Uncharted Territory

31. Emma

31

Emma

“ A re you almost done with that?” Bianca asks sharply while invading my small workspace.

“Almost,” I answer as cheerfully as I can manage. My eyes are trained on the hem that I’m guiding through the sewing machine, but I don’t have to look up to know that Bianca is giving me an impatient glare. “I’ll be done in five.”

“What about the dresses that need to be steamed?” she asks.

I cock my head to my right, motioning to a rack of wrinkled dresses. “Jenny just dropped them off a few minutes ago. I’ll do them next.”

“We needed them twenty minutes ago,” she chides.

My patience thins, along with my smile. “Well, the dresses were locked in Jenny’s office up until a few minutes ago with no way for me to retrieve them. I have my hands full at the moment, but it you want to help – ”

She scoffs, “I’ll be back in five minutes.” The click of her heels disappears down the hallway.

This day feels like a bad joke. It seems impossible that a group of people could collectively be so bad at their jobs. Between Jenny locking some of the dresses in her office then leaving the key at home and Bianca ‘forgetting’ to tell me about five garments that needed hemming until after the photoshoot had already started, I’m amazed that either of them has a job here. And somehow, they still find a way to blame me for their mess.

Once I finish hemming the dress, I hang it on the door and move on to the items that need to be steamed.

None of this is what I had in mind when I dreamed about working in the fashion industry. I knew I’d have to cut my teeth on some grunt work – fetching coffees, steaming clothing, making small alterations. I wouldn’t mind doing those things if there was even a small semblance of order around here.

Or respect.

Instead, everyone is so busy clawing their way to the next minor bump in pay or status that nothing ever gets done on schedule. Every day is pure chaos as people guess wildly at what needs to be done and who should be the one to do it, which inevitably leads to arguments. This is followed by a ‘cool down’ period, where everyone involved seemingly vanishes into thin air. Some people go out for a coffee, others hide in their office. One woman cries in her car a lot.

To top it off, my office is a windowless shoebox, and my boss is a neurotic and thoroughly unpleasant human who spends most of her time vaping in the courtyard of the building or yelling at her husband on speakerphone. This week, she’s upset about his home beer brewing project which has triggered her migraines due to her ‘sensitivity to yeasty smells.’

So, yeah…yum to that.

The very worst part is that I hate her newest designs. Her brand touts themselves as being inclusive to all sizes, but her plus sized lines are full of voluminous layers of clothing that make anyone who wears them look like a chubby raccoon trapped in a trash bag.

I miss making my own designs, even if they’re just for myself and my small internet following. There isn’t enough room in my apartment for my sewing machine, and even if there was, I don’t have the time or the energy to work on anything of my own right now. I had to close my online store indefinitely, which I can barely stand to think about without shedding a tear or two. I worked hard on that store. My loyal customers have sent me all sorts of nice messages wishing me well and hoping that I’ll open my store again eventually, which only makes me feel worse about the situation. I traded something I truly loved for something I’m growing to hate more and more each day.

The truth is that I hate LA, and I hate my new job. I miss Denver. I miss Margot and my dad. But mostly, I miss Garrett.

His phone call last week nearly broke me. I was already on the cusp of swallowing my pride and going home, but now it’s all I can think about. My stubborn pride won’t allow it though. Even if I went back to Denver, it wouldn’t change anything. Even if we didn’t work together, he’d still be Grumpy Garrett for as long as he keeps working himself to the bone at a job he’s lost all his love for. But Garrett is as stubborn as I am, and I don’t think he’ll walk away from True North – now or ever.

It was easier to let me go than for him to walk away.

Tears prickle in the corners of my eyes. I quickly finish steaming the rack of clothing and pack up for the day. My stomach growls as I drive home. All I’ve eaten all day is an apple from the communal fruit bowl in the break room.

It’s well past eight o’clock when I step off the elevator onto the fourth floor of my apartment complex. I’m already bracing myself for the cacophony of meows Purrnando will undoubtedly bestow upon me for being late with his dinner for the fifth time this week. If there’s anyone who hates Los Angeles more than me, it’s Purrnando.

Turning the corner down the long hallway, I’m flipping through the stack of mail in my hand when a voice greets me.

“Emma.”

My heart stops as abruptly as my feet do. When I look up, my eyes are already glassy with unshed tears of frustration from my bad day at work.

“Garrett?” I say, barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

He takes a step forward, his presence looming large in the cramped hallway. My body aches to run to him, to feel his big arms wrap around me. My brain objects. It reminds me not to let my hopes soar too high. It’ll just hurt worse when they come crashing down again.

“I needed to see you,” he says, taking another step forward.

“It’s a long way to come for a spontaneous visit.”

He nods. “There’s something I need to say.” He glances around, probably wondering if the walls are as thin as they look. Spoiler alert: they are. I’m sorry to say that I am intimately familiar with the frequency and type of porn my next-door neighbor watches. “Can I come in?”

“Of course,” I say.

My heart thumps wildly in my chest as I close the gap between us. His familiar scent fills my lungs as I stand beside him and slide my key into the lock. Garrett follows me into my dark apartment. When I flip on the light, his eyes dart around the small space. He frowns at the stack of boxes occupying one corner of my tiny studio apartment. It occurs to me to be embarrassed by my substantial downgrade in living situations, but I’m already too overloaded with conflicting emotions to introduce a new one into the mix.

Garrett lifts a reusable tote bag up and sets it on the counter. Before I can ask what’s in it, Purrnando appears out of nowhere to rub his cheek against the corner of the bag. When he’s finished, he approaches Garrett, who tentatively holds his hand out.

“Hey, Purrnando,” he says. “What happened here?” Garrett taps a finger against the bandage on Purrnando’s front leg.

“There was a bit of an altercation with a rat,” I explain. “The rat won.”

Garrett frowns at this but doesn’t say anything.

The cat rubs his cheek against Garrett’s hand and purrs. A flicker of a smile appears on his lips, and the hollow space in my chest suddenly feels so full it might burst.

The dry click on my throat cuts the silence, drawing Garrett’s attention to me. His gray eyes hold mine for a few seconds before roaming over my face. My cheeks heat under his gaze and my stomach does a little flip.

I drag in a choppy breath and break the tension before I do something careless, like flinging myself into his arms.

“What’s in the bag?” I ask.

Garrett drags his gaze away slowly and reaches into the tan tote bag with his company’s name printed on the side. He pulls out a large, nondescript white box and sets it on the counter between us. I glance down at it then up at him.

“Open it,” he says.

I pull the lid open to reveal…cookies. So many cookies. Two dozen, at least.

“That’s…a lot of cookies.”

“Thirty-two,” he says. “One for every day you’ve been gone.”

I blink up at him. “Why?”

Garrett squares off to face me, putting himself so close that it feels unnatural not to reach for him. Those few inches of space buzz with an electrical current that draws me in but could easily ruin me as well.

Inhaling a deep, calming breath, I keep my eyes centered on his chest, but Garrett won’t allow it. His fingers find my chin, tilting it up until my eyes are on his. The hazy plexiglass is a distant memory as I bear the full force of Garrett’s stare. The look he gives me makes the flimsy wall I’ve erected around my heart threaten to crumble. The ghost of his touch on my skin makes every nerve ending in my body strain against my skin, pulling me to him.

“Because every day that you’ve been gone has been the worst day of my life,” he says.

My chest expands almost painfully with hope. Fresh tears fill the corners of my eyes.

“Emma, I’m so sorry,” he continues. I see my own pain reflected in his eyes. “I know I made a mess of things. I let my job get the best of me when I should have been giving you the best of me instead. From the minute that you walked into my life, I think I knew that nothing would ever be the same. The last few weeks just confirmed it for me. Realizing that there was something more important than this company that I’ve spent so much time building scared me. I’ve devoted my life to this company, and I didn’t realize how unhappy it was making me until I found true happiness with you.”

“Garrett,” I say, my voice tight and my eyes threatening to spill a day’s worth of unshed tears. “That means a lot to me. I want you to be happy. I want you to realize there’s more to you than the company you built. But I can’t be the only one responsible for your happiness. You have to be responsible for it as well.”

“I understand,” he says. “But can I ask you something?”

I nod hesitantly.

“Are you happy here in LA? Do you like your new job?”

I consider lying to give both him and me an easy out, but I can’t bring myself to do it. “No,” I answer quietly. “I sort of hate it here, but maybe I just need to give it some more time.”

Garrett nods like he’s contemplating something. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned from you, it’s that I need to stop wasting time on things that make me unhappy. That’s why I need to show you something.”

He reaches back into the tan tote bag and pulls out a black t-shirt, splaying it out in the small wedge of space between us.

“New Wonders Expeditions,” I read aloud, peeling my eyes off the colorful logo to look up at Garrett.

“My new company,” he clarifies. “It’s named after you.”

My brows crease as I glance from Garrett to the words on the shirt, failing to make the connection.

“Do you remember the day we hiked out of the Grand Canyon?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“You remember when the hike was over? When we stood at the edge of the canyon and looked down?”

I nod.

“You had this look on your face at that moment that did something to me. It was like seeing everything for the first time through your eyes. Like seeing a whole new spectrum of colors I never even knew existed. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I think that’s the moment everything changed for me. That’s the moment that I knew.”

“Knew what?” I ask, swallowing down the lump of emotion in my throat.

“When I knew that I wanted to take you everywhere, show you everything. That I would do anything to see that look on your face over and over again. That ignoring my feelings for you wouldn’t work because those feelings would just keep growing.”

“You tried to send me home right after that,” I counter.

“I know. I’m sorry. I realized my feelings for you were more than just simple attraction or a stupid little crush, and that scared the hell out of me. I panicked, and I’m sorry if it hurt your feelings.”

“Good thing I’m stubborn,” I say with a quiet laugh.

He smiles down at me. “Yes, that’s one of many things that I realized I love about you on that trip.”

The word makes my heart pound against my sternum, as if it’s reaching for Garrett. As if my heart has had enough of not belonging to him. My eyes dart to his and my lips part. Saying he loves my stubbornness isn’t the same as Garrett saying that he loves me, but my heart goes wild with hope, nonetheless.

And as if he can hear its desperate rhythm in my chest, Garrett seems to know exactly what it wants. He lifts his hands to gently cradle my face. I melt into his touch, giving up a few seconds of staring into his warm gray eyes to close mine and hope. Just hope. I need it more than air right now.

The pad of his thumb strokes my cheek and my eyes flutter open to meet his gaze.

“I love you, Emma,” Garrett says. “From this point forward, I’m going to make sure that you only get the best version of me. Whether you leave with me right now, or whether I have to keep waiting, I’m going to prove that you are the most important thing to me. I’ll even come live here with you if that’s what you want.” He glances around the shabby, cramped studio apartment and frowns. “Well, not here exactly, but somewhere in Los Angeles with you. I can work on my new business from anywhere. We can get a bigger place with space for Purrnando and Ron, and for you to have a whole sewing room for yourself. Whatever you want, as long as I get to be with you.”

The precarious pools of moisture in my eyes spill over, running down my cheeks. Garrett wipes them away with his thumb then pulls me against his hard chest and wraps me tight in his arms.

“I love you too, Garrett,” I manage to say through my tears. “But I hate LA.”

His chest bounces with a quiet laugh beneath my cheek. He pulls back just enough to press his lips to mine for a long, perfect moment.

I thoroughly plan to kiss every inch of him all over every inch of this small apartment, and then I plan to leave this place behind forever. This isn’t my dream. Maybe it used to be, but somewhere along the line, my heart found what it really needed. It found Garrett. And now, I can’t imagine a future that doesn’t include him.

“Can we please go back to Denver?” I ask.

Garrett smiles down at me, that same sexy smile that started this whole ordeal two months ago. “I’ll go anywhere, as long as it’s with you.”