Broken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 2)

by Stephanie Vercier

  “Yeah, maybe.” I gather my notebook and bag.

  “Take a day off,” she says, already stepping away from her desk. “We all need one to recharge every now and again.”

  “No, can’t afford to do that,” I reply, up and out of my chair. “Too much to do.”

  She looks at me strangely, like Denny or Stephen or even Michael would when they know something is up. And it is. As much as I want to forget about what happened to Emma, I just can’t.

  EMMA

  “You really don’t have to do this. John and I haven’t even set a date.” It’s the first time I’ve seen Angela in ages, and, in honor of this mini-reunion, she’s taking me wedding dress shopping during a break in my work and school schedule.

  “Just let her,” Jennifer says.

  I’m actually surprised that Angela didn’t have a fit at the last minute inclusion of my old friend, but there is something about Angela that’s different, almost like that therapist of hers made her take a good long look in the mirror and realize the world doesn’t revolve around only her.

  “We aren’t buying anything today,” Angela says, leading the way toward the bridal shop on Queen Anne. She tells us it’s rated as one of the best in Seattle. “And besides, I might want to try one on too. You never know,” she adds, practically batting her eyelashes.

  “So, things with you and Stephen are on the upswing, huh?”

  “They just may be,” she says, flipping her curly blonde locks over her shoulder. “Stephen’s close enough to thirty that he should be ready to settle down.”

  “But you’re only what, nineteen?” Jennifer asks with a horrified expression on her face.

  “Yeah, well, I’ve been partying since I was like thirteen, so I’m kind of over all that. I wouldn’t mind settling down sooner rather than later.”

  “I don’t feel like I even know you,” I tell Angela, surprised she isn’t ripping up the club scene again.

  “Therapy.” One word. That’s all she says and all that’s needed.

  I’m not sure the idea of John and I actually making it to the altar has felt truly real until the moment I’ve slipped on a beautifully simple, pure white A-line dress with an off-shoulder neckline. I can almost picture myself walking down the aisle toward John in it with him in his groom suit, looking gorgeously handsome in my daydreaming mind. I try two more on, but I go back to the first one, sliding into the material and getting a lump in my throat when I model it for Angela and Jennifer.

  “That’s gorgeous, Emma!” Jennifer says.

  “Not bad. That might just be the one,” Angela agrees.

  “Let me take a picture of you in it, okay?” Jennifer takes her phone out, snaps a picture and then texts it to me.

  “What do you guys think I should do?” I’m continuing to model it in front of the mirrors in the dressing room, the sales woman patient but obviously hoping she might make a decent commission today. I’ve got some money saved up, and I’m sure Mom would help with it if I decided to take the plunge.

  “You don’t have to buy it today,” Angela says, loud enough for the sales woman to hear.

  “But wouldn’t it be romantic if you did?” Jennifer asks.

  I take a deep breath, attach the picture to a text and send it to John.

  What do you think?

  “What did you just do?” Angela rushes up to me, looking at my phone.

  “I sent the pic to John,” I say, a little freaked out by the strained expression on her face. “I just wanted his opinion.”

  “Somehow I just knew you would!”

  “I shouldn’t have?”

  “The groom isn’t supposed to see the dress until the ceremony… or so goes the tradition,” Jennifer says without the damnation Angela seemed to be throwing at me.

  “Oh,” I reply, that reality now dawning on me. “I was just excited to show him.”

  “Of course you were.” Angela’s voice is tinged with both sympathy and judgment. “But it’s bad luck, so that dress goes back on the rack.” She eyes the sales woman whose smile is more strained than it was a minute ago.

  As I’m changing out of the dress, I want to cry, but I don’t. Am I really cut out for marriage, especially to a guy like John? I hadn’t even had the forethought to keep from bucking years of tradition in sending that pic to him. Maybe his mother was right about me not being able to make it the long haul with him. I hadn’t even had the heart to tell John about her visit. It just would have upset him more, and I didn’t want to be the reason for any additional strain between them.

  Get a hold of yourself!

  I don’t want to be overcome with doubt, especially not now when so many things are on the line. Taking a few deep breaths, I shimmy back into my skinny jeans and nearly startle when my phone chimes.

  It’s John.

  You look gorgeous. I love it, and I can’t wait to marry you!

  His vote of confidence makes me smile, but the whole bad luck thing Angela mentioned nags at me like I’ve just spoiled a great recipe by adding too much salt.

  I can’t wait either!

  I send the text hoping he won’t somehow see the doubt lying beneath. And then like someone taking a prize given by mistake, the sales woman is waiting right outside the changing room door to take the dress from me.

  “The groom seeing the dress before you walk down the aisle isn’t such a terrible thing anymore,” she says, pressing her card into my hand. “In fact, some of my customers bring their fiancés in with them now. They want the entire process to be a joint effort.”

  “Okay, thank you,” I say, not especially superstitious but not sure I believe in this uptick of men coming in with their brides-to-be either.

  I expect Angela to scold me again, but she’s quiet on the topic and is nice enough to pick Jennifer and I back up after we finish our classes for the day and then drop Jennifer off at home in North Seattle. When she parks outside Stephen’s house in Wallingford instead of just running her car while I get out, I realize she’s looking for an invitation inside.

  “Stephen knows you’re stopping by?” I ask, unsure that an unannounced visit will be good for version 2.0 of their relationship.

  “He will in about thirty seconds,” she says, following behind me.

  “Hey Stephen,” I call out from the hallway. “Angela is with me!”

  “Are you trying to warn him so he can tell whatever hussy he’s hiding in here to get the fuck out?” she asks with sarcasm.

  I shrug and guiltily smile. “Maybe.”

  But of course Stephen has no hussy with him. He’s in the living room with Denny playing video games, and he’s not at all irritated by her just showing up. In less than ten minutes, they’ve already excused themselves to head upstairs.

  “That was fast,” Denny says, tossing his game controller on the coffee table. “I have like two hours of free time, and Angela finds a way to crash it.”

  “At least they’re getting along,” I say, sitting down. “That’s a good thing, right?”

  “If you say so.” He slumps into the couch, looking slightly lost for a moment.

  “Is school overwhelming?” I ask, trying to imagine what Denny’s workload is like.

  “Pretty much. At least I get to see Court since we were both insane enough to choose this profession, but that’s it. I barely see anyone else.”

  “John’s at the legal aid clinic again tonight.” I’m missing him too.

  “Yeah, I guess this is what adult life is like, never seeing your friends.”

  I touch my hand to his knee. “I understand, but I know John will make the time once things settle down.”

  His eyes fall to my hand, and I think he’s about to place his on top of mine until I pull it away.

  “Then you and he will be married,” he says with strain in his voice. “Off having kids and moving to suburbia.”

  “I don’t think so… I mean, about the suburbia thing.”

  “You’re a city girl, huh?”

&nb
sp; “Yes, kind of obvious, right?” I can’t help but giggle. “The city is just so much more alive and a lot less lonely than living in one of those big, quiet subdivisions.”

  He laughs. “And kids? I mean, now that we’re planning your future and all.”

  “Well, someday…”

  He looks at me like he’s waiting for me to say more, but that’s all I’ve got, all I’m willing to share.

  “Well, I guess that’s good,” he finally says. “John never did like the idea of moving back to the east side of the lake like Madison would have insisted on… or starting that perfect family she wanted.”

  “Do you still wish they were together?” I’m slightly irritated at Denny bringing her up, but I’m curious to know if he agrees even a little bit with Mrs. Mercer that Madison remains the right girl for her son.

  “Sorry,” he says. “I shouldn’t have brought her up, but to answer your question… no. Not anymore at least. But, if I’m being honest, I wouldn’t put it past John’s mom to try to make it happen against all odds.”

  I’m somewhat relieved that Denny isn’t loyal to Team Madison, but the mention of Mrs. Mercer makes me bristle. “She came to see me, you know?”

  “His mom?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s not surprising,” he says with a glum face. “Did she tell you that you weren’t good enough for him?”

  “Pretty much.” I nearly laugh at the strangeness of it. “She was kind of awful, but sometimes I wonder if I can handle all of this. I don’t ever want to be an embarrassment to John.”

  “You? An embarrassment?” Denny sits up and takes both of my hands, holding them in his. “You are far and above better than any of those people. It’s all about perception with them. You know, John’s dad is like one to me too, but he’s got his faults, and then his mom is a serious puppet master. Why else do you think Michael is in New York and John’s sister is off on an extended jaunt across the world?”

  “Sarah,” I say, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to meet her.

  “Yes, that’s her, flown the coop. John’s the youngest, and his mom has always pinned all of her hopes on him. He’s the baby, the golden child, and she can’t seem to let him… or her perfect vision of his future go.”

  With a heavy sigh, I pat Denny’s hand while pulling mine away. “So, what should I do? If his mom and Madison keep coming for me, and if they… well, if they find weaknesses in me, are John and I doomed?”

  “You’ll only be doomed if you let them win, and John will really disappoint me if he allows them to break you up. And if that happens, then I don’t mind being your consolation prize.” He says this final thing with seriousness, no trace of that smile I’d seen on him when we’d first met.

  “I don’t like you saying stuff like that. It’s self-deprecating.”

  He eases and allows out some laughter. “Yeah, maybe it is. But at least you’ll have a back up plan.”

  “But—”

  “And I don’t mind being your back up,” he says with resolution.

  I’m trying to imagine that Denny is just being a friend, that his offer is one given without a great deal of thought. But if he really feels that way, can I always trust he’ll have John’s and my best interest at heart?

  “Please don’t tell John what I said about his mom, okay?”

  “I won’t,” he assures me.

  I smile. “Do you want to play?” I eye the controller on the coffee table Stephen abandoned and the big screen TV on the wall where some military war game is paused.

  “You a gamer?” He looks shocked.

  “Not really, but I can be taught.”

  “Let’s do it then.” An easiness returns to him.

  As I learn how to go on missions and destroy my enemy, which happens to be some made up country in Europe, I wonder if I’ll learn anything that will help me at least guard against John’s family and the attacks that I know will eventually come.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  JOHN

  If I weren’t getting some sense that what I was doing here wasn’t helpful, I’d get up, walk out of the legal clinic office and drive as fast as I could home to Emma. The time she and I have together never seems like enough. I’m always missing her, which makes it hard to focus on school and clinic work. But I know that being apart is healthy, that we both need to have lives that fulfill us separately, or at least that’s what Mr. Chambers seemed to tell me he wanted for his daughter. But I don’t know. There are times I’d gladly give up a good deal more of my personal fulfillment just to spend a few more minutes each day with Emma.

  “Is this day ever going to end?” Shannon grabs a chair and pulls it up to my desk, plopping down in what is probably very literal exhaustion.

  “We’ve got at least another hour of paperwork.” I check my wristwatch just to be sure. “And then I’m back here tomorrow night.”

  “You too?” She shakes her head. “How in the hell do they talk us into taking all these extra shifts when we don’t even get paid?”

  “Gluttons for punishment I guess.”

  Shannon looks up, appearing to take interest in someone, and for a moment I’m hopeful it might be Emma here for another surprise visit. But the smile that had been forming on my lips quickly falters when I see Madison.

  “Incoming,” Shannon says as Madison makes a beeline for my desk, sliding her manicured hand down her blonde hair before stopping in front of me.

  “Am I interrupting?” she asks, throwing a semi-nasty glare toward Shannon.

  I sigh, wondering when Madison’s intrusions in my life will ever end. “This is Shannon O’Malley,” I say, standing up. “And she works here, so yeah, you kind of are.”

  “It’s fine,” Shannon says, popping up from her chair. “Paperwork awaits!” Before she disappears, I swear there’s a spark of recognition between her and Madison—probably just sizing each other up.

  “That didn’t take long,” Madison says with a smirk.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Already moving on from Emma? I figured she wouldn’t be much more than a flash in the proverbial pan.”

  “You really don’t know me at all,” I reply, annoyed as all hell. “Shannon is a classmate and co-worker. That is all. So, don’t even try to make it into something it isn’t.”

  “You doth protest too much. If you and Emma are so secure, a simple no regarding this Shannon person would have sufficed.”

  Exasperation overwhelms me. “Just tell me what you want, Madison. I don’t have time for whatever game you’re trying to play.”

  “Fine,” she says, walking toward the chair Shannon vacated, sitting down and crossing her long legs. “I have some news that I thought prudent to share with you.”

  Begrudgingly I sit back down. “And what might that be?”

  She smiles easily. “Remember when I told you that Emma wasn’t as innocent as you thought?”

  I shake my head and let out a cutting laugh. “Yeah, and I didn’t care then what you had to say about her, and I don’t care about it now. Your opinion of her matters absolutely zero to me.”

  She looks at me as though she has the upper hand. “Oh, really? Well, it’s not my opinion you should be worried about but rather the fact that Emma, the girl you threw me overboard for, had sex with one of her high school teachers. He went to jail for that, John, and now he’s getting out… or maybe he’s already gotten out. I mean, how do you even get yourself wrapped up with girls like this?”

  Anger wells up in me before I can even think to question Madison about how she could possibly know this.

  “Cat got your tongue?” she asks innocently.

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing,” I snarl, my jaw clenched and my face surely a shade of unnatural red, “but if you do anything to hurt Emma, I’ll make sure you pay for it.”

  She laughs softly, like she doesn’t have a care in the world. “John, I’m not doing this to hurt you, and you can be as angry as yo
u want, but at the end of the day, you’ve gotten in bed with someone who is really, really messed up.”

  “Please just leave, Madison,” I say, my fists clenched and my desire to pummel something growing with every moment she remains in this room.

  “I’ll leave.” She gets up and brushes her skirt, like she’s picked up some grime just being here among people she’d refer to as part of the lower class. “But when you calm down, I’m just a phone call away. You’ll come to your senses, John. I’m sure of it.”

  The only thing I’m sure of as Madison makes her way out of the clinic—several of the male staff members and clients eyeing her as she does—is that I’m feeling something very close to hate for her right now. She hadn’t been that nasty when we first got together, hadn’t shown that side of herself until I started saying no to the way in which she organized and controlled our lives. It’s no wonder she’s working at a public relations firm. Controlling situations is her calling.

  “What the hell was that about?” Shannon asks, appearing back at my desk.

  “Ex-girlfriend,” I say.

  “Doesn’t look like she wants to be the ex.”

  “It’s stupid. She could have anyone she wants.”

  “When that’s the case, they usually want what they can’t have… and in this situation, that appears to be you.”

  I shake my head, wishing Madison would just leave me the hell alone but more concerned about how she got a hold of that information on Emma. While the case itself is public knowledge, Emma’s identity shouldn’t be.

  “I better get this paperwork done,” I tell Shannon, not wanting to be rude, but not feeling much like talking.

  “Oh, of course,” she says. “Just wanted to check in on you. Back to the grind.”

  Pushing what Madison said out of my mind, I attempt to focus on getting some work done. I’m just about finished when I get a text from Emma.

  Denny offered to drive me over and drop me off so you and I could ride back to the house together. Silly, but I miss you.

  Her message makes me smile.