She waited for some sort of snarky comeback, but none came. Instead, Carter let out a breath and reached for his coffee, taking a long drink. When he was finished, he carefully put the mug back down and said, “I’m going to grab a shower and then walk around and do a little shopping for lunch. Want to join me?”
Seriously? That’s all he had to say? Emery was about to say just that when Carter reached out and put a finger over her lips.
“Uh-uh-uh,” he said with a grin. “I never said I was ready to talk about the cookbook project or that I was going to work on it at all. It’s early, I’ve barely had my coffee, and I already had my weekend all planned out.” He took his finger away before leaning in a bit closer. “And none of those plans involved you.”
“How is that even—”
His finger was back over her lips.
“Be ready in thirty minutes,” he said and then walked away before she could say anything else.
Once Emery heard his bedroom door close, she felt conflicted.
Go out shopping with Carter? Ugh. Food shopping had never been her thing. But if she went with him, she’d get a glimpse into his process and maybe it would help her help him with the cookbook.
The idea had merit.
Honestly, it wasn’t that the recipes and files he sent for the book were bad. Most people wouldn’t give them a second thought except to be a little in awe of or intimidated by them. But after speaking to Eliza, Emery knew what she had envisioned and nothing Carter had sent was it.
Eliza wanted a cookbook that was specifically for the holidays and would fit every family—not just the super wealthy. She wanted something that said home and family and Christmas. It was important that the book give a sense of love and be filled with stories and recipes to remind readers of traditions and the emotions they evoked.
It was a tall order for a cookbook.
And clearly a tall order for a man who was doing the project under protest.
But she was up for the challenge. And while her first thought this morning was to call Eliza and find out why it was that Carter genuinely seemed confused about her presence here at the condo, Emery decided there was no need to involve her. This was something they could work out on their own as two mature adults.
Carter opened up his door and called out, “I suggest you get moving if you’re going shopping with me! And just so you’re prepared, we’ll be hitting numerous fresh markets and will be doing a lot of walking. Wear comfortable shoes!”
She heard the door shut again and sighed.
Fresh markets? Walking? Couldn’t he just order his food online like a normal person? Why did they have to walk all over the city and go to multiple stores? Couldn’t they find everything in one place?
This was Carter Montgomery she was dealing with.
Of course he was going to make a production out of a simple shopping trip.
Stretching, Emery contemplated being lazy for a little while longer and making Carter wait for her. Unfortunately, she knew he wouldn’t and she needed to get him onboard with the things she had planned for the cookbook revisions. If she went into this looking to tick him off, they’d spend the bulk of their time arguing and nothing would get accomplished. And really, it wasn’t any way to thank Eliza for being the only person in her life who actually took her predicament seriously and offered her a solution.
And refuge.
Even if said refuge came with Carter attached to it.
Beggars couldn’t be choosers, right?
Resigning herself to the fact that she was going to have to play nice, she made her way back to her room, picked out an outfit, and went to take a shower. Her mind was spinning with how she was going to pull off being interested in watching Carter choose produce and whatever else he had in mind for this little excursion. But if she’d learned anything in the last two years with Derek, she’d learned how to fake it.
Smiles, interest, and orgasms.
Ugh… Why even go there? Smiles and interest she had mastered a long time ago and it would definitely help her while working on this project. But the orgasms? Um, yeah, that had nothing to do with Carter. And while she knew it wasn’t fair to judge, there was a part of her that sort of categorized both men in the same way. They were both very attractive, very charismatic, and knew how to schmooze to get their own way. Well, she’d let herself get fooled by one; it wasn’t going to happen again. And besides, she knew Carter pretty well. At least on the surface. She knew all his lines and all the ways he tried to get the best of her and she was ready for them. There was no way she would let him win with this project.
They were going to argue. He was going to make excuses. And Emery was certain there would be many, many times when they would want to strangle one another. It wasn’t anything new. She’d lost count of how many times he’d infuriated her back in school. Even the thought of some of those incidents brought a sense of rage. Yes, that was the emotion she had come to relate to Carter and it seemed like time apart had done little to dim it.
Either way, she would deal with it. Why? Because she was an adult. She’d dealt with a cheating, disgusting man she had almost married. Compared to Derek, Carter would feel like a walk in the park.
At least, that was what she was going to keep telling herself. Why? Because his mother deserved to get what she wanted and Emery would do whatever it took to make that happen.
Even if it meant faking smiles and interest at a farmers’ market.
Chapter 2
They were on their third farmers’ market and had easily walked about five miles. Carter hid his grin behind a melon as he watched Emery huff with annoyance for the tenth time in so many minutes.
It wasn’t as if he was doing this to torture her—although it was certainly a perk—this was just how he shopped and what he had planned to do all along. Granted, he could have just gone out by himself, but…
“You know, by the time you finish shopping for lunch, it’s going to be dinner time,” Emery murmured as she walked over and examined the display of fruit.
Carter looked at her. Her hair was up under a baseball cap, she had on a huge pair of sunglasses, and if he had to guess, he’d say she’d picked out one of the least flattering outfits she owned—long baggy shorts and a T-shirt that was about three sizes too big for her. They hadn’t had regular contact for many, many years, but with all the pictures of her in the news lately, he knew she tended to dress way more stylishly than this. For the last two hours he’d been fighting the urge to say something about it, but he wasn’t sure what.
His stomach growled, and while it would have been great to shop a little longer, he had all the ingredients he wanted for lunch. Glancing around, he spotted a booth selling baked goods and realized dessert would be a definite treat.
“I’m going to head over and grab some pastries for dessert. Any requests?”
But Emery wasn’t looking at him. Her eyes were trained on something several rows over and she’d gone pale.
“Emery?”
Turning her head toward him, she was about to say something but then seemed to change her mind before returning her attention in the same direction. If Carter wasn’t mistaken, she looked ready to bolt. He took a step toward her and spoke her name again.
“Um…no requests,” she said quickly, moving away from him. “As a matter of fact, I’m… I mean, I’ve got a bit of a headache. I’ll grab a cab back to the condo. Don’t rush on my account.”
“Emery, wait,” he said, reaching for her. “I’ll go with you. We don’t need dessert. We can just—”
“Brownies!” she said, but she was already several feet away. “I’d love some brownies. I’ll see you later!”
Setting the melon back down, he tried to go after her when the entire display rolled off the table, landing at his feet. Cursing wildly in between apologizing to the owners, Carter looked up and realized Emer
y had vanished into the crowd. It took several minutes to get the melon mess cleared up and by the time everything was back in place, he knew it would be pointless to run after her. No doubt she was already in a cab and well on her way back to the condo.
He looked around and wondered what could have spooked her. Knowing Emery like he did, it was doubtful a headache would have caused that kind of reaction. And besides, she would have mentioned having one several times in hopes of moving him along. No, this wasn’t about her not feeling well as much as it was something or someone that had made her want to flee. Not that he could begin to imagine what, because there were so many people milling about and he had no real idea about her life and…
“I’m losing my mind,” he grumbled, apologizing again to the fruit owners. He handed them a fifty to cover any lost produce and made his way over to the bakery booth. Maybe if he plied Emery with brownies, she’d tell him what the hell had just happened. The sheer amount of sweet confections was overwhelming, so not only did he purchase two brownies, but he got a variety of Italian cookies, a couple of croissants, and two fruit danishes.
Mainly because he thought she’d enjoy him being a bit of a smartass.
With a sense of purpose, Carter strode out of the market area and hailed a cab. No way was he going to walk with all the food he had purchased and knowing that answers awaited him at home. Of course, it still took him longer than he wanted to get there, but once he paid the driver, he all but sprinted into the building and prayed the elevator wouldn’t take too long.
He burst through the front door, then slammed it shut, and almost felt bad when he saw Emery jump. Placing the shopping bags down on the kitchen island, he stepped across the room to her. “Want to explain to me what happened back there?”
Her eyes went wide. “I—I told you. I had a headache. I just took something for it and…and I’m starting to feel better.” She looked toward the kitchen. “So, what are we making for lunch?”
“Peanut butter and jelly,” he said, his voice low and calm.
“Peanut butter and—” She looked at him like he was crazy. “But you bought the shrimp and crabmeat, the artisan bread, and all kinds of other stuff. Why aren’t you making something with that?”
“Answer my question first.”
“I already told you.”
Taking a step toward her, he growled, “The truth, Emery.”
In all the years they’d known each other—and all the years they’d gone head to head with one another—never before had he seen Emery Monaghan deflate before his eyes like she did right then.
And it made him feel like he’d kicked a puppy.
Before she spoke, she sat down on one of the massive sofas and let her head fall back against the cushions.
“First, I want you to admit that you could have gotten everything you wanted to use for lunch at the first market,” she said with her eyes shut.
Unable to help himself, he smirked. “I disagree.”
Emery lifted her head and glared at him.
“Okay, fine. I probably could have gotten everything there, but I’m glad we went to the others because I found even better stuff at each of them.”
Resting her head back again, she took a moment before saying anything. “I’ve been staying inside since the story about Derek first broke. Back home…” She shuddered. “It was awful. The press was relentless and I had zero privacy.”
There was nothing Carter could say. He’d never experienced anything remotely like it, so he nodded and sat on the edge of the sofa across from her.
“I had to climb over the fence in my backyard and go to a neighbor’s house to have my mother pick me up so I could get away undetected.” She let out a snort of derision. “Everyone wanted a comment from me, but there was no way I was going to speak publicly. I couldn’t. I was angry and embarrassed and just…ugh. I was mortified by the whole thing.”
Another nod. Not that it mattered. She wasn’t even looking at him.
“It didn’t take long for the press to start sniffing around my parents’ place, my office—they were everywhere. I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. It was like being trapped.” She paused and finally turned her head to look at him. “Then your mother called.”
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.
“I had run into her at the nail salon about a month prior to…well, you know. Anyway, she reached out and asked if I needed anything.” Emery gave him a small smile. “Don’t get me wrong, I had friends who all made the same call and offered to help out, but I knew your mother was being genuine.”
“And your friends weren’t?”
She shrugged. “I can’t really explain it. Most of my friends are Derek’s friends too. It all just felt…awkward. I was already getting pressure from my parents and from Derek’s lawyers to make an appearance with him and show my support.” Sitting up, she cried, “Can you believe them? I was supposed to show my support of the man who did disgusting things to all those women on top of cheating on me! What was there to support?”
“Emery…”
But she wasn’t listening. Standing, she began to pace. “Your mother calling was like a lifeline for me. She could hear in my voice how stressed I was and offered me the opportunity to come and stay here. On one hand, I felt guilty for considering it, but on the other, I was desperate and thankful to have the option.”
As much as he hated to ask, he had to. “And how did the whole cookbook project play into this?”
“I kept saying how guilty I felt and how I didn’t want to take advantage of her. We talked about how I had to take a leave of absence from my job because all the media attention was causing too many issues at the office. I was at a loss for something to do and couldn’t really afford not to work.” She looked at him helplessly. “That’s how I ended up here.”
Crap. So he was basically stuck with her or would end up being the world’s biggest jerk.
Not going to focus on that right now.
“I’m guessing you saw someone you didn’t want to see at the farmers’ market,” he said after she had been quiet for a minute.
Nodding, she replied, “One of Derek’s attorneys, with his wife.” She sighed. “I don’t think he recognized me—probably didn’t even see me—but I’m not ready for anyone to know where I am.”
That was a little shocking. “So…no one knows you’re here other than my mother?”
“I told my parents I was going to Martha’s Vineyard.” She shrugged. “We vacationed there when I was growing up, so it seemed like a plausible place I’d escape to.”
Sliding down the arm of the sofa until he was on a cushion, Carter raked a hand through his hair. “Wow. Emery, I—I had no idea.” He paused. “They’ve got to be worried about you.”
“I don’t think so. Derek’s like some sort of god in their eyes. They loved the idea of having a politician in the family.”
“And after all these allegations?”
Another shrug. “Boys will be boys.”
“What? How is that possible? How could they not care? Especially when it involves their own daughter!”
“Like I said, they love the idea of a politician in the family and believe Derek is the innocent victim of some sort of witch hunt.”
“And you don’t?”
She laughed. Like a near-hysterical sort of laugh. When she looked at him, she wiped a tear of mirth from her eye. “Carter, this isn’t the first time Derek’s been accused of this sort of behavior. Hell, it’s not the first time he’s been caught cheating!”
Now he was angry. Like seriously pissed off. “Then why would you stay with him?” he yelled. “Were you so in love with the guy you were willing to put up with his bad behavior? Hell, my sister Megan dated a guy who was a real class act—not quite as bad as your ex, but there’s enough similarities that I can see. And she walked away. It was hard and it
messed with her self-esteem for a while, but she was strong enough to do it.”
All of a sudden, he realized what he was saying and the whole kicking the puppy thing immediately came back to him.
“Emery, what I mean is—”
She held up a hand to stop him. “I know what you mean, Carter, and believe me, I wish I had been stronger and didn’t let so many people influence my decision. But I did and now here I am, in the middle of this nightmare—and all I’m trying to do is stay sane.”
And he wasn’t helping one bit.
“Can I ask you something and then we’ll let this topic go for now?”
She nodded.
“Did he ever… I mean, other than the cheating, did Derek ever…?”
Emery shook her head. “Derek never abused me in any way, shape, or form. If anything, he was just cool and detached. He almost always treated me with respect, and other than making demands on my time to help him with his career, well—that was it. It’s weird, because everyone asks if he exhibited the kind of behavior he’s accused of while we were at home.” She looked up at him sadly. “And he never did. He cheated on me, yet he always managed to convince me that he was sorry and it wouldn’t happen again. But the rest? I guess I should consider myself lucky.”
Somehow, that wasn’t quite what he’d call her, but it filled him with relief to know she hadn’t been abused the way so many others had been.
Without a word, he stood and walked into the kitchen and pulled out one of the bakery boxes. Cutting the twine, he opened it, took out one of the brownies, and brought it to her like a peace offering.
“I’m going to get started on lunch,” he said gruffly and moved away before Emery could say anything.
In the kitchen, he washed his hands and began pulling ingredients from the bag. He rinsed, he chopped, he seasoned. Though it was mindless work for him—he could prepare a simple seafood salad with warmed bread in his sleep—even cutting up the fresh fruit didn’t bring him any joy, and Carter normally enjoyed tasting the sweet pieces as he worked.
A Dash of Christmas Page 4
