. “Oh God, it was horrible. I was in the middle of getting a pedicure, just hoping to relax for thirty minutes and forget about the messy breakup, how awkward it was going to be to see Ethan every morning and deliver the news without every viewer we had reading in our body language that we suddenly couldn’t stand each other. I was also worried about how we were going to keep our little problem from coming to the attention of Heidi and others at the studio. And on top of that, my mother was falling apart because she’d just learned my father had moved in with another woman. So there I was, closing my eyes and thinking I had a much-needed chance to recoup, when the woman next to me started whispering loudly to her neighbor on the other side. They’d say something to each other, crane their necks to get a better look at me, then nod and whisper some more. Finally, I said, ‘Excuse me. Is there something wrong?’”
He lifted his omelet out of the pan and onto a plate. “Did they tell you?”
She frowned as she stared at the bite she held on her fork, her mind obviously back in that nail salon. “The woman closest to me said, ‘Aren’t you Emery Bliss?’”
“You must’ve thought they recognized you from seeing you on TV,” he said as he brought his plate to the table.
“I did. I was sort of flattered,” she said, looking slightly embarrassed. “But then the other woman said, ‘Is that really you in that steamy video online?’ I told them that I wasn’t in any steamy video, that I was a news anchor and they must’ve confused me with someone else. Then she and her friend started laughing. They left it at that, but kept shooting each other these side-eye looks as though the joke was on me. And it was. Right about then my phone started to blow up. I was getting calls and texts from almost everyone I knew—‘Oh my God! What’s going on? Have you seen it?’”
“That must’ve made you sick to your stomach.”
“It did. I’ll never forget what it felt like to click on that first link and see myself naked.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I felt like throwing up. And so many people on Facebook and Instagram were calling me a slut or making fun of me. It felt as though everyone I knew—even those I didn’t—were gathering around me to taunt and jeer and throw rocks.”
Again, Dallas had to fight the urge to contact Ethan and take this fight into his own hands. “Did you call Ethan and ask what was going on?”
“I did. I called him immediately. My heart was pounding so hard I thought I’d pass out, and my mind was reeling as I tried to figure out who’d recorded us, and who would hate me so much that they would post that video online.” She laughed without mirth. “It wasn’t until I talked to him that I realized.”
He shoveled a forkful of omelet into his mouth. “That it was him?”
She nodded. “He wasn’t upset at all. He was smug, almost gleeful. So then I began t
o catch on. I realized he was the one who’d recorded it and put it out there—to punish me for breaking up with him.”
“Did you accuse him?”
“I did. And he laughed. He’s lied about laughing since, when I tried to tell Heidi about that call,” she explained. “But that was exactly what he did.”
“Too bad you didn’t get it recorded.”
“Now you know why I’m hoping he’ll do something like that again.”
“The guy deserves to have his ass kicked,” Dallas ground out, once again feeling the desire to do just that.
“What he deserves and what he’s getting seem to be two very different things. I can only hope this lawsuit will make the situation a bit more fair.”
“When will you need to meet with your attorney?”
“I don’t know. So far we’ve been taking care of everything via Skype.”
He got up to pour himself some more coffee. “If you ever have to drive to LA, I’ll go with you, if you want.”
“I would love that. Thank you.” She checked the time. “I’d better get a move on. I don’t want to be late for this interview. It might be the only job I’m able to get,” she added with a rueful laugh.
“Good luck with it.”
She rinsed off her plate and put it in the dishwasher. “You don’t have to go to town in the next ten minutes, do you?”
Although she kept her eyes on what she was doing instead of looking at him, he knew where she was going with this. “No. But I’ll take you.”
She smiled at him, obviously relieved. “Thank you. I have my car, but... I don’t know. It’s easier to be with someone who’s supportive—helps me feel like less of a pariah.”
“I get it. And I don’t mind.”
She started to leave the kitchen but stopped at the last second. “By the way, don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not fulfilling your end of the bargain.”
He was just getting up to rinse his own plate. “What bargain?”
“You said I could ask about you as long as you could ask about me. Well, I’ve told you just about everything there is to know about the nightmare I’m going through—I’ve even told you the embarrassing stuff—but you haven’t said a word about yourself.”
“I’m not that interesting,” he joked, hoping to pass it off that easily.
She arched one eyebrow. “Does that mean our friendship only goes so deep? I share and you encourage?”
He thought of the night before, when he’d held her against him in an effort to comfort her, and nearly kissed her. It’d taken him an hour or more to dampen the desire created in that moment. Long after she was gone, his mind kept circling back to it, imagining what it might have been like had he gone through with it. He didn’t want to fight that battle again, so as far as he was concerned, maintaining some emotional distance was a good idea. It might help him maintain some physical distance, too.
He didn’t want to screw up with her while he was home. He wanted to help her.
“There’s just no need to go into it,” he said.
* * *
Emery smoothed down her shirt, checked the tie on it to be sure it was still in a perfect knot and brushed a piece of lint off her skirt. “Wish me luck,” she said as she sat in the passenger side of Dallas’s van looking at the cheerful Sugar Mama sign just down the string of shops on the main drag.
Dallas rested one arm over the steering wheel. “Don’t be nervous,” he said. “She needs your help, which means she should be very friendly.”
He’d been coaching her the entire drive, trying to help her calm down. She’d never thought she’d be so afraid to apply for a minimum wage job, but she felt anyone who hired her, especially in such a small town, could come under fire. So she was frightened she might get turned down, even for this.
“Right.” With a deep breath, she got out, cast a parting glance at Dallas—and received a nod of confidence. After a quick smile to signify that she was okay, or at least determined to see this through, she straightened her spine and focused on Sugar Mama while forcing her feet to carry her to the door. It was a darling shop, decorated in pink and brown—with both stripes and polka dots—and it was fully decked out for the holidays.
Open the door. Close it. Smile. She couldn’t chicken out the way she wanted to.
“You must be Emery Bliss,” Susan said as soon as the bell went off, announcing her presence.
Emery assumed it was the way she was dressed that indicated she wasn’t simply a customer and swallowed to ease the dryness of her throat. Would Susan mention the recent scandal? Would Emery have to explain what’d happened? Make excuses? Apologize for what she’d done, even though it should’ve been a private matter between her and her boyfriend?
Susan’s gaze ran over her, making her think that maybe she would. She didn’t seem overly welcoming.
But then she smiled. “You’re a beautiful young woman. You remind me of my daughter.”
“Thank you.”
“And you seem familiar. Where do I know you from?”
Aiyana obviously hadn’t mentioned her situation. Susan didn’t seem to be aware that she’d even been a news anchor. Emery didn’t know whether to be disappointed that the matter wasn’t already out in the open or grateful that she had a chance to circumvent it—although not mentioning it would be taking a chance. Susan could so easily find out and get angry that she wasn’t notified. But Emery didn’t feel as though she had to sacrifice her self-respect for a mere four weeks of work. “I grew up here.”
“Oh! I’ve been here forever, so I’ve probably seen you around. Aiyana just said you were an old friend visiting for the holidays. I didn’t realize you were one of our own. Who are your folks?”
Emery gave Susan her parents’ names, and as soon as she mentioned that her dad was a plastic surgeon, Susan nodded. “I’ve heard of him. I don’t know that we’ve ever met, but—”
“They live in Boston now. My mom and Aiyana are close, and since I live in LA, Silver Springs was much less expensive to come for the holidays, so...”
“I see. How long will you be staying?”
“I don’t know yet. But I hear you only need help with the store for a little while, and I would love to be able to lend a hand.”
The dark circles under Susan’s eyes and her sunken cheeks suggested she was struggling. She was tall and thin—too thin—and she looked tired even though it was early yet.
“Some days are better than others,” she responded with a brittle smile. “But for some reason, this month has been particularly rough. I’ve had to rely on my son-in-law’s brother far too much. Fortunately, he makes sure I have what I need.”
“Did you say your son-in-law’s brother?”
“I did. My son-in-law is the principal at the girls’ side of New Horizons, so he can’t help much. And my daughter is really busy with the kids and her social media business. So Tobias, his brother, helps me out a lot.”
“That’s really nice. He must be a good man.”
“He is. I didn’t think so for many years, but I was wrong about him. I feel bad about that.”
Emery didn’t know how to respond to such a comment, so she went back to Susan’s health. “Maybe the long hours are what’s giving you trouble. The Christmas season is wonderful, but it’s busy.”
“True. I’m grateful for the extra business, but it’s hard for me to put in so many hours without ever getting a break, especially because the damp weather causes my lupus to flare up.” She rested her hands in the pockets of a cute apron that matched the decor of the shop. “So. When would you be available to start?”
“Whenever you need me,” Emery replied, a little startled that Susan was going to hire her that easily. “You could even call me at the last minute, if you begin to feel poorly, and I could run over.”
“You realize that busine
ss drops off steeply after Christmas, so if you do stay in town...”
“Don’t worry. I won’t be staying into January. I’m fine with helping only as long as you need me, even if that’s just a week or two.”
“That’ll work.” She sagged slightly as though she’d been concerned she didn’t have much of an opportunity to offer. “I can’t afford anyone in the off-season. Do you have experience working in a place like this or something similar, like an ice cream or cupcake shop?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Not even during college?”
Her parents had paid for college. Because of them, she’d been able to focus exclusively on her studies, hadn’t had to work, which was why she could hardly begrudge the money she sent to her mother now. “No.”
“Well, it’s easy enough—which is why it doesn’t pay a whole lot.”
“I understand.”
“I’ll go a dollar per hour over minimum wage, since you’re being so flexible with me. Is that acceptable?”
Emery felt a wave of gratitude. Maybe she wouldn’t make a great deal of money, but any amount would help mitigate the drain on her savings. “It will. Thank you. I appreciate it. When would you like me to come in for training?”
A group of people walked into the store, so Emery stepped off to one side, praying no one would recognize her while she waited for Susan to serve them. Fortunately, they were intent on the menu, which took up the whole of one wall, didn’t even glance over at her as they chose various cookies, ice cream sandwiches and a whipped mocha drink.
Once Susan had rung them up and they’d sauntered out, Emery breathed easier.
“Can you be here when I open on Saturday?” Susan asked. “At ten?”
“I can,” Emery told her.
“Great. I’ll see you day after tomorrow, then.”
As she left, Emery felt a little guilty that Susan didn’t know she was hiring a woman with such a damaged reputation. But she was so eager to leave the recent debacle behind her she wasn’t about to spread the word herself.
