Chapter Twenty-One
N ick entered The Foxhole—a space all too familiar to him. His band played live music at the venue every other month. And he, Em, and their friends were no strangers to the venue’s excellent happy hours. So why did it feel so strange as he’d stepped through those doors tonight?
Maybe it was less about the place and more about the fact that he and Em had only exchanged a few brief text messages since she’d declared that she needed a little space to figure this all out.
It was a fair request. Besides, he needed time and space to figure his own shit out, too. He was clear on his attraction to Em and how much her friendship meant to him. But what had become evident in the past several weeks was the depth of his feelings for his best friend.
Nick had been working through that realization and its repercussions. Trying to let go of his fear that he’d inevitably fuck up his relationship with Em was a difficult task when it’d only taken him one night to do just that.
“Hey, Nick. Haven’t seen you here in a while.” Diane, one of the bartenders on duty, grinned, her thick lashes fluttering. Her voice—a low growl—could barely be heard over the music playing in the background and the din of disparate conversations.
“This marketing project I’m working on for one of our new resort properties has been keeping me busy,” he said. “I’ve been traveling a lot.”
“Must be nice.” Diane grinned, impressed. “Call me if you could use a little company.” She winked.
Nick groaned. It was the kind of harmless flirtation that came as naturally to him as breathing. But since he’d come to terms with his feelings for Em, those interactions no longer seemed harmless. They were a reminder of why Emerie had buried herself in her work, extracurricular activities, and family obligations for the past month. Anything to avoid talking to him.
“I’ll have a Godfather.” Nick’s demeanor was polite, but not encouraging.
“Wait… you don’t want your usual?” Diane looked up from the bottle of imported beer she was pouring, evidently for him.
“Thought I’d go with something different tonight.” Nick ignored the woman’s shocked expression.
“Perfect. I’ll take that beer. And can I get a frozen peach margarita, too?” Rett leaned against the bar. He thanked Diane when she gladly handed him the beer she’d poured.
“I’ll get your frozen margarita for Sin,” Diane told Rett. Then she turned to Nick. “And your Godfather. Back in a sec.”
“So it’s not just my cousin you’re pissing off lately.” Rett sipped his beer. “Apparently, you’re frustrating every woman you come in contact with.” He turned toward Nick with one elbow perched on the bar. “Looks like Holly Grove Island’s golden boy has lost the Midas touch with the fair women of our town.”
“You got jokes tonight, I see.” Nick glanced over at Rett. “I’mma give you a pass because I know you old married—”
“ Almost married.” Rett held up his beer mug.
“I know you old married fellas—” Nick emphasized the word again “—don’t get out much.”
“Oh, so now you got jokes. Touché.” Rett chuckled. “But seriously, man, what’s up with you and Em? Because clearly you did something to piss her off.”
“Em and I are fine.” Nick felt a rock form in his gut. He hated lying to his friend, but he wasn’t about to confess to having sex with the man’s cousin. Particularly not when she’d declared that it would be better if they pretended it had never happened. “We’ve both been really busy. She’s been practicing like crazy for this dance exhibition, and I’ve been working on the opening of our newest resort in Virginia.”
Nick thanked Diane when she brought his Godfather. He stuffed a five in the tip jar. That seemed to alleviate her previous annoyance with him for not flirting with her and daring to order something other than his usual.
“I’m aware.” Rett nodded sagely. “But there is definitely something else going on with you two. And just so you know, it’s been the topic of discussion on the family group chat. So you might want to try a little harder to come up with a viable excuse.” Rett drank more of his beer.
“That obvious, huh?” Nick took a healthy gulp of his drink.
Nick had spent the past four days in New York, most of it in marathon meetings with the marketing team there. But he was concerned about the growing distance between him and Emerie. He’d returned to Holly Grove Island yesterday for one reason only—to attend Em’s performance tonight. Afterward, he hoped they could talk before he had to return to New York for another important meeting.
Despite the strain between them, he was confident that he and Em would work things out. After all, they’d been friends for two decades. This wasn’t the first time they’d gotten into a little tiff—as his mother called their past minor disagreements. Granted, things had never gone on quite this long. Especially not since he’d returned to Holly Grove Island a few years ago. But he was sure they’d work it out, just the same.
“Neither of you is good at hiding your feelings,” Rett noted. “You’re walking around here like the Grim Reaper and she’s been either super quiet or hella moody. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that something went down between you two and that Em’s Soulmate Project is probably at the root of it,” Rett said.
Was it awful that he was both gutted that he was the root cause of his best friend’s distress while also feeling a glimmer of hopefulness at the fact that Em was miserable without him, too?
“Me, her brothers, her father… none of us are thrilled about this whole thing, either. But from what I’ve heard, she made her feelings clear, and you took a pass. And no one is blaming you for that,” Rett continued before Nick could object. “But you made your choice. Now she’s trying to move on, but you seem determined to sabotage the whole thing.”
Nick refrained from noting that the men Em had selected thus far weren’t shit to write home about. That would make him sound bitter. Besides, he realized in retrospect that though he hadn’t done so consciously, on some level, he had been trying to sabotage Em’s Soulmate Project. And he owed Em a sincere apology for that.
Nick polished off the remainder of his drink and requested another.
“That kind of a night, huh?” Diane retrieved the glass. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”
“I won’t argue with anything you’ve said.” Nick rubbed his chin. “And I know things have been weird between us the past few weeks. But we’ll work it out. We always do.”
“I don’t know, boss. This feels… different .” Rett set his partially consumed beer on the bar. “Look, I know you’re both grown-ass, intelligent adults fully capable of figuring out your own shit. So normally, I’d keep my two cents to myself,” Rett continued. “But as a friend, and as Em’s cousin, I’m rooting for you two to win. Honestly.” Rett placed a hand over his heart, his tone and expression sincere. “Because you two misfit toys clearly belong together.”
Nick and Rett both laughed.
“We definitely do.” A pained smile made Nick’s chest ache as he thought about the past few weeks of awkwardness and silence between him and Emerie. Nick stared into his glass. “I really miss her.”
When Nick looked up, he met his friend’s compassionate gaze.
“Then you should tell her how you feel.” Rett gently shoved Nick’s shoulder.
“What if telling her how I feel changes everything between us?”
Rett’s deep belly laugh surprised him.
“You’re worse off than I thought.” Rett shook his head, then drained the rest of his beer. He placed a large hand on Nick’s shoulder. “That ship has sailed, been hijacked by pirates, and set afire in the middle of the ocean,” Rett said. “Things will never, ever be the same between the two of you again. And that’s okay. All relationships grow and change over time, Nick. But as the unofficial president of the Misfit Toys Club, I can tell you that whatever you’re feeling for Em isn’t going to just go away, no matter how hard or how long you try to bury your feelings.”
“But it was different with you and Sin. You two were frenemies—not best friends,” Nick pointed out.
“True. But we both love Dex and Dakota. We’re part of the same friend and family group. Both love this town. So trust me, there was a lot on the line for us, too.”
Nick hadn’t thought about that. Friend groups were ecosystems that needed to be carefully balanced. One Bitter Betty or Gloomy Gus could send the entire thing spiraling. Something he’d discovered more than once during his college years.
“I’ve been telling myself that I’m just giving Em the time and space she needs. But the truth is, maybe I’ve been avoiding the conversation because the idea of having it scares the shit out of me. And based on how things have gone so far, I don’t know that instinct is wrong.”
“Putting your heart on the line, it’s scary as fuck, and it isn’t always pretty. But if you love Em—and it seems you do—getting your happy ending with the woman you love is worth it,” Rett assured him.
“Thanks, Rett. I appreciate the talk. It helps a lot,” Nick said gratefully. His friendships with Dexter and Rett and their families were important to him and part of the equation he was trying to balance. “Looks like the show is about to begin, but the next round is on me.” Nick signaled to Diane that he wanted to order another round for Rett.
“Thanks.” Rett nodded. “But I didn’t come over here just to chat. I was sent to collect you so you won’t spend the entire exhibition hiding out over here thinking we’re all mad at you.” Rett gestured toward the large table where Sinclair and Dakota were looking over at him like two concerned older sisters. “You’re not just Em’s friend, Nick. You’re our friend.” Rett placed a hand on his chest. “Don’t let those sweet smiles fool you. If I come back without you, those two gorgeous women will have my hide.”
A wave of emotion swept over Nick: familial love, friendship, gratitude, and a sense of relief. The people at that table meant the world to him. They had for most of his life. He was just as worried about disappointing them as he was about hurting Em. So it meant everything that they wanted him there with them, despite the difficulties he and Em were going through.
Nick released a quiet sigh of relief and nodded at Dakota and Sin. “In that case, the next round for the entire table is on me.”
Rett clapped a hand on Nick’s shoulder, then the two of them made their way over to the table after Diane brought their drinks.
The knot in his stomach slowly unfurled as the two women’s faces lit up and Dexter, whose arm was draped around his wife’s shoulders, gave him a subtle nod.
But before he could take the seat that Sin indicated was his, Em and Dex’s mother, Ms. Marilyn, popped up from her seat and wrapped him in a big hug.
“Good to see you, sweetheart.” Ms. Marilyn smiled. “I’m glad you made it, and I know Em will be, too.”
“I hope so.” Nick gave her a pained smile. They all ordered their next round of drinks and settled in for the show.
He couldn’t stay long, but he hoped that he and Em could finally talk before he had to go.
Em paced back and forth in the private party room at The Foxhole serving as the green room for the dance exhibition performers.
“A few more paces around the place, and you’re going to wear a hole in that floor.” Ms. Idelle’s gravelly voice broke Em out of her swirling cloud of dark thoughts.
What if she forgot her steps? What if she tripped and fell? (She was definitely going to play dead and let them carry her off on a stretcher.) What if she sucked? But the most pervasive concern was whether she’d gone too far with the song selection for her and Carlos’s final performance.
“I’m a little nervous.” Em clasped, then unclasped her hands.
“You’re a natural, Ms. Roberts. More importantly, your performances are filled with a freedom and joy that I find inspiring. The crowd will, too.”
Effusive praise coming from Ms. Idelle was a rarity. A gift Em was appreciative of. Particularly coming just moments before she stepped out on that floor.
“Thank you, Ms. Idelle. This opportunity and your confidence in me both mean a lot.”
The older woman, whose silvery, shoulder-length strands were pulled into a regal topknot, assessed her carefully.
“It isn’t the dance you’re concerned about, is it?” Ms. Idelle came a few steps closer and lowered her voice. “This is about your friend, Mr. Washington, and your sudden change in the song selection. No doubt a message to him?”
Em’s cheeks heated as she glanced around the room to see if Carlos or the few remaining folks there to help with makeup and costumes could hear their conversation.
“Yes.” Em nodded. “It seemed like a great idea at the time. But now…” Em shook her head and dabbed at the corner of her eyes. “I’m not so sure.”
“I see.” Ms. Idelle nodded thoughtfully. The older woman slipped her hand into Em’s and offered a warm smile. “The passion with which you’ve performed since you made the change tells me this is what’s on your heart. Something you need to express. And evidently, this performance is the best vehicle for that message. I realize that this is a moment of vulnerability for you, Ms. Roberts. But it is in such moments that we truly find our voice and often a sense of bravery we never realized we possessed.”
Em looked up at the older woman whom she so deeply admired. During an illustrious career that had taken her all over the world, Ms. Idelle had broken racial boundaries and triumphed again and again in the face of overt bigotry, blatant colorism, harmful stereotypes, and exhausting microaggressions. But Em couldn’t help thinking that what Ms. Idelle was hinting at was more of a personal nature. She wondered what the older woman’s story was.
“What if it was a mistake?” Em asked quietly. “What if it changes things in a way we can’t rebound from?”
“I’ve been watching you two.” Ms. Idelle smiled. “You share a love and friendship I envy. But true love and genuine friendship cannot exist if we are not living in our truth.”
The woman’s words struck a chord that seemed to vibrate through Em’s chest. Ms. Idelle was right about everything. She’d chosen to perform this song because both she and Nick needed the message. The song was empowering, and Em felt every word, every note.
“Thank you, Ms. Idelle.” Em squeezed the woman’s hand and smiled. She sucked in a quiet breath and tipped her chin. “I know how important this exhibition is to you and to the school. I won’t let you down.”
“Never doubted it.” Ms. Idelle’s usually stern expression gave way to a ghost of a smile before becoming serious again. She made a shooing gesture. “Now go on. Carlos is waiting for you. Your finale is up next, and I need to get back out there to make your introduction.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Em turned to walk away, but turned back and hugged the older woman, taking her by surprise.
Em hurried to join Carlos, who flashed her a confident smile.
“Don’t worry. You’re a natural.” Carlos tucked Em’s hand in his elbow, then straightened his collar. “Just feel the music and the passion that prompted you to choose this song. Show everyone out there the skill and confidence you’ve demonstrated to us every night at practice. All right?”
Em nodded. Then, when Ms. Idelle announced their names, she and Carlos crossed the room and stood under the spotlight.
Butterflies flitted in Em’s stomach, and she tried to maintain her composure as her adorably rowdy friends and family hooted and cheered her on.
The opening notes of “Don’t Start Now” by Dua Lipa began, and she let go of her inhibitions and fears, got lost in the music, and focused solely on her partner—an experienced dancer who’d won countless dance competitions.
The audience clapped in time with the beat and sang along with the catchy lyrics of the song about a woman telling her ex that he’d had his chance, and he’d blown it. He didn’t care before, so he shouldn’t start now that someone else was interested.
With every movement executed successfully, Em relaxed and got more into the playfulness and joy of the empowering song. Her hips swayed, her shoulders shimmied, and she nailed each and every step whether they were synchronized or part of the push and pull of the scene.
When they nailed the tricky footwork, followed by a challenging lift, Em knew they were home free. Her confidence soared, and she put a little more sass and drama in each and every step until the final part when she shoved Carlos’s shoulder, gestured for him to take a hike, and did her final spin and pose.
The entire club erupted with applause, most of them jumping to their feet.
The lights were blinding, but she could hear her mother’s and Sinclair’s voices clearly as they yelled their encouragement. She blew a kiss in the direction of where her family and friends were seated.
“You were incredible.” Carlos hugged her, lifting her off her feet, before putting her down and lifting their joined hands before they both took a bow.
They’d nailed the performance, and there was something about it that felt freeing. Maybe Ms. Idelle was right. It was something she’d needed to do. Em glanced over toward the table where her family and friends were. She was sure that she’d seen Nick there when she and Carlos had first walked onto the dance floor. But he wasn’t there now.
She’d gotten the message across to her best friend, and it seemed that he’d quickly come back with a response.