Chapter 60
CHAPTER SIXTY
Case
As I sit at Drake’s desk, I read Emma’s contract over for the third time.
“Is it correct, Case?” Maureen Townsend, the lead counsel for Cabbott Mobile, taps her pen against her palm. “You’ve been staring at it for thirty minutes.”
That’s because I’m taking a leap of faith.
I feel like I’m about to attempt a jump over the Grand Canyon without a running start and no safety net.
I read the paragraph about the location of the position again.
It’s the address for Cabbott Mobile in San Francisco.
Emma’s office will be next to mine.
I want her next to me in bed when I wake up every morning.
“The salary is generous,” Maureen says.
She wants to fill the silence. It’s the same thing she did after Pol died. She talked and talked about nothing when I asked her to come to my office a week after he died.
I needed her to work her magic to cancel my purchase of the apartment on Madison Avenue. Before she could do that, Drake worked his magic, and I agreed to move in.
I’m thankful for that now.
It brought Emma into my life. There’s no way in hell Drake would have tried to pass the two-bedroom walkup on the Lower East Side off as his own.
“It’s fine,” I finally say. “I need to order pizza and pick up some cupcakes.”
Her thin lips perk up in a grin. “Cupcakes? Don’t you detest sweet things?”
I laugh. “I’ve changed, Maureen.”
She takes a step forward. “You should thank whoever is responsible for that.”
Pushing back from my desk, I stand so I can give her a hug.
“What was that for?” She smiles.
“For helping me get through the darkness seven years ago.” I point at the contract on my desk. “And for helping make my dreams come true.”
She pats my cheek. “I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I know it hasn’t been easy, Case.”
“Loss never is.”
She contemplates my words. “Grief runs on its own schedule. I get the sense that you’re edging toward brighter days.”
Before I can say anything in response, her hand is in the air. “I’m not saying that you’ll ever stop grieving, but you’re turning a corner. I can see it, and nothing could make me happier.”
“I am turning a corner,” I affirm with a nod. “I have someone special to thank for that.”
“I think I know who.” She presses a finger to her lips. “I’m bound by client and lawyer privilege. No one will get those details out of me, not even Drake.”
I raise a brow in response. “He’ll know soon enough.”
He will. I plan on telling my best friend that his sister owns my heart.
“Are you as surprised as I am that he’s marrying Jane?” She lets a laugh spill out of her. “I thought they hated each other.”
My brows perch together. “I have no fucking idea who Jane is.”
The laughter slows as her eyes skim my face. “You know Jane.”
“I don’t.” I shrug. “I’ve never met a Jane.”
Something shifts in her expression. “She was an intern at Cabbott, Case. It was years ago.”
“Seven years ago?” I question.
Her gaze drops. “I guess it was around that time, yes.”
“Shit.” I drag a hand through my hair. “Why don’t I remember her?”
“You had very little to do with her.” She rests a hand on my shoulder. “She was assigned to Drake. They couldn’t get along. She finally left after a couple of months.”
I try to drag up a memory of Jane, but I come up blank. Grief might be to blame for that, but it’s no excuse.
“She stopped in last fall to see Drake to apologize for giving him a hard time.” A smile tugs on the corners of her lips. “It wasn’t love at first sight, but there was something there. You know what they say about there being a fine line between love and hate.”
“Does he seem happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever seen him.” She drops her hand in front of her. “Almost as happy as you are.”
I’ll be happier if things go my way tonight.
“Have a copy of the contract sent to my apartment.” I adjust my suit jacket. “Seal the envelope. I don’t want the doorman getting his eyes on it.”
“Done.” She nods. “Anything else?”
“Take the rest of the day off.” I surprise both of us with that statement.
“That I can do.” She sets off out of my office with a spring in her step.
I look down at my phone. I type in the name of the bakery Emma loves into the search bar.
Sweet Bluebells is on the Upper West Side.
I’ll head there, grab two red velvet cupcakes, and then make my way to the apartment.
I plan on having a large pizza delivered along with a bottle of red wine from the restaurant I took Emma to.
It’s not the best food, but it holds meaning for us now.
We shared our first meal there, and she taught me that it was all right for me to laugh again.
I felt happiness for the first time in years as I sat at that table and ate pizza with her.
Tonight, I want to sit in my apartment and plan my future with her.
I send Emma a simple text message.
Case: How do you feel about staying in tonight? I want to talk to you at the apartment.
Her reply is instant.
Emma: I like that idea. I’ll be there waiting for you.
I look up to see the sun breaking through the clouds as I swing open the door to Sweet Bluebells. A woman exiting the bakery brushes past me with a large white box in her hands. “You’re a lifesaver. Thank you for holding the door.”
“It’s my pleasure,” I say with a smile.
I take a step inside, and I’m instantly assaulted with the smell of cake. I can see why Emma hangs out here.
I approach the counter. An older woman with brown hair gifts me with a bright grin. “Welcome to Sweet Bluebells. How are you?”
“I’m great,” I say for the first time in a very long time. “How are you?”
“Good. Good,” the woman repeats the word twice. “Tell me what you’d like.”
I survey the cupcakes in the display case.
I came in thinking I knew what I wanted, but I suddenly wonder if Emma wants to try something new.
“I think that the woman I love would want one of each,” I say, realizing that I just put a voice to what I’m feeling.
“Why don’t I pack up a dozen assorted for her?” She perks a brow. “Does she have a favorite that I should include?”
I bend to get a better look into the display case. With a tap of my finger on the glass, I smile. “Put two red velvets in for her. I know she can’t resist them.”
The woman nods before she reaches for a white rectangular box.
“Rush? Is that you?”
I freeze in place. Only a handful of people have ever called me that.
I turn toward the soft voice as she says it again, “Rush?”
I look at the blonde woman standing next to me. Her hands are shaking. Tears are streaming down her face tracking her mascara with them.
I reach for the counter to steady my balance because I can’t place her. I have no fucking idea who she is, but I can tell she knows me.
I caused her pain. I see it. I fucking feel it with every sob that comes out of her. Whatever I did to this woman, I need to make it right. That has to happen now.