By the time she made it into her bedroom she was pouring another glass. Compounded on top of the wine she’d been drinking all evening, she was feeling good. Sliding her toes in between the cool sheets, Emily reached over to her bedside table and picked up her iPad and opened her reading app. Just that action alone had a smile breaking out on her face. At Amanda’s suggestion, she’d started reading books by a new author and oh wow, they were hot.
Emily had been a little worried that sharing her newfound reading habit with her friend would be weird, but it had turned out to be the opposite. She and Amanda had always been best friends, even when they went months without speaking, or years not living in the same town. They just had one of those special lifelong friendships. But between the wedding planning and the discovered passion they shared for reading sexy books, they’d somewhat reconnected in a new way over the past few weeks. Every day they texted about the book they were reading, discussing the heroine’s motives, the hero’s behavior, and the sex. Obviously.
Emily tucked into bed and read. After a while—and having just read some crazy sexy banter—she glanced at the clock. Which happened to be sitting right next to the now empty champagne bottle. When had she finished all that? And was it almost two in the morning? That was the latest she’d been up on a Saturday in a long time.
Picking up her phone, she scrolled through her photos to find the one image she really should have deleted after Amanda sent it to her. In her defense she’d thought she had deleted it, but then she ended up finding it in the DELETED folder. Apparently phones knew people might act rashly and regret it later. When the image opened, she sighed.
Reeve.
It did her no good to keep staring at his handsome face. None at all. But something about the way the general had indirectly called him a pussy was really eating at her. There was no way Reeve was anything but a badass man. She wasn’t sure what his situation was—and shouldn’t care—but she knew him being a pussy had nothing to do with it.
She hated to think about how she’d walked out on him a second time, but damn, she’d just panicked in the worst way. At least that’s what she convinced herself. The truth was she’d seen an opportunity to run, and she’d taken it, like a complete and utter coward.
Her fingers slid over the phone screen, tapping on the MESSAGES button, and pulling up the one she’d sent Amanda with his phone number and address. She could text him.
No. She shouldn’t.
But if she really wanted to, she could. How many times over this past week had she battled inside over this exact thing? Now he’d soon be going to Natalie’s house. Looking at her landscaping, mowing her yard. Damn it, why did that all sound like it could be dirty?
Before she knew what she was doing, Emily was typing out a message.
EMILY: I’m sorrt I walked out on you. Again.
She hit SEND before processing, or even proofreading. She identified her typo just as the phone made the tone that let her know it had sent.
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit.” Emily sat up in bed and tossed the phone toward her feet into a fluffy pool of cream-colored comforter, as if the physical separation would make the infraction undo itself.
For a long moment she stared at the phone that had landed facedown. Glancing at the clock again, she cringed. It was official, she was ridiculous. Desperate. Stupid.
Leaning over, she picked up the device and typed out another text.
EMILY: Sorry is what I mean. And please just forget this. Sorrt to bother you.
EMILY: Sorry!!
“Shit!” she said once again as the message fired off. “What is wrong with me?”
She was just about to turn the phone off and pretend the entire thing hadn’t just happened when her phone beeped.
Oh God.
She closed her eyes for a moment, hoping that his response wasn’t too awful before finally glancing down at it.
REEVE: Are you drunk dialing me, Whip?
Emily slapped a hand over her mouth, hiding her smile from who and what she wasn’t sure, but smiling she was. He was completely right. She wasn’t in a completely coherent state of mind. Late hour? Check. Empty champagne bottle? Check, check. Lonely woman who secretly wished a certain man was in bed with her? Check infinity.
She’d opened up this can of worms. The question now, was should she drunk reply? Her phone beeped again before her decision was made.
REEVE: If that’s what this is, please feel free to continue.
She grinned. So maybe, possibly, he wasn’t too upset with her for walking out.
EMILY: I’m not drunk.
She was also a liar.
REEVE: Sure.
EMILY: Tonight was my friend’s wedding.
REEVE: Nice. So you were at a wedding and thought of me?
EMILY: No. I was just feeling bad about leaving the other day.
REEVE: That was pretty messed up. Why did you do it?
She hesitated, not quite drunk enough to get too honest, but also wanting to have a legit reason for being that girl.
EMILY: I have issues.
REEVE: We all have issues. But that’s irrelevant for us, because we just have sex.
EMILY: We HAD sex. This is just me apologizing. Nothing more.
REEVE: Whatever you say, drunk texter.
EMILY: I mean it. We had a deal. That was the last time. I just felt bad. So, I’m sorry.
She waited for his response. And waited. She reread her last message. Was it insulting, telling a man you felt bad for leaving his house after sex? She had no idea, but realized it probably was somewhere in the vicinity of insulting.
REEVE: Don’t need your sympathy. I just need you. Again.
Emily sucked in a breath. Again. She could easily just ask him to come over. Right now. One more time. Maybe that would get him out of her system. Then again, was he really telling her he wanted to hook up with her when he’d been smiling and flirty with Natalie just a few days before? Maybe it had been nothing, and she was reading too much into it. Obviously he wasn’t going to turn down business, but what if he might be interested in her CFO? She could hardly hold it against him.
Emily sighed. She should not have started this conversation.
EMILY: I don’t think so. But thank you.
* * *
I don’t think so. But thank you. Really? That was her reply?
Reeve lay in bed chuckling quietly to himself. In a different context, that might have irked him, but the fact that she’d gotten drunk at a wedding and then had the desire to reach out to him made his day. Or night. He’d been grinning at his phone from the moment she’d woken him with her text because he’d gone to sleep hours ago with her on his mind. Just as he had the night before that. Maybe the one before that, too. All the while thinking he’d probably never see her again, trying to think of a way to figure out who she was.
Yet here she was drunk dialing him at almost two in the morning. Sure, she was denying the intoxication, but he knew better. A woman like his Whip didn’t text apologies sober.
REEVE: Can’t blame me for trying. I’ve been thinking about you.
He wasn’t sure how she’d respond to that. Maybe she was done with the conversation and wouldn’t reply at all.
EMILY: You shouldn’t be.
Okay that was a weird response.
REEVE: And why is that?
EMILY: I don’t know. Surely you date other women.
Also odd. Was she fishing for information? Was she jealous?
REEVE: Not often. And what does that have to do with me thinking about you?
EMILY: I don’t know. I think I’m tired.
Man, he wished he could see her face right now. If he FaceTimed, or called even, he wondered if she would allow it. Probably better not to push it right now. He would take things slow, because now the ball was in his court.
REEVE: Why don’t you go to sleep. But think about this . . .
REEVE: I have your number now.
CHAPTER TEN
&n
bsp; Thursday afternoon Emily looked out her office window onto the landscape below. It was gorgeous. The willow tree had been treated and trimmed back and the hardscape moved some distance away to prevent future damage. The new small stone retaining wall curved in a natural pattern around the freshly poured, amoeba-shaped concrete patio. Beyond the walls were flower beds full of daylilies and small blooming shrubs. The beds surrounding the base of the tree held the shade-loving plants, like green and striped hostas. The design was lovely, and although she’d yet to go down and see it at eye level, she could already tell it was a million times better than the previous area. It was pretty enough to be featured in a magazine.
Several employees had already commented to her how much they liked it and couldn’t wait to take their lunches outside when it was finished.
Now it was complete.
She’d just watched the last Big Blue Landscaping truck drive away from the building and get on the highway. Reeve had been driving it.
She sighed and sat down at her desk. All day Sunday she had gone over and over the text conversation she’d initiated with Reeve late Saturday night. Every time she read through their messages she was horrified anew at her ridiculous behavior. The entire thing had set her on edge for the week. First she’d been mad at herself, but at this point she was mad and irritated for a completely different reason.
Emily paged Daniel to her office, knowing she owed him an apology. When he peeked his head into the doorway, a look of apprehension on his face, she sighed. She was better than this.
“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t bite,” she said.
“A week ago I would have agreed with you,” he said with a hesitant smile. “But you’ve not quite been yourself lately.”
“I know, and I want to apologize for that. It’s just been . . . I don’t even know. You said it. I haven’t been myself. I’m not sure why.”
Not entirely true. Part of it was work stress—they were rolling out a new marketing campaign for their new line of independent film showings, and she’d just signed a deal to buy out a small chain in Oklahoma. But damn it, that wasn’t the biggest reason. That honor went to the man she’d been waiting on all week to text her back. Or call. He’d done neither.
“Don’t worry about it. We all go through rough patches,” Dan said.
“We do, but that does not give us permission to be assholes. And I’ve been one. So, I’m going to be better.”
“I appreciate that. Don’t forget, marketing meeting in ten.” With that he left her office and closed the door behind him.
Emily sighed, glad to have gotten that out of her system, because although Daniel was too good an assistant to say it, she been a total bitch the past two days.
All week she’d been waiting to hear from Reeve. Instead she’d come in Monday and had the pleasure of watching him work on her property. Surely he was just exhausted from a day of hauling dirt. Tuesday she checked her phone incessantly and forced herself to stay away from the window. Never heard from him. By Wednesday she was straight-up pissed. Even more so when he hadn’t shown up on-site at the office. Now, today, she was done being irritated with him, and she was furious with herself.
She’d had a one-night stand with a man. Twice. The rules had been very plainly spelled out. By her, no less. They were through and she’d made it very clear to him that’s how she’d wanted it. Emily had even reread her texts, the ones where she’d reminded him that they were not getting together again.
I don’t think so. But thank you.
When she’d reread that line Sunday morning she’d nearly died of embarrassment. Who said that? A snotty drunk woman strung out over a man and who had no idea what she wanted.
Yet despite her insistence—as weak as it was—that they weren’t going to hook up again, she couldn’t stop thinking about his texts. She’d reread them several times a day since she’d received them.
I just need you. Again.
I’ve been thinking about you.
And the foreboding, yet titillating, I have your number now.
The message had been so full of intention, she was still shocked he hadn’t reached out to her by this point. Was that her being stupid? Once again the only thing she failed at was social interaction. Completely typical of her.
A rapid knock sounded on her office door and was quickly followed by Natalie entering in a wave of frustration and expensive perfume.
“Dare I ask?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“I’m a little moody today,” Natalie said, sitting down in the chair across the desk from Emily.
“What happened? The meeting’s still—”
“No, no. Everything’s fine work-wise. In fact, Roy just told me we’re up nineteen percent over this week last year.”
“Excellent,” Emily said. That news definitely helped her mood a little. “Then what’s wrong?”
She almost hesitated to ask. There had been an odd shift in her and Natalie’s working relationship ever since she’d met Reeve. However, not in the way Emily would have expected. Natalie had been talking to Emily the past couple of weeks about everyday normal stuff. Laughing about the show she’d watched the night before, discussing the great new yoga pants she’d purchased. Like they were friends.
“So, I told you Reeve the landscaper was coming by my house this week to take a look at my yard.”
Emily shifted in her seat, not liking where the conversation was heading. She’d been afraid of this from the moment she sniffed Natalie’s perfume. “You did, yes.”
“Well, he came by Monday afternoon and took a look. He made some great suggestions, and I’m going to be honest with you, Emily. You’re my boss and a friend, and while I know you have some sort of past with this guy, I’d really been hoping he was going to ask me out.”
Emily swallowed, forcing herself not to say something she’d regret. “I take it he didn’t?”
“No. He was a complete professional. In fact, he sent a separate crew to work on my yard the past two days.”
“He was busy finishing the project here,” Emily reminded her.
“I know. Trust me I know.” Natalie leaned forward in her seat. “The upside to that was I could watch him from my office window. Don’t judge.”
“Never.” Emily clasped her hands together and rested them in her lap.
“I kept hoping that maybe he’d come in and ask for me, you know? I mean, I’m in the building not even twenty feet away and he’s had a crew at my house. But nothing, all week. So finally this afternoon I decide to go out and just say hi. I mean, it’s Thursday, they should be wrapping my yard up.”
“Mm-hm.” Emily was getting antsy.
“So I go out and say hello, and I decide to just take matters into my own hands. I ask him out.”
Emily felt dizzy. This was it. She might well and truly pass out from jealousy.
“He tells me . . . no. Actually, his exact response was, ‘Normally I would jump at the chance to take you out, but there’s someone else I’m interested in and it wouldn’t be fair to you or her.’”
Emily’s heart skipped. Knowing she should reply, she quickly found appropriate words. “Wow. I guess . . . I mean, that’s nice of him.”
“It is, I suppose. But I’d had no intention in falling in love with the guy, I just wanted to get lucky. It’s been a while.”
“I’m sorry to hear that, Nat.”
“Is it you?”
“Me?” Emily pointed to herself, playing dumb, but she was far from stupid.
“Are you the woman he’s interested in?” Natalie asked. There was no malice in her voice, or even her expression.
Tired of the charade, Emily dropped her shoulders. “Honestly, Natalie, my first guess would be no. But we did sort of talk this past weekend.”
“Sort of talk?”
“I might have . . . drunk texted him Saturday night.”
Emily was relieved when Natalie huffed out a small laugh. “Emily Phillips, drunk texting? That’s hard to imagin
e.”
“Well, it’s a true story. And I’m sorry. I know I pulled you into this drama by making you speak with him, and then saying I wanted nothing to do with him. It also did make me a little jealous when you started talking and getting to know him.”
“I suspected. You put on a good front, especially with your mother there, but I’m in finance. I read people, and your poker face was betraying you that day.”
“Yeah, well, I haven’t heard from him all week since, so maybe there’s an entirely different woman in the picture.”
“Maybe. But you might consider that he really likes you. Maybe you should go out again.”
“We’ve never really even gone out.”
“Well then, what—” Natalie’s eyes widened and then she playfully scowled. “So you’ve gotten exactly what I want. Nice.” Natalie stood up with a loud sigh. “Well, please do me a favor and go out with him when he asks. You might be surprised by what happens.”
“It’s not looking like he’s going to. I still say it could be someone else.”
“I guess we’ll find out. If I’m going to get rejected, I guess I don’t mind getting thrown over for my own boss. Can you believe the two of us are both pining for the landscaper?”
Emily laughed. “See you in the meeting.”
Natalie headed out the door and down the hall. Emily sat back in her chair, trying to process what had just happened. It was hard to believe that Reeve would have turned down a date with a willing and beautiful woman. Maybe the mystery woman wasn’t her, but she still had his messages repeating over and over again in her mind.
I just need you. Again.
I keep thinking about you.
So if that was true, and he’d broken off his date with Natalie, then why the hell hadn’t she heard from him? Was this what karma felt like?
* * *
Emily hit SEND on an email and sighed. It was Friday evening and she was at her desk trying to finish up a few things that could have waited until Monday. Her two options had been to either feel somewhat productive at work, or feel sorry for herself at home. She’d chosen the one that didn’t also give her the option of going to the fridge every fifteen minutes. Too many snacks tended to just make a bad situation worse.
All I Ask Page 13
