“You’re popular today, Emmaline,” Aaron Wright said, leaning against the side of her desk.
“Yeah, sorry, I turned it off.”
“I don’t mind. As long as you keep turning out such great work. McDaniels loved the new logo you did for them, did I tell you that?”
“They did? That’s great. I didn’t know that, no.”
“You have a much broader concept of design than the other designers here.”
Emma frowned at the glare she got from a coworker. It was a completely open office, and she wished Aaron wouldn’t fawn over her work in front of the others.
“Well, we all have our strengths,” she said.
“But I like you. I like your eye.” His gaze rested levelly on her breasts as he spoke, and Emma shifted uncomfortably. So it was like that. Did he even like her work?
“Thanks,” she said coolly, rising from her desk. “I have to go meet my boyfriend for lunch.”
“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.”
“Oh, yeah. I’ll bring him in to meet you sometime. You’ve been a great mentor to me.”
He looked a little chagrined as she left the office. Had she sent the message clearly enough? The last thing she needed was to get fired, but she would quit before she got involved with Aaron. He was probably as old as her Dad, and he was her boss. He also wasn’t Cole.
It was difficult to not read his texts or listen to his voicemails, but there was no point. He had gone out with Layla, and that was that. She didn’t want to hear his explanation, and she sure as hell didn’t want to hear him say he still wanted to go out with her, too. There was no way she was sharing a man with her sister. She was uncomfortable enough knowing he’d slept with Layla, no matter how many years ago it was.
I lived the dream for a little while, and it was nice. But it’s time to get back to everyday life. And I like my everyday life. I can do things like forget about the five pounds I need to lose and eat a giant bagel with cinnamon cream cheese from that deli down the street for lunch.
Emma walked to the deli, finishing the bagel and a fruit smoothie on the walk back to the office. She hoped Aaron would be gone when she returned, so it would be a peaceful afternoon.
*****
The afternoon was just what Emma was hoping for until the phone at her desk rang.
“Emma Carson,” she said, distracted by the on-screen edits she was working on.
“So you’re alive! I’m a little pissed about that, actually, because I decided you wouldn’t just completely blow me off like this unless you were dead.”
“Layla.” Emma sighed, exasperated. “I’ve just been busy.”
“Busy with what? You have no life.”
“What do you want? Why are you calling me at work?” Emma asked with an edge.
“I’ve been worried about you. You won’t call or text me back. What’s up?”
“I’ve just been busy, honest. I’m sorry.”
“Is it Brian? Are you busy with him?”
“Ugh, no,” Emma said.
“Oh, is that over?”
“I guess. I don’t know. Can I call you later?”
“Don’t you want to hear about how it went with Cole?”
“Oh. Sure.” Emma burned inside at the thought of the two of them together.
“We went out for drinks downtown and we’re going out this weekend.”
“I thought you were taking him home Saturday night,” Emma said.
“No, I decided to make him wait.”
“Ah, yes, you’re so hard to get,” Emma said sarcastically. “I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
After she hung up the phone, Emma closed her eyes, forcing away the tears that welled. She’d known hearing Layla talk about him would hurt, and it had.
*****
The elevator doors were almost closed when Emma’s co-worker Amy slid a hand in to stop them.
“You want on?” she asked Emma as they opened.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“You always take the stairs,” Amy said, shooting her a confused glance.
“I know. I’m feeling lazy today.”
“Yeah, today kinda sucked.”
“It did, didn’t it?” Emma agreed.
“But you feel better knowing that Aaron ‘likes your eye’, right?” Amy said, blatantly ogling Emma’s chest as she said it. Emma threw her head back and laughed.
“You noticed that, too?” she said.
“Yeah. He’s a perv. Whatever.”
“See you tomorrow,” Emma said when they stepped off the elevator and pushed their way through the tall glass doors of the office building.
“Em!”
She turned toward the voice and saw Cole, who had been leaning against the wall waiting for her.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded.
“Why won’t you return any of my messages?” He’d loosened his tie, and Emma hated herself for liking the way he looked, even now. His dark gray suit fitted just right over the lines of his shoulders and biceps.
“Why are you such a manwhore?” she hissed, leaning toward him. His look of confusion was also angry.
“What did Layla say?” he asked, sounding disgusted.
“So you want to know how much I know, to make sure you don’t admit to anything else?” she asked.
“There’s nothing to know! She refused to tell me where she lived unless I took her out for a drink first. She was being so aggressive I almost left her on the side of the road with money for a cab. We went to a bar, where I had a soda, and I did end up leaving her there.”
“Why?” Emma asked, her anger draining away slowly.
“Because when I told her we’d had a drink and I wanted to take her home, she wanted to stay and have another drink. I told her I had to get home, and she didn’t want to leave.”
“But you’re going out with her this weekend!”
“She said that? God, she’s nuts!” Cole ran a hand over his hair in frustration. “Em, she wrote her number down and shoved it in my pocket and said, ‘Let’s go out next weekend. Call me.’ I’m not calling. I didn’t even save her number.”
“She is nuts,” Emma agreed. “She’s determined to have you.”
“I’m not interested. I was hoping to go out with you this weekend.”
Emma laughed bitterly.
“Why me, when you could have her?”
Cole shook his head, distaste all over his face.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “One of my favorite things about you is your confidence, Em. Can’t you tell how I feel about you?”
When he reached for her waist, Emma instinctively slid her hands around his neck. She reveled in the solid, warm feeling of him.
“Layla said you guys were going out for drinks and out this weekend, and I’ve been upset about it,” she admitted. “I figured she got you alone and charmed you.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to forget about it.”
“Don’t I deserve a chance to explain? Layla’s so fucking manipulative, you can’t take her at her word,” he said, sliding Emma in closer to him.
“It’s not just that, it’s also the history,” Emma said. “I always wanted you to see me when we were younger, but you only saw her. I figured that would happen again when she was in the picture.”
A steady stream of people made their way around them on the sidewalk, and Emma wished they could have this conversation in a more private place. But she needed to hear his answer, even if they were in the middle of a crowd.
“I didn’t see any girl three years younger than me that way in high school, Em. Our age difference was a lot different then. And Layla and I just went out a couple times. There really isn’t a history.”
“I tried on her purple prom dress one day when she wasn’t home and pretended I was going to prom with you. I’m not sure you realize the depth of the crush I had on you.”
“Had?” he asked, so
unding disappointed.
“Yes. No more desperate crushes. You know I like you, though, Cole. I don’t grope men in art gallery parking lots unless I have at least a passing interest.”
He smiled, brushing his lips across her forehead.
“I want you to come to a dinner with me Friday night,” he said.
“I’ll check my schedule.”
Cole nudged her ribs gently.
“I need you there. It’s important,” he said. “One of the partners at my firm is hosting it.”
“Okay.”
Emma saw Aaron Wright coming out the front doors of the office building, and she leaned up to Cole expectantly.
“Kiss me,” she said quickly. “Make it good.”
Cole’s lips parted briefly in surprise before he brought them down on hers. He tightened his hold on her waist, forming their bodies together as he kissed her, his tongue meeting hers insistently.
Her senses combined to overwhelm her as she swam in the woodsy cedar scent of his cologne, the taste of coffee and peppermint and the hard warmth of his body pressed against hers.
Emma was breathless when she pulled away, looking up at him in a daze. She knew it wasn’t her high school crush, but the man standing before her now, who was affecting her so deeply. He gave her a longing look, sighing deeply.
“I wish we could have dinner tonight, but I have to go back to the office,” he said.
“I’m teaching a class tonight, anyway,” she said, taking a breath to steady herself, still reeling from the kiss.
“What do you teach?”
“Oh, it’s a painting class. At a homeless shelter.”
“I’m working night and day on a case I have a hearing for Friday morning. I’ve got to get to a dinner meeting with one of the partners. I wish I could see you before Friday night, but --”
“Cole, I’m not the needy type. Do your work. We’ll see each other Friday night.”
Then -- Nine years earlier
Hugo’s tongue hung low as Emma released him from his leash in the front lawn after their walk. He bounded toward the house when he smelled his own yard, eager to escape the scorching summer heat.
The upbeat sound of baseball play by play drifted out of the garage, and Emma wandered into her father’s domain, sinking onto the old couch with a sigh.
“Emma,” her father said, smiling as he looked up from the engine of the car he was tinkering with. “I thought we could work on your driving today.”
“Okay,” she said, enjoying the cool whoosh of air a fan blew her way.
“Before we go, could you walk over to the Marlowes’ house? I noticed their newspapers are stacked up on the porch. They didn’t say anything about going out of town, though. There’s a key under the mat, just take the papers in and check the mail and see if everything looks okay.”
Emma rose from the couch, gathering her long, sweaty hair off her neck. She wondered how Layla could stand to be out on the football field practicing cheerleading in this inferno.
She noticed the pile of newspapers when she approached the house, all wrapped into cylinders with rubber bands. Mrs. Marlowe’s potted flowers were all drooping, and the house appeared quiet and empty.
Even with the key, she felt awkward entering the house.
“Hello?” she called loudly, dropping the papers onto a console table. “Mrs. Marlowe? Mr. Marlowe?”
Her brows furrowed as she walked into the kitchen and saw dirty dishes piled in the sink. Every time she’d been in the house, it had been spotless. She decided to check the garage for cars, but heard feet thudding on stairs before she made it out of the kitchen. Her heart hammered with worry until she heard Cole’s familiar voice.
“Hey, Em,” he said, rumpled in a wrinkled t-shirt and dark shorts. Even with his long hair messy, Emma’s mouth went dry just looking at him.
“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I … my Dad told me to come check on things because of the papers on the porch.”
“Oh, yeah, thanks. I don’t use the front door, so I forgot about that.” He ran a hand through his hair, and Emma thought he looked sad for just a second.
“Are your parents on vacation?”
“Uh … kind of. They had to go take care of something.”
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
Cole shrugged and stared out a window.
“It’s as okay as it’s gonna get, I guess,” he said.
Emma wished she knew what to say, but the awkward silence just stretched. She knew she should leave, but there was something about standing alone with Cole, having his attention, that made her want to stay.
“Do you ever wonder why some people do what they do?” Cole asked, leaning against the counter. Emma nodded, unsure how to answer. “Sometimes people … they try and try, and it’s never enough. It really sucks.”
“I know what you mean,” she said. “I’ve felt that way myself.”
“There should be a rule somewhere that if people try their hardest, if they cry and hurt and want something so badly – something good – they should get it.”
His expression of sadness was one Emma had never seen on Cole before. He was always easygoing, happy and self-assured. She wondered if he was talking about himself.
“They should,” she agreed. “But if they don’t get it, they should realize it’s not their fault. My Dad sometimes says there can be no rainbow without a cloud and a storm.”
A small smile penetrated his forlorn face.
“Yeah. And I’m leaving for college in a week anyway, so why the hell do I care?” he said.
“Wow, a week?”
“Yeah. Gotta report for football practice.”
“Maybe I’ll get to watch you play sometime.”
“That’d be cool, Em. Thanks for bringing in the papers.”
“You’re welcome. Guess I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, see you around.”
Chapter 8
Now
Emma hoisted the strap of her large tote bag onto her shoulder, picking up her walking pace. Her class at the Jackson Byrne Memorial Shelter started in ten minutes, and she still needed to set up. A last-minute phone call from a client had held her up at the office.
She was glad she’d changed from heels into flats. On her tight schedule, the walk was a workout, especially with her heavy supply bag in tow.
Around a dozen students were already at work when she walked in, and Emma smiled at their creased brows and looks of concentration as they painted. Teaching this class always gave her a high. The students ranged from young to old, but helping someone discover art at any age was a feeling like no other.
“Hi guys,” Emma said as she unpacked supplies on a beat-up card table. “How’s it going?”
There were murmurs and grunts in response, and Emma walked over to look at the canvases on the row of makeshift easels.
“Really nice, Will,” she said softly, squeezing the shoulder of an older man with wild gray hair. He’d put in a lot of work on the landscape of the farm he’d grown up on. Emma enjoyed hearing him talk about it while he worked.
“Jordan,” she said, grinning at a young boy who stood on a step stool that boosted him up high enough to reach his canvas. His pearly white smile was bright against his dark face as he smiled at her.
“Do you like it?” he asked eagerly.
“I love it,” she said, admiring the creature on his canvas that looked half-dog and half-superhero. “Tell me about it.”
“He’s a super hero who got bit by a dog and now he’s turning into one!” Jordan said, his brown eyes wide with enthusiasm.
“You’re so creative,” Emma said, patting his back.
Emma wrinkled her face with concern when she saw a girl she’d been teaching since she started at the shelter six months ago. Maddie was 11, and she was always eager to paint. Today she stared at an empty canvas, looking lost in her thoughts.
“What’s up, Maddie? Not inspired yet?” Emma asked as she approached. Maddie
shrugged. “Is everything okay?”
“She’s sad cause her Mom’s going to jail tomorrow,” Jordan said, looking over at them. Emma’s heart broke for the dark-haired girl she’d become so fond of.
“I’m sorry, Maddie,” she said softly.
“I’m not sad because she’s going to jail,” Maddie said in a small voice. “She did what they said she did. My Mom says the worst thing you can do is lie, and she isn’t going to lie and say she didn’t do it. I’m sad because if she goes to jail she’ll lose custody of me. I don’t want to live in a foster home. I can’t stay here without her. I’m scared.”
Emma sighed heavily as some of the adult students looked over. She brushed her hand over Maddie’s hair, unsure what to say.
“Okay guys, this is a free painting day,” she finally said. “Just paint whatever you’d like and remember to line them up on the windowsill to dry when you’re finished. I have to step out for a minute but I’ll be right back.”
She headed for the office of Scott Lansing, the shelter’s manager, considering how fortunate she’d been to grow up in such a stable home. Maddie would probably have bigger things to consider than just a crush on a boy when she became a teenager.
When she saw Scott staring at a spreadsheet on a computer screen, Emma wasn’t surprised he was working so late. He practically lived at the shelter.
“Hey,” she said, rapping lightly on the wall since his office had no door.
“Emma, come in.” He smiled and pushed the papers on his desk into a stack. Emma had always liked Scott, a gangly man with dark glasses and a blond ponytail. He was warm and thoughtful, and always made time for her.
“Hi, I’ll be quick,” she said. “What’s going on with Maddie’s Mom?”
Scott’s brow furrowed as he exhaled deeply.
“It’s pretty sad, actually,” he said. “Jana’s got court tomorrow because she stole some stuff back when she was still using drugs. It happened before they came here, and she’s been clean for 60 days now. I made a call to the DA’s office, but I didn’t get anywhere. If she takes the plea deal, she’ll get 30 days in jail, and she’ll have to give up custody of Maddie while she’s there. I’m confident we can help her get Maddie back when she’s released, though.”
Now and Then Page 7
