A California Christmas

by Brenda Novak

  14

  Sunday, December 13

  When Emery woke up, she felt surprisingly good, and she knew why. She hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep—it’d been four o’clock before she’d returned to her room—but the night had ended on a much more positive note than it had begun. Just remembering her time in Dallas’s bed made her smile.

  He was an incredible lover.

  “I must be crazy,” she whispered to her reflection as she sat up and stared at herself in the mirror over the dresser. What was she doing staying here, working in a cookie store and having sex with Aiyana’s son? She’d never imagined she wouldn’t be in LA, delivering the news. But, thanks to Ethan, her life had taken a ninety-degree turn.

  Part of her thought she should leave Silver Springs right away, put a stop to the madness and quit being a burden on Aiyana and Dallas. But Aiyana had made it clear she was welcome, and Dallas insisted he wanted her to stay, too, at least through the holidays, at which point they’d both have to get back to their regular lives. Sure, she’d been recognized at the Blue Suede Shoe and in such a sensational way that word of her presence was bound to spread and spread quickly. But she’d expected the locals to become aware of the fact that she was in town eventually.

  So how would that change things?

  She’d face some judgment, criticism and curiosity while working at the cookie store. But at least she had a job here, was making some money, and she had a safe place to come home to at night. What would she do in LA? Sit around and feel sorry for herself? Obsess over Ethan being able to retain his job despite what he’d done to her?

  A loud clang and some other noises, coming from below, trickled up to her. Someone was in the kitchen.

  It had to be Aiyana. Emery had been staying in the house long enough to know the younger boys would sleep in as late as Aiyana allowed them to. And Dallas deserved to sleep, after getting banged up in that fight.

  Determined to help with the wedding before she had to go to work, Emery kicked off the covers and climbed out of bed. She had to shower before heading to the store, but she didn’t want to do that now in case Aiyana needed her to do something strenuous.

  After she brushed her teeth, she pulled her hair into a ponytail, donned some sweats and hurried down to see what might be on the agenda.

  “You’re up early,” Aiyana commented when Emery joined her in the kitchen.

  “I have to be at work at one but I was hoping there was something I could do this morning to help you get ready for the wedding. It’s the last weekend before the big event. You must be overwhelmed.”

  “Oh, I’m not taking the wedding too seriously,” she said as she rinsed the beaters of the electric mixer. “I’d like it to be a nice event, of course, but I’m too old to obsess about the details. Cal loves me, and I love him. That’s what’s important. If I forget something or the food or music doesn’t turn out exactly so, hopefully our guests will understand.” She gestured at a bowl filled with batter. “You ready for breakfast? I’m making buttermilk pancakes.”

  After becoming an adult and working hard to take care of herself, it felt wonderful to be able to stay with someone like Aiyana, who was so nurturing. It wasn’t as if her own mother could offer her a soft place to land during this difficult time. “Looks delicious. Thanks. Would you like me to set the table or do something else to help with the meal?”

  “If you could get them on the griddle for me, that’d be great. I’ll go roust out the boys. It’s harder to get them up than you might expect.”

  Emery buttered the griddle Aiyana had already plugged in and chuckled as she listened to the ruckus going on upstairs.

  “Right now,” she heard Aiyana say. Then either Liam or Bentley responded, with a big measure of complaint, “It’s Sunday! Why do we have to get up so early?” And she said, “Because we have work to do.”

  Emery was being so careful to pour the batter such that the pancakes wouldn’t fuse together that she didn’t hear Dallas enter the room behind her.

  “Morning,” he said.

  She whirled around, holding the spatula she planned to use to turn the pancakes. “Oh! You startled me. Good morning.”

  Her pulse picked up, but she knew it wasn’t from being surprised. Just having him so close did that. As much as her mind insisted on continuing to call him a friend, her body had no hesitancy claiming him as a lover.

  He was wearing a pair of jeans that fit so well she couldn’t help noticing, and a plain gray sweatshirt. “Sleep good?” he asked as he went over to pour himself some coffee.

  The air felt pregnant with all the things they were attempting to ignore. Last night had been... Memorable. That was probably the best way she could describe it. They were good together in that way. There was a palpable energy sparking between them even now, but she wasn’t about to address what’d happened. She was going to pick up and move on, exactly as she had after Thursday. “I did. You?”

  He didn’t answer, but he smiled as he sat down with his cup, and Emery used the few seconds she had before Aiyana returned to take stock of the injuries to his face now that it was easier to see the bruising. “You look better than I thought you would.”

  He took a sip of his coffee, drinking it black. “That fight last night was nothing.”

  “Your mother won’t think it was nothing when she sees your face.” Emery bit her bottom lip as she considered how Aiyana might feel at learning her son had been hurt trying to protect her. She didn’t want Aiyana to regret being kind enough to take her in. “What are you going to tell her?”

  “That some jackass at the bar picked a fight with me.”

  She felt a wave of relief. “You won’t mention me?”

  “I don’t see why I’d need to.”

  Their eyes met and held for several seconds, and she knew that, like her, he was probably remembering their time in his bed, especially when his eyes ran over her before returning to his coffee. “I appreciate that,” she said.

  “Dallas!” Aiyana yelled as she crossed the living room on her way to the stairs that led to his room.

  He cleared his throat and looked toward the door. “Right here.”

  “Oh. Good. You’re up,” his mother said, even though she hadn’t quite reached the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

  “Do you have to ask?” he replied. “I’m always hungry.”

  She stopped as soon as she crossed the threshold and saw his face. “What happened?”

  “I got into a little scuffle last night. That’s all.”

  “That’s all? You’re going to look like you’ve been mugged in my wedding photos!”

  Emery winced and opened her mouth to explain what really happened. After what Dallas had done for her, she couldn’t let him bear the brunt of his mother’s displeasure. But Dallas shot her a quelling glance. “If you think I look bad, you should see the other guy,” he joked.

  Frowning, Aiyana lowered her voice. “You know better than this...”

  He arched his eyebrows. “This one couldn’t be helped,” he said, suddenly serious and surprisingly firm.

  The edge to his voice indicated he wouldn’t be questioned, and Aiyana backed off. “Okay. You’re an adult now. I’ll stay out of it. Just tell me this—is the other guy okay? He isn’t in the hospital, is he?”

  “He might be,” Dallas allowed.

  Emery was shocked by his honesty, but continued to turn pancakes on the griddle as she heard Aiyana say, “Oh, Dallas.”

  Emery couldn’t withstand the disappointment in her voice, couldn’t let him take the blame. He didn’t really deserve it. “It was my fault,” she admitted. “Some guy was bothering me, and when Dallas tried to get him to stop, he started a fight.”

  Aiyana’s expression immediately relaxed. “Oh, that’s different,” she said, putting a reassuring hand on Emery’s arm. “Don’t worry. I just panicked for a
second. If there’s a fight around, somehow my son always finds it.”

  “That’s not true,” Dallas argued. “At least not anymore. It’s been years since I’ve been in a fight.”

  Her face took on a sardonic expression. “I guess I’m still traumatized.”

  Liam and Bentley came thundering down the stairs at once, shoving each other as they entered the kitchen, each fighting to be first.

  “Hey,” Dallas barked when they bumped the table, causing his coffee to slosh over the side of his cup.

  “Sorry, bro.” Liam pushed Bentley off him since Bentley had landed in his lap. Then he leaned forward to get a better look at Dallas’s face. “Whoa, what happened to you?”

  “Ran into a door,” Dallas said flippantly.

  “No, you didn’t,” Bentley said as though he wasn’t that gullible and slid into his own seat. “You were in a fight, weren’t you?”

  Dallas took another sip of his coffee. “Not a big one.”

  “What happened?” Liam asked.

  “Doesn’t matter now,” Dallas replied.

  “Really? That’s it?” Bentley was obviously disappointed. “That’s all you’re going to say?”

  “Yes, it is,” Aiyana broke in. “Let’s leave it there for now.”

  Bentley shot her a disgruntled glance. “Fine, what do we have to do today?” he asked as he helped himself to the pitcher of orange juice already on the table.

  “Cal needs you to help clean things up at the ranch.” Aiyana got some plates from the cupboard. “We only have one more week until the wedding.”

  “What will we be cleaning?” Liam asked.

  “The grounds. Mowing, weed-eating, trimming. That sort of thing.”

  “I sure hope I don’t have to muck out the barn again,” Bentley grumbled.

  “When we finish, can we go bouldering with Dallas?” Liam asked. “He said he’d take us while he’s home.”

  “Not today,” Aiyana said. “By the time we finish at the ranch, it’ll be dark.”

  Emery got the impression she wasn’t eager for Dallas to encourage his younger brothers’ interest in the sport he loved, and she could understand why.

  “But next week’s the wedding. We can’t go then, either,” Liam complained.

  “We’ll have our chance,” Dallas told him. “Mom and Cal are heading to the coast for a few days after the ceremony. We’ll clean up on Sunday, so she doesn’t have to face that when she gets back, and climb on Monday. You’ll be off school that week for the holidays, so we’ll have plenty of time.”

  “Okay,” Liam said, putting a heavy emphasis on the second syllable to show his displeasure with having to wait.

  “When I get married I’m going to elope,” Bentley announced.

  Aiyana set silverware in front of each of them. “Why’s that?”

  “You’ve been planning and working on this wedding for months and months—and yet it’ll be over in a matter of hours. Seems like a waste of time and money to me.”

  “Weddings aren’t meant to be practical,” Dallas reminded him.

  Aiyana came up behind Bentley and dropped a kiss on his cheek. “We’ll see how fast that changes once you’re in love and your bride wants all of her friends and family see her promise you forever.”

  A grudging smile tugged at his lips as if to say he already knew she was right, and they all laughed.

  “Shh, I hear something,” Liam said, lifting one hand.

  When everyone quit talking, Emery could hear what he did—the jingle of her phone. “Oh, that’s me,” she said, and handed Aiyana the spatula as she hurried up the stairs.

  The call had transferred to voice mail by the time she reached her room, but she recognized the number. She’d called and sent several text messages to it since Dallas had gotten it from Ethan.

  “No, no! Don’t go anywhere—I’m right here!” she mumbled, afraid she’d missed her one chance to speak to Tommy, and that, for some reason, he wouldn’t pick up when she called back.

  “Hello?”

  The second she heard his voice, she breathed a huge sigh of relief and closed her door. “Tommy, it’s Emery.”

  “I know,” he said. “You’ve been blowing up my phone for two days.”

  So why had he waited so long to call her back? “Sorry about that, but I’m in a terrible mess.”

  “I’ve seen the video,” he said simply.

  She cringed. She felt so violated. “Ethan is claiming you posted it.”

  “That’s what you said in your messages. But where would I get something like that?”

  “The story he gave me—as well as upper management at the studio to save his job—goes something like this. You have a thing for him, so you were jealous of me. You must’ve been spying on us while we were making love, secretly recorded us and posted that video online so I’d blame him and refuse to get back together.”

  “That’s ridiculous! I’ll be honest with you. I do have a thing for Ethan. I always have. Besides being straight, he’s vain, shallow and selfish. But, God help me, there’s something about him. That’s why it was hard for me to make this call. I knew it would mean siding with you against him, and I preferred to stay out of it.”

  “Even to proclaim your innocence?”

  “I had nothing to do with that video. I didn’t make it, and I certainly didn’t load it onto the internet.”

  “I believe you. There’s no doubt in my mind Ethan posted it to get back at me for breaking up with him. He’s using you as a scapegoat. But we can’t let him get away with what he’s done. It’s unfair to both of us.”

  “What do you think I can do?”

  “Help me.”

  “How?”

  “Did you ever see any recording equipment in the house? Run across a hidden camera? Remember Ethan talking about filming his sexual exploits? Anything along those lines that might help place the blame where it rightly belongs?”

  “I never saw any recording equipment. But that doesn’t mean anything. These days all you need is a cell phone. He could’ve put his phone in a stand on the dresser, had it recording the whole time, and it’s entirely possible you didn’t notice. Even if you saw it, you’d probably assume he was charging it.”

  Sadly, that was true. She’d been far too trusting. “You don’t remember picking up on anything about him making his own pornography? Never heard him mention recording himself with me or anyone else?”

  “No. I once told him about a friend of mine who used a similar recording to blackmail a partner into returning some paintings, which he’d stolen when he moved out, but that’s all.”

  Emery sank onto the bed. She’d been so convinced Tommy would be able to provide some information that would help her case. But saying he had a friend who’d once threatened cyber-exploitation wasn’t going to do anything. “You’re sure? That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  Letting her head fall into her hand, Emery massaged her temples. “Okay. Thanks,” she said in resignation, and was about to hang up when she thought of another question. “Wait! Tommy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Why’d you move out?”

  He hesitated, which seemed odd. Most people could readily name a reason for moving. “Thiago and I decided to live together.”

  But why now? He’d been with Thiago for six months. And since they’d recently gone through a rough patch, Emery was under the impression their relationship wasn’t as solid as it had been before. “Why? What changed?”

  After another pause, he said, “Nothing, really. We’ve wanted to move in together for a long time. That’s all.”

  She’d guessed that might be the case. But his response still begged one question. “Ethan wasn’t mad that you didn’t give him thirty days’ notice so he’d have time to get someone else in there?” She knew how str
apped Ethan was financially, what with the new car payment, the amount of credit card debt he carried, and the way he liked to buy clothes, shoes and watches. He wouldn’t be happy to pay twice as much rent, especially when he wasn’t expecting the added expense.

  “Sorry, I just arrived at work and the restaurant’s busy,” Tommy said. “I’d better go.”

  She hadn’t realized he was driving while talking to her. “No problem. I don’t want to hold you up. Thanks for calling me back.”

  “You bet. Good luck with everything,” he said and then he was gone.

  With a sigh, she put her phone back on the nightstand and started to go down to finish her breakfast and clean the kitchen. But the more she thought about her conversation with Tommy, the more it troubled her.

  He never did answer her about moving out so suddenly and leaving Ethan without a renter. Had he been evading her question?

  She told herself no. She could easily imagine him arriving at work and being distracted.

  But there was something else.

  She came to an abrupt halt before entering the kitchen, where she could still hear everyone else finishing up breakfast, then pivoted and went back up to her phone. Tommy worked as a waiter for an upscale seafood restaurant in Malibu that served an elegant brunch on Sundays. She’d been there; Ethan had taken her several months ago. They’d asked for Tommy so they could sit in his section. But they’d been told Tommy never worked on Sundays—something Ethan, who was oblivious to almost anyone but himself, hadn’t been aware of even after living with Tommy.

  Today was Sunday. And yet Tommy had said he was at work. Had his schedule changed?

  She assumed it had, but she looked up The Lobster House, anyway, found the website and called the number listed. “Has Tommy come in yet?” she asked the woman who answered.

  “Tommy doesn’t work on Sundays,” she was told.

  “He must be subbing for someone,” she said. “Can you check the restaurant, please?”

  “I’m positive he’s not here. Everyone has shown up for their shift. But...one sec.”

  Butterflies rioted in Emery’s stomach as she listened to the classical music coming through the phone. Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. “Nope. Tommy’s not here,” the girl said when she came back on the line.