That’s a lie. I am Bastain’s Emma. That’s who I am.
I think back to the way I felt two days ago when I got the email from Cameron Inc. about the interview. It was as if I’d won the lottery. I jumped out of the chair and squealed like a teenager, high fiving the empty air. Then I thanked God no one else was home to see my excitement. Poor Gatsby didn’t know what was going on, but he yapped and celebrated right along with me. We might have even danced in the middle of the living room. It was an amazing feeling, the acceptance. They said they were impressed with my resume and would like to speak to me about a management position. This has to be a fluke. I don’t have a resume. I have a degree and one job in my employment history- one. I handled all of the accounts for a major telecommunications company all the way through college and up until six months after the accident. I was a model employee, and I had a multitude of accomplishments. I had a future. But, after the that night, everything changed. My life changed. A lot of lives changed. I haven’t set foot in an office other than Bastain’s in almost six years. I’m not a businesswoman anymore. I am Bastain’s Emma now. But I have to do this. I have to walk into that interview and make them believe what I walk out onto the street and make everyone else believe. I’m not lost. I’m not afraid. I’m secure. I’m confident. I’m capable.
I’ll wear the outfit and force the smile, and I’ll play the part to perfection. It shouldn’t be too hard. I’ve been doing it for years.
“Why do you need a job, Em? Don’t I give you enough? Don’t I make you happy?” Bastain asks, his voice pained as he runs his fingers down my bare arm.
I knew telling him about the interview would upset him. I don’t know what made me think I could even get away with it. I help him at his dealership. I take care of things around the house. I’m here when he needs me. That’s my job. That’s what I need to do. “You give me more than I deserve.”
It’s the truth. I destroyed his life. I broke him, and he still took me in. He loved me regardless of my mistakes. I nestle into his chest and let the guilt consume me. Guilt for wanting more, for thinking what I have isn’t enough. He kisses the top of my head then presses the button on the remote, turning up the volume on the basketball game. The conversation is over. He’s reset my mentality right back to where he wants it. He’s made his point, and it’s not open for discussion.
Alex
I haven’t seen Heidi Lemaire since the night I told her I was coming to Miami, right after she called me by my best friend’s name while I was settled between her thighs. I don’t blame either one of them for what happened. Heidi never made any promises or gave me false hope. I knew what she wanted… and what she didn’t want, right from the start. She was straightforward from the beginning. I’m the one who let my feelings get in the way. It was obvious what they had was so much more than she ever wanted with me. So, I conceded. I held up the white flag, and I let her go. And I’ve spent the last year making damn sure that doesn’t happen again.
Now here she is, walking hand in hand through the coffee shop with him. Nick called me last week to let me know they’d be in town for the day. He is in between sessions and wanted to take advantage of the rare break. As a United States Senator, he doesn’t have a lot of room in his schedule for letting off steam. They’re on their way to the Bahamas and wanted to stop and say hello. I thought the sight of them together would affect me more than it does. But, as I sit at my usual table in the corner watching her move toward me with a radiant smile on her face, I am content. She looks happy. He looks happy. And it doesn’t seem to bother me even a fraction as much as I thought it would. I return their smiles and wave them over, standing to greet Heidi with a hug as she walks up.
She’s every bit as beautiful as I remember. Her dirty blonde hair falls over her shoulders, and her bright yellow strapless dress glows against her tan skin. She runs her hand over the top of my head with wide eyes. “Wow. No more curls?”
“Trying something new,” I reply, a bit surprised her touch doesn’t excite me the way it used to.
She cocks her head and examines me a minute. “I like it.”
Nick pulls out her chair then shakes my hand as he takes his seat beside her. “I always thought you used the curls to get women,” he says with a chuckle.
“Oh yeah? I was sure it was the dimples.” I finish my sentence with a cheesy grin aimed at Heidi for emphasis. She laughs.
“He’s got a point, baby,” Heidi says to Nick. He puts his arm over the back of her chair, mindlessly rubbing circles on her shoulder then rolls his eyes.
They are perfectly comfortable together. He touches her like his hands were made just for that purpose. She tilts her head to one side as he glides his fingertip up the side of her throat. I want this. This connection they have. I thought I was content with my routine. I thought going to work, teaching my classes at the gym, and having dinner at a table for one was enough to satisfy me. I never imagined I’d want more after the pain I felt when Heidi broke me. But, here she is, sitting across from me with the man who stole her heart, and all I can do is wish she were someone else, someone with platinum blonde hair and an affection for nonfat lattes. And that I was the one touching her that way.
“So, when are you gonna pack your bags and move into the White House?” I take a sip of my black coffee and watch as their eyes meet with some secret I’m not privileged to know.
“Three years ‘til the next election. You might see a familiar name on the ballot,” Nick says with a wink.
“You’re shitting me.”
He and Heidi share a smile. “Nope. Just have a few things to take care of first.” He locks eyes with her, sending an instant blush to her cheeks. There’s no twinge of jealousy, no resentment. I have no reaction to their affection other than joy. And hope. Hope to one day have what they have. All I have to do is find her again.
Nick gets a phone call and excuses himself from the table, leaving me alone with Heidi. There’s no uncomfortable silence or awkwardness you’d expect from two ex-lovers. I’m not bitter with her for her choice. After all, I helped her make it. Seeing the two of them together like this assures me it was the right thing to do.
“So, he’s really going to do it, huh?”
Her face lights up with a proud smile. “Yes, I guess he is.”
“Heidi Lemaire- from single mom to first lady- now that’s a story worth telling, love.”
“He hasn’t won yet, Alex.”
“No. But he will. We both know that. Nick Knight doesn’t know how to lose.” I didn’t mean for the comment to come out the way it did. I wasn’t referring to her or our situation. It was a simple observation of my best friend, but it makes her uncomfortable. She shifts in her seat, so I reassure her with a smile. “I’m glad you’re happy. Both of you. You both deserve it.”
“Well, even if he does win, I’m not exactly First Lady material,” she says, holding her left hand up as she wiggles her fingers. “Last time I checked, you have to share the President’s last name for that title.”
They’ve been together almost two years, raising his daughter and her son. They share a home, and go through all the motions, but he’s been reluctant to take that next step. There’s a sadness in her tone that makes me feel sorry for her. I don’t let the feeling linger too long, though, because I happen to know Nick planned this vacation with the intention of proposing.
“Formalities, love,” I reply with a wink, “Be patient with him. He’ll get there.”
I’ve been dreading this day since I got the phone call letting me know they were coming. I haven’t seen the two of them together since a political party at Nick’s house in New Orleans. That’s a night I’ll never forget. He walked in on me helping Heidi with her dress and got the wrong idea. I left with a busted lip and a black eye, and the two of them didn’t speak for months. That was a different time, and we were all different people then. I didn’t know what to expect from today, but I’m relieved to know this woman doesn’t have the same power ov
er me she used to. I guess time does heal the broken-hearted.
Then, as if fate has finally decided to give me a break, I hear the barista call out, “Venti nonfat vanilla latte.” You’ve gotta be kidding me. I’ve been to this cafe every day for the past month and today- now- is when she decides to show up. Awesome. Heidi starts to speak but all I hear is static as my eyes race to the woman headed to pick up her coffee. It’s her. My stomach flops.
“Erm, sorry, love. But… will you excuse me for just a moment?”
I don’t give her time to answer before I am out of my chair and on my way to the counter to meet her.
Alex
She’s out the door before I can reach her. It’s not like I know her name, so I can’t call out after her. Shit. She seems like she’s in a hurry. Stop. Just… stop, and wait for me. Please.
“Wait,” I call out, not knowing what else to say.
She stops, her back to me, and stands there for a moment. She doesn’t turn around right away and part of me is desperate to run up and grab her hand, pull her toward me. I need to see her face, to make sure she’s okay. But I don’t want to startle her or make her feel threatened. Turn around, love. I wait, heart racing, blood pumping, as she straightens her shoulders and turns her head. Finally.
“Hi,” she says, uncertain whether to walk toward me or stay where she is.
Well, she’s not running. That’s a good sign. I take a step forward and she watches carefully, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. I take another step. She moves only to turn her body to face me.
“Hey,” I reply when I’m finally standing right in front of her. She smells delicious, like sunshine and citrus. She swallows hard then looks out across the street, for what, I don’t know. “I wasn’t sure I’d see you again.” God, I sound desperate. And who knows, maybe I am. A smile tugs at her lips as she looks back at me.
“Same here. I want to thank you again for…”
She stops herself before she finishes, like the memory of that night tortures her. I know what it does to me, so I can only imagine how she feels.
“You’re welcome.” I don’t make her finish. She doesn’t have to relive it for me. I just want to take her in my arms and hold her there. I can’t stand the thought of her walking away again.
“You should probably go. You don’t want to keep her waiting,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper as she nods her head toward the coffee shop window.
What? Who? Huh? Ohhhhhh. Heidi. Fuck. She thinks we’re together.
“So, you’re stalking me now?” I tease, trying to ease some of the tension in the air. Why is she so nervous? You don’t have to be afraid of me, sweetheart.
She smiles. “Pretty sure you’re the one who ran out here like a crazy person after me. I’m just here for the coffee,” she jokes back.
“Typical stalker response,” I reply, with a cheeky grin. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head. She has dimples. How fucking cute is that?
“Besides, I barely even recognized you. With the new look and all…” I narrow my eyes in question and she reaches forward, running a hand over the top of my head, stopping on the back just above the nape of my neck. “You got rid of the curls.”
I’m frozen in place, feet nailed to the ground, held captive by her touch. I don’t want to move for fear she might pull her hand away. I don’t think she realizes what she’s doing to me right now. But I do. My body does. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I clench my jaw to keep the low growl from escaping my throat. I can’t help myself. It just… happens. I reach forward and take the rim of her sunglasses, pulling them from her eyes. I need to see her. I need to touch her. I rest them on top of her head then run my thumb over her now healed brow bone. She closes her eyes for a split second, taking in a deep breath. When she opens them she quickly drops her hand to her side, and I almost pout at the loss of her touch. I trace my thumb down the side of her face to her jaw as she exhales slowly then looks away again.
I move my hand from her face, tucking it in my pant pocket to protect myself from the urge to lock my fingers in her hair, pull her forward, and kiss her stupid. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… I just wanted to see how you were healing.” Dammit. Way to fuck it up, Romeo.
“It’s okay.” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, and I clench my fist in my pocket. It’s taking everything I have not to touch her again. “I’m all healed up, thanks to you. The doctor said it could have been worse if you hadn’t found me.” Her eyes go distant then fall to the ground, like she’s remembering something painful. Desire turns to curiosity, then to anger, as I imagine what she must have gone through- what she must still be going through. She clears her throat and looks up at me with a weak smile. Then she pulls her sunglasses back down over her eyes and straightens her shoulders. I’m starting to learn this must be a focus mechanism of hers. As if she’s positioning herself to conquer an obstacle, either mental or physical. “But, I’m a lot more careful now. I’m sure it won’t happen again.”
“It always happens again, love,” I tell her, more concern in my tone than I meant to express.
“I should go,” she says, and my heart falls to my stomach. I have completely botched this up. I’ve been waiting weeks to see her again. Now she’s here, and I’m scaring her away by bringing up secrets she’d rather keep hidden. She hasn’t even walked away yet, and I miss her already.
“She’s not here with me,” I blurt out, not even sure why. I just needed to say something, anything, to keep her here a minute longer. She tilts her head, pondering what the hell I’m talking about, then smiles when it hits her.
“So, you make a habit of sharing your table with lonely women, then?” She says, referring to the first time we met. “Well, aren’t you just the perfect gentleman?”
I shake my head and laugh. “She’s here with my best friend.” I nod my head to the window. Nick has returned to the table and is currently tucking a lock of stray hair behind Heidi’s ear. She watches them with the same look in her eye that I do, like she’s longing for what they share.
“I really need to go,” she repeats, her voice drenched in a sadness I know all too well. She looks back at me and shrugs. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she doesn’t really want to leave. She wants to stay here and sit with me, let me touch her again. The way Nick is touching Heidi. The way I want to touch her. Something, or someone, is pulling her away. And the thought that it’s the same someone who hurt her, tears me up inside.
“Wait… I never got your name…”
She tosses her coffee cup in the trash can on the sidewalk and peeks over her shoulder as she walks away. “Emma. My name is Emma.”
Emma
Not that I want him to be alone, but I’m surprisingly relieved to hear the gorgeous blonde sitting across the table from him is here with someone else. I want to ask him his name too. I want to go inside, meet his friends, and watch him laugh again as we all indulge in a lazy afternoon. His smile is infectious and his laughter contagious. I want him to walk me out, his hand gently resting on the small of my back, then give him my number. Then I want to check my phone before bed, hoping to find a text from him telling me how much he enjoyed today. I want to feel his soft touch against my skin again. And again. But it doesn’t matter what I want, because none of those things can ever happen. I take one final look around, praying Bastain hasn’t followed me. Then I keep moving forward, walking the two miles back to his dealership, wondering what if. What if I actually had a choice? What if I didn’t have to spend the rest of my life paying for my mistakes? What if there’s more to my life than I’ve made myself believe? What if I left?
“Hi, mom. It’s me.”
“Em? Is everything okay?”
I call my mother once a week. We text every day, but the phone calls- those are reserved for Sundays after church. Today is Wednesday, and I find myself needing to hear her voice. I don’t want her to know I’m upset. The scratch in my throat must have given me away.
I’m trying to hold it together, but it feels like I’m falling apart. I feel like my life is made of sand, and no matter how hard I try to take hold of it, the tiny grains keep slipping through my fingers. My mother has always been the mold to help put me back together. She’s my voice of reason, my bright side.
“I feel lost, momma. I don’t know what to do.”
I can almost feel her arms wrapping around me as she rubs my hair. The sound of her voice seems to calm the storm around me, even though she’s miles away. I’d give anything to be near her again, to have lunch at her country club with all her church lady friends, and help her with her flowerbeds on a Saturday afternoon. I moved from Tampa to Miami when I graduated from college. The company I worked for at the time had offered me an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. My future was bright, and we were both excited about it. I promised I’d visit her and my dad as much as I could. Then, after that fateful Friday night over five years ago, I became indebted to Bastain. He became my world. Everything and everyone else disappeared. She’s never understood why I feel the way I feel. I don’t expect her to. I don’t expect anyone to. It’s not something you can understand until you’ve lived it, until it’s happened to you.
“Oh, my baby girl, what’s going on?”
How do you tell your mother you’re questioning every decision you’ve ever made over the past five years? How do you admit you may have made the wrong choice? How do you tell your mother the man you gave up everything for has betrayed you in ways you never thought he would?
“Bastain and I… We aren’t… He isn’t…” I can’t tell her everything. I can’t let her worry from so far away. “I think I made a mistake, mom.”
I hear her sigh on the other end of the line. “Emma, honey, people fight. Couples argue. That’s the way love works.” No, mom. Not like this. This isn’t the way love works.
The Perfect Gentleman Page 6
