Chapter 27
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Kat walks out of my office and leaves me to my own devices. I reach for my purse and take out my compact mirror, pinch my cheeks to give my skin a little color, and reapply my lipstick and gloss. I drag my fingers through my hair and walk toward the conference room.
When I enter the room, I take a quick look around. I see Anthony, Damon, Kat, Trevor, a police officer, and Tom Wakefield. His presence boils my blood. He rises as soon as I enter. He pulls out the chair next to him, but I ignore his gesture and sit at the opposite side of the table.
I sit several chairs down from Anthony. I find my eyes traveling to him, and each time he catches me looking, his eyes dart in a different direction. A weaker girl might have looked at the enormity of the situation and thrown in the towel. I was that girl a few weeks ago, but she got a slap upside the head that straightened her out. I’m not giving up until I’ve tried everything.
The police officer explains the details of the underage drinking allegations. The reporter takes notes furiously. I don’t know who invited him, but in the end, it will be good for Ahz to have him here. On the other hand, I want to slap him upside the head every time he asks a question. He’s the reason I’m in the situation I am. No, you’re the reason you’re in the situation you’re in. You didn’t have enough faith in the man you said you loved. My inner voice is loud and clear today. She’s not letting me off the hook, and rightly so. I created this situation, and I need to fix it.
“Emma, do you have any questions?”
I hear my name from somewhere far off. In my thoughts, I’ve traveled to a quiet place and tuned the entire room out.
“Emma, Damon asked if you had questions.” Kat taps my arm, bringing me back to the present.
I glance around the table and find everyone staring at me. “No, I have nothing to ask and nothing to add.”
Everyone from the meeting rises and leaves. The only people left are Tom Wakefield, Anthony, and me. They both look at me, and I feel like I’m intruding. I walk to the door to exit. Before I turn the corner, I look over my shoulder and lock eyes with Anthony. He stares at me for a minute and then looks back at Tom.
I listen to the clickety-clack of my heels on the tile floor as I head to my office. Since he will be busy with the reporter for a few minutes, it’s the perfect time to sneak into his office and drop off my invite.
The envelope weighs heavily in my hand as I put it in the center of his desk. I see my flowers have arrived. I wonder if he has seen them yet. I can only do what I can do. I have to hope fate will dish out something better than the shit she’s given me recently.
I almost make it back to my office when I hear my name called. I turn to see Tom Wakefield advancing toward me.
“Emma, I owe you an apology. I sent you those pictures without actually doing any investigation. I just saw a beautiful woman obviously in love with a rich playboy. I didn’t give Mr. Haywood the benefit of the doubt.”
“The sin doesn’t fall completely on your shoulders, Mr. Wakefield. I didn’t give him the benefit of the doubt either. I allowed you to plant a seed of doubt in my mind, and I let it grow into a vine that choked the life out of our relationship.”
“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?”
“No, I can manage to screw things up enough on my own. I only ask that you do a good job clearing up any doubt about Ahz and the underage drinking allegations.”
“I will do that. I’d like to give you a friendly hug, if I may?” He gives me a half smile.
Oh, what the hell? Half of my problem has been that I’ve held grudges. I reach forward and hug the reporter, who in one moment changed my world. I could hate him, but he taught me a valuable lesson about love, trust, and letting go. I wrap my arms loosely around his shoulders and squeeze gently.
“Have a good day, Mr. Wakefield.”
The rest of the day goes by smoothly. I haven’t heard from Anthony at all since the appointment. I assume he’s left for his corporate office. He trots between the two regularly. I think he was spending more time here lately so he could see me. I believe that will end now that he seems to want to avoid me at all costs.
I gather my things and take my time getting to the garage. Feeling a tap on my shoulders, I turn to find Trevor.
“Chris and I are heading to Trax tonight. It’s Monday night, Martini Madness. Do you want to come with us? You look like you could use a drink.”
“Does it show that much?” I exhale forcefully through pursed lips. “I really could use a few drinks. Yes, I think I will. What time?”
“We’ll meet you there at seven. Roxy is bartending, so she can hook you up with a few good, strong martinis. Take a taxi. I don’t want you driving.” Trevor escorts me to my car and kisses both of my cheeks.
Trax sounds like a good idea. It will be a better night than the one I had planned. Dancing and getting numbingly drunk sounds so much better than takeout and flannel pajamas.
I spend the drive home listening to music. So many songs remind me of Anthony. I think about tomorrow’s playlist selection. I decide on “Just Give Me a Reason” by Pink and Nate Ruess.
Once home, I putter around the house, cleaning everything in sight. It’s my therapy. At six o’clock, I call ahead for a cab and change into jeans, ballet flats, and a Journey T-shirt. I’m dressed to get shit-faced drunk.
The taxi honks as soon as it arrives. With the house locked up, I rush down the sidewalk thinking about a numbing night of music that’s way too loud and drinks that are way too strong.
Roxy seems to run from end to end of the bar. Monday nights are hopping at Trax. She sees me and nods her head, then points to the end of the bar, where I slide into the one empty seat.
“Good to see you. What can I get you?” She wipes the counter in front of me and lays down a cocktail napkin.
“Lemon drop martini and keep them coming. I’m not driving, and if I pass out, I’ll depend on you to get me home.”
“Fair enough. Stay close to me, or you might be some girl’s new dream come true.” She winks at me.
“Hell, given my track record with men lately, I might switch sides. I couldn’t have any worse luck.”
“Don’t borrow trouble. Here come Chris and Trevor. They can babysit you for a while.” She sets my glass in front of me and dashes off to fill another order. I can see how she stays so thin. She must run a marathon each night she works.
“Look at who’s come to the other side. Welcome home, sis.” Chris leans in for a smooch.
I spend the next few hours tossing back one martini after another. I dance with anyone who will dance with me. I don’t care if they are male, female, gay, or straight. I need to have some fun. Mostly, I end up dancing in between Chris and Trevor, who make me the center of their gay boy sandwich. They cage me between their arms and dance around me.
Sitting at the bar, on a brief respite from dancing, I watch as they hold each other in their arms. Chris’s head pressed on Trevor’s shoulder. It’s an incredibly intimate moment, and I almost feel guilty watching it. Chris raises his head and looks into Trevor’s eyes. Their lips meet in a kiss. Holy shit —I had no idea watching two men in love kiss could be so hot. My heart clenches. I want to be kissed like that.
In my drunken state, I send a text to Anthony.
I’m watching two men practically make love on the dance floor, which reminded me of you.
I pressed send.
What? How would two gay men remind you of me? Where are you?
I want you to kiss me.
Where are you?
Thank God for autocorrect. Who knows what I’m actually texting, but I hope it makes sense. I order another drink from Roxy. She gives me a concerned look, but when I tell her to make it, she does. She knows I’m in pain.
I see the light on my phone illuminate in the dim club. I see his name and answer. “Heyyyyy, you called. I’m trying to drink you away. I’m doing my best to get you back, but you’re lost.”
“Emma, where are you?”
“I’m at trash with Tigger and Cribs,” I say, but the words seem to fall out of my mouth in a jumble.
“Put someone else on the phone, now!”
I tap the man sitting next to me. “Heyyyy, my ex-boyfriend wants to talk to you. He’s adorable and has a big you-know-what.” I hand the phone to him and lay my head on the bar. I can hear things around me, but I can’t lift my head to engage. I’ve hit the place I’ve been trying to reach all night. I’m comfortably drunk and oblivious .
I hear his sexy voice. It must be my mind playing tricks. I listen the best I can, but nothing makes sense.
“Roxanne, what are you doing here?” It’s his voice.
“I work here, stud. What about you? Batting for the other side now?”
“No, I’m coming to take this one home.”
“I’ll take her. She made me promise to get her home if she couldn’t do it herself.”
“No need for you to go out of your way. Besides, I don’t think she needs to sleep on the bar until closing.”
“She’s my roommate,” I hear her say.
“The irony of that is too much for me to process right now. How much does she owe you?”
“She already paid. She started a tab. If you’re taking her home, make sure she has a trash can next to the bed. I imagine she’s going to feel pretty awful in the morning.”
I feel someone pick me up and cradle me in strong arms. I snuggle into his chest and inhale. I raise my eyes and look into his grim face to see it’s him.
“What?” He puts my head against his chest before I can say another word. I hear him talk to a few other people, and then there is cool air and silence.
The next thing I know, my clothes are being pulled off me. First, go my shoes, and then my pants. My shirt is being lifted above my head. I hear a groan and wonder where it came from. My body is moved into the bed, and the sheet is drawn over my near nakedness. The bed dips as he sits next to me. His hand brushes my hair away from my face. I open my eyes to look into his.
“Thank you, Anthony. I’ll always love you. There’ll be no one else for me.” My eyes fill with tears. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up. I want him here, no matter how I can have him.
“Shh, go to sleep. You probably won’t remember much of this tomorrow. I’m pretty sure you’re not going to feel well.” He pushes my hair behind my ear. “You’re such a funny girl. I love you, Emma. I do.” I feel the soft touch of lips against my forehead and then nothing.
I wake with the worst headache of my life. On my nightstand are a glass of water and two painkillers. Thank God for Roxy. I pop the pills into my mouth and guzzle the water. My initial response is nausea but thank goodness that settles quickly.
I reach for my phone and see Trevor and Chris’s messages, both making sure I was okay. What in the hell did I do last night? I drank entirely too much.
I grab my head to stop the pounding and climb out of bed then quickly shower and dress in something nice. I can’t lose my focus on Anthony. It’s bad enough I dreamed of him all night—him telling me he loved me was a glorious dream. If I thought I could conjure him every night, I’d drink myself into a stupor.
Not wanting to be late to work, I make a quick trip through the drive-thru for a breakfast sandwich and a coffee, then head into Ahz.
The first person I run into is Trevor. I hold up my hand as I pass him. “Not a word,” I warn. I walk into my office and close the door. My first task is to send him the song for the day, so I send “I Need Your Love” by Ellie Goulding and Calvin Harris before closing my phone and dig into my work for the day.
When my day ends, I head home and straight for bed. I pass Roxy as I enter the hallway. “Thanks for getting me home, Roxy.”
“I didn’t bring you home. Anthony did. Don’t you remember?” She sits up on the couch and tilts her head. Her eyes are as big as saucers. “You don’t remember. You texted him, and he came and got you. He brought you home and tucked you in. He didn’t leave until I got home. He was worried you’d get sick and drown in your vomit.”
I groan inwardly and take the walk of shame to my bedroom. I shed my work clothes and don my flannel pajamas. I pick out tomorrow’s song and set up the queue to have it sent automatically. I decide to do that for the rest of the week. I already know what I want him to hear.
Wednesday, he’ll hear “Dreaming with a Broken Heart” by John Mayer. I know it’s a song about a man, but I believe he felt that way when I blindsided him by my distrust.
Thursday, I’m sending him “Still into You” by Paramore. The message here is that I still love him and want him back.
Friday, he will receive the song “Somewhere Only We Know” by Lily Allen. It’s almost like me begging him to go back to the place we were before we got here. Saturday will be the last song I send. I choose “Just Say Yes” by Snow Patrol. I hope it’s self-explanatory. I want him to say yes to the prom, but mostly to me.
It’s hard not knowing what someone might be thinking. I wish I knew what was on his mind.