Chapter 10 Emma
Emma
Around midnight, a fight had broken out in the campground where I’d been fast asleep. Feeling unsafe, I drove here.
I’d set my alarm for an hour earlier than usual to avoid being discovered by Bill again. I made my way inside the manor and got ready for the day. Thirty minutes later, I walked outside, trying not to stagger from exhaustion.
Less than a month now. That was what I told myself. In less than a month, I’d have enough saved up for an apartment.
I stopped short in front of my car. On the roof sat a little brown lunch bag, which held an apple and another breakfast sandwich.
Bill.
I whirled around, looking in every direction, but saw no one.
I knew I should be panicked, but maybe I was too sleep-deprived for that, because all I felt was gratitude.
He knew I was here, and if he’d been planning to tell anyone, he not only would have done so by now, he certainly wouldn’t be feeding me.
***
I managed to keep myself too busy to think about anything other than working, keeping track of the apartments up for rent in the area, and maybe also reliving the fun I’d had with Caleb—drinking, eating cookies…the handful I’d accidentally gotten off him.
I got a hot flash every time I thought about it, at least until I remembered he was a kiss avoider.
It’s a bad idea.
His words rang in my head in that low, sexy voice of his, making me mad at myself all over again. How had I not seen that coming? Once a player, always a player, and I had no one to blame but myself. I just needed to, in the immortal words of Taylor Swift, shake it off.
So I had. In the past week, I’d buried myself in work. I had three jobs on top of the Henderson project, so it had been easy to keep so busy, my head swam.
It’s a bad idea…
“Ugh!” I’d just started packing up to leave when Rosalind texted, asking me to come to her office. Rattled, I hustled up a flight of stairs and down a hallway, before coming to a skidding halt at her open office door.
“Is there a fire?” she asked drolly, sitting behind her desk in a power suit, lipstick perfect, makeup perfect. I bet she’d never felt the need to run to a meeting in her life. How did one get so polished, so sure of themself, so calm? I needed lessons.
“Sit,” she said.
I sat.
Rosalind cocked her head at me. “Your presentation last week was impressive, although anyone with half a brain can make a pretty speech.”
Not anyone. I couldn’t have, not without Caleb’s help.
Rosalind’s lips curved in a genuine smile. “Although…not everyone can back it up with the solid work you’ve been doing.”
I blinked from the emotional whiplash. “Thank you.”
She clasped her hands on her desk and leaned in slightly. “I think you know we’ve got three people in-house who want Ruth’s job. The competition is fierce.”
I nodded even though I hadn’t known that.
“So, if I were you, I’d keep up the good work.”
“I will. I’m also happy to do extra credit,” I quipped.
She eyed me over the top of her glasses. “There’s no extra credit.”
“I know, I was trying to be funny—Never mind.” I bit my tongue to shut myself up.
“I’m handing over two additional projects for you to take care of while I’m in France for the next two weeks.”
She wasn’t asking, so I swallowed hard and bit back any worry about being able to keep up with the jobs I was already handling. “No problem.”
She nodded her approval of my response. “We are very thorough in the hiring process, and as a result, we have little turnover. People come here, and they stay.”
I nodded my understanding. “My goal is to stay as well. I love it here.”
“And yet you have no family, no ties, and as far as I can tell, no permanent address other than a local PO box.”
I smiled past my anxiety, definitely not wanting to discuss any of that. “I’m working on it.”
“Good to know.” Rosalind stood. “Have a good evening.”
Dismissed, I walked calmly—fake calmly—down the hall and out of the building.
Had she just sorta let me know she was rooting for me to keep a job at Henderson and Hall?
Maybe?
I drove through some traffic to the Cork and Barrel, the locals’ favorite bar and grill. I was late to Suzie’s girls’ night—attendance required, that’s all her earlier text had said, and far be it from me to question the hormonal pregnant chick.
The Cork and Barrel was run by a grumpy but also kinda sweet bartender named Mack, who could remember anyone’s order, no matter how big or small.
The place was an ode to a bygone era with dark wood-paneled walls adorned with faded sports memorabilia and vintage beer signs.
Lights were low; noise was high. Eighties rock blared in tune to the sounds of pool being played, amid lots of talking and laughing.
And, if you counted Mack, also some yelling.
The place smelled like beer, chicken wings, and relief that the workday was over.
“Finally!” Suzie yelled from a high-top table across the bar, waving madly.
I shoved all my life worries deep and plastered a smile on my face as I headed toward her because her Worry Detector batted a thousand, and she had enough of her own.
But my smile threatened to slip when I realized there were two other women with her.
I’d come here straight from a very long day and felt like a mess, and…
I was tired. Bone-tired. Playing Goldilocks required waiting until late to sneak into the manor to sleep and getting up before the crack of dawn so as not to get caught—washing and repeating daily. It was catching up with me.
Suzie impressively jumped up to greet me with a hug tight enough that I could feel her baby kick.
I laughed as she rocked us to and fro. “I’m so glad you came.
” She pulled back. “I invited everyone I’ve flaked on recently because I’m busy growing a human.
” She turned to a redhead in jeans, a tee, and battered work boots and a brunette in a pretty sundress and heels, both sipping something pink and frothy.
“You all, this is my BFF, Emma Sumner. And Emma, meet Hazel and Kiera. I met Kiera in hot yoga a few years ago, and Hazel just moved back to town and was dragged to hot yoga by Kiera. Turns out all three of us hate hot yoga with a sweaty passion but love what it does for our asses. Well, not mine right now since I’ve been benched until I push a watermelon out my hoo-ha, but you know what I mean. ”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Kiera said.
“Kiera’s got two kiddos, twins,” Suzie told me, pouring me a drink from one of the two pitchers on the table. “It’s her first girls’ night out in a long time.”
“Lost my husband, had a breakdown.” Kiera waved a hand. “Long story. But I’m back! And an evening away from the dictators—I mean toddlers—is working wonders.”
Suzie lifted a hand for the bartender. “We need another pitcher for these two and another mocktail for us two!” she said, gesturing to her and Hazel, rubbing her massive baby bump. “I should probably take some Tums, because at two years pregnant, absolutely nothing agrees with me.”
“But you only look eighteen months preggers,” Kiera said, and Suzie laughed.
“It’s true,” Kiera said. “When I was pregnant, my boobs and belly arrived into a room half an hour ahead of me.”
“Boobs are Adam’s favorite perk of me being pregnant,” Suzie said.
“I don’t have kids or much in the way of boobs,” Hazel told me. “And I’m not sorry about either of those things.”
I laughed. “Me neither.”
“Don’t have a Prince Charming either.”
“Same,” I said. “If he’s out there looking for me, he’s clearly riding a turtle…”
Hazel laughed and tapped her mocktail to mine in camaraderie.
“Hazel’s a master carpenter,” Suzie said. “Her woodwork’s amazing.” She then turned her attention on me. “And you look cute. Cute dress, cute sandals, cute hair.”
“Came right from work,” I said. A dress was always my last choice for work, especially since I often ended up on a jobsite, but I needed to do laundry, which required sitting at a laundromat for hours, but I hadn’t had time.
“Adam’s been working long hours too,” Suzie said. “It’s making him cranky.” She looked at me. “If he keeps it up, I’ll need help hiding the body.”
Hazel laughed.
Suzie looked at her. “I keep trying to set you up with one of Adam’s friends, but you keep dodging.” She looked at Kiera. “You too.”
Kiera shook her head. “Not ready.”
Suzie looked at me.
“No thank you,” I said quickly. That night I’d had Tucker and Caleb drop me off at Suzie’s house, I hadn’t gone inside. I’d ordered an Uber and waited down the street to avoid this very conversation. “I’m dating myself.”
Suzie’s eyes narrowed. “What was that?”
“What?”
“You only talk that fast when you’re lying.” She gasped. “Ohmigod. Are you…seeing someone? And you haven’t told me?”
“Of course not.”
“Which? That you’re not seeing anyone, or that you are but haven’t told me?”
Suzie should’ve been an interrogator for the CIA. If I didn’t give her something, she’d bug me for the rest of my days. “Okay, so there might’ve been a near-miss kiss with someone at work, but I’m pretty sure it turned out to be nothing.”
Suzie gasped in sheer delight. “Yay!”
“You did hear the ‘turned out to be nothing’ part, right?”
“You said ‘pretty sure,’ not sure sure.”
“I meant sure sure.”
Suzie sighed in disappointment and turned to Hazel. “You work with hot guys all day long. How is it possible you’re in a dry spell?”
Hazel snorted. “Trust me, when you’re on a construction site in the thick of things, dirty and sweaty, no one looks sexy.”
“What about the Colburns?” Suzie asked. “You’re close to those guys, right? They’re the definition of sexy, and a couple of them are single.”
I accidentally inhaled my drink. By the time I’d finished coughing up a lung, everyone was looking at me with interest.
“Went down the wrong pipe,” I wheezed. “That’s all.”
Everyone then swiveled back to Hazel to get her take on the Colburns. “No way am I going to date Tucker—” She sucked her lips into her mouth and grimaced. “I mean, a Colburn.” She looked at Kiera. “Um, no offense.”
“None taken.”
Before I could figure out why Kiera would take offense, Kiera’s phone pinged with an incoming text.
She checked it and let out a soft smile, turning the phone to show us two adorable kiddos in the bathtub, covered in bubbles, grinning with delight.
“I make my babysitters send proof of life,” she said.
“Since they also sometimes act like three-year-olds—babysitting three-year-olds.”
“Her brothers Caleb and Tucker are babysitting,” Suzie said. “It takes two of them to keep those twins corralled.”
I choked on my drink. Yes, again. “Caleb…Colburn?”
“The one and only,” Suzie said, patting my back. “Why? You know him?”
“Everyone knows him,” Kiera said. “He hasn’t played hockey since college, but people still stop him to talk about it.”
“We sort of work together,” I said. “Henderson and Hall hired Colburn Restorations for a big project, and I’m the liaison.”
“Wait a minute…” Suzie was watching me carefully. “Caleb’s your near miss?”
I set down my drink so I didn’t almost die again but also kept my mouth shut, not especially wanting to admit that I’d almost kissed Kiera’s brother.
“Well, now I’m torn,” Suzie said. “Caleb’s a great guy, but I wanted you to find a keeper, and the Colburn brothers have never claimed to be keepers.” She grimaced at Kiera. “Sorry.”
“Again, no offense taken,” Kiera said. “Although, for what it’s worth, they’ve pretty much left their wild years behind them.”
My cheeks were hot. “I never said it was Caleb!”
“So it was Tucker?”
“No!”
“You’re beet red,” Kiera pointed out. “Honestly, you could do way worse.”
“No,” Hazel said flatly. “You can’t.”
Kiera slid her a look.
Hazel shook her head. “Don’t look at me like that; you know what I mean.”
“That our upbringing made it hard to trust?” Kiera asked. “Yeah, but I broke the cycle, and now Ryder’s doing the same, so I’ve got hope for Tucker.”
A long look was exchanged between the two of them, making me wonder what Hazel’s history with Tucker was.
Hazel looked away first. “This is about Emma and Caleb, not me and…your brother.”
That she couldn’t even say Tucker’s name nearly brought me out of my own embarrassment.
But then she turned to me. “Look, the Colburn brothers are great guys. Especially Caleb. He’s like a brother to me, and I love him.
But you seem like a really good person, Emma, one who deserves a keeper, so you should know that Caleb Colburn doesn’t do relationships because he’d rather chew glass than break up with a woman.
They don’t call him The Ghoster for nothing. ”
“Aw, thanks, Haze,” said an unbearably familiar male voice. “Really very helpful.”
We all turned to find Caleb standing behind us, a to-go order in one hand, a soda in the other.