Chapter Eight #2
Feeling lower than she’d ever felt in her life, she crept out of bed and tiptoed over to his door, which he’d left ajar.
He was already asleep. The dim hall light cast a dreamy glow into his room and showed her that his sleeping face was relaxed and peaceful.
Her gut clenched, and she felt the sting of tears gathering in her eyes.
How could she wake him up just to tell him he might not be real in the morning?
Clutching one arm around her stomach, she retreated to her room.
Back in her borrowed bed, she allowed a few tears to slip free as she gave in and closed her eyes.
Sleep came quickly on the heels of the tequila binge, and her pillow dried her tears as she drifted off.
She woke in the same bed the next morning and felt a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.
On the one hand—Yay! She hadn’t murdered Will.
On the other hand… Well, she was still stuck, wasn’t she?
She needed to leave at some point. It was impossible to say how time was passing back in her world, but she doubted time there had simply paused when she disappeared.
Then again, she’d gone to sleep on a Tuesday night and woken up on a Thursday morning.
In a book. So what the hell did she know?
Feeling groggy and desperately grateful for the spare toothbrush Will had found her the night before, she got up to use the bathroom and brush away the taste of old tequila.
A few minutes later, the smell of bacon guided her to the kitchen.
Will was at the stove. Coffee in the pot.
She felt like kissing him. Then remembered that would be a supremely bad idea.
Best to maintain a platonic relationship with the hunky romance novel character.
“Morning,” she said, helping herself to some coffee. He’d kindly left a mug out for her.
Will turned to her, and his eyes flicked up and down.
She knew what he saw—her hair was mussed, she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt, and her eyes were still half closed from sleep.
In other words, she was a mess. But the way his gaze lingered for a moment before he turned away said maybe he didn’t think so.
“Sleep okay?” he asked.
Emmy thought of her crisis of conscience the night before. “Fell asleep almost immediately. Thanks for letting me crash here.”
“I’m not about to turn you out on the street. You can bunk here until… until you don’t have to anymore.”
“Thank you,” she said quietly, knowing he was hurting still.
“I hope you’re okay with bacon and toast for breakfast.”
“Sounds great.” She thought of the way he’d looked at her a moment ago. “I’m just going to go change.”
“You’re fine with what you’re wearing.”
She let out her breath in a quick laugh. “I’ll bet you’re fine with what I’m wearing. But yeah… just give me a sec.”
When she returned wearing the outfit she’d purchased the day before, he’d already set the table. The toaster popped right as she walked in, so she detoured there to grab the toast and drop it onto the waiting plate.
“I want to buy more clothes,” she commented as she sat down, “but I don’t want to take more of your money. And I don’t think I can stand any more meet-cutes.”
“Don’t worry about my money. My grandfather left me a chunk, and, given the circumstances, I’m not really worried about spending it.”
“That’s generous of you, but there’s still the problem of the hopeless romantics out there waiting to pounce on me.”
“I’ll go into town with you today. If anyone tries to sweep you off your feet, I’ll intervene.”
Emmy thought this over as she munched on a slice of bacon. “That could work.”
“For you, yeah. I’m still wondering if I’m going to accidentally wander into a scene from a book. Is anyone going to interact with me normally? Or is everyone besides you going to be on some kind of script?”
“I don’t know. I only read the back cover and like… five chapters.” Another thought struck her. “Maybe… maybe that’s how I get out. You know, if the book reaches its conclusion…”
Will looked at her with sheer disbelief written all over his face. “I’m not going to force myself to fall in love with some woman I don’t even like so you can get out of this.”
“I’m not saying you have to. I’m brainstorming, okay?
This is a ridiculous situation. Is some part of me still back in the—” She caught herself before she said real world.
“In my world? Or am I gone? Physically in the book? My sister’s wedding is on Saturday.
” She had to pause to swallow back the pain and panic that statement induced, but some of it leaked out anyway.
“How long before she notices I’m gone? Will she report me missing?
Delay the wedding? What if I never get out?
” Feeling agitated, she got up to pace the room.
“Do you know what my unexplained disappearance would do to my family? And even if I do get back, I might find out I lost my job from being gone with no warning. That, and I’d have to live with the possibility that I might have taken your life. ”
She felt his hands on her shoulders and nearly leaped out of her skin. She’d thought he was still sitting at the table. Gently, Will turned her around. His eyes found hers, his expression steely.
“We’ll find you a way out,” he said quietly. “And when we do… I want you to take me with you.”
“What?”
“You think I can let you leave me behind now that I know the truth? No way. I want out. Take me back with you to the real world.” The way he emphasized the words made it clear he’d known earlier what she’d been about to say.
“That’s not possible.”
“You’re going to talk to me about ‘possible’ when we’re standing here in a book. We’re in a book!” he repeated in a near shout. “So yeah, you’re going to find a way out. That’s one promise. Here’s another one. When you get out, I’m going to go with you.”
He was right. She had no concept of what was possible or impossible anymore. That line had been redrawn when she’d woken up in his bed, and she didn’t know who had erased it or where they’d put the new one. Hell, why not? She’d try to take the protagonist of the novel out of the book.
“Okay,” she said. “Now take me into town so I can buy shirts without getting hit on. Then we can come up with some kind of plan to get us out of here.”
When they got into his car a few minutes later, Emmy caught Will staring at the cupholder.
“Planning a trip to Canada?” she asked. “Wait… no. You were going to give those to Bright, weren’t you?”
“I was, but not anymore. I’m staying far away from her.”
Emmy didn’t say anything else as he started the car and pulled out of the garage. But her curiosity got the best of her.
“Maybe I could bring them to her for you.”
He cut her a quick look before returning his eyes to the road, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”
“Will you hate me if I admit I’m curious?”
“Let me think about that…”
She punched his arm.
“Ow! Okay, I won’t hate you. But what if you go in there and end up with twelve guys all looking to woo their way into your pants?”
“Oh… right. Damn.” She fell silent and looked out the window.
Though she was trying not to pout, she must have looked disappointed, because Will rolled his eyes and said, “Fine. I’ll go with you to take the coins to her. But if she starts hitting on me, I’m out of there.”
“Deal.”
*
She’d named her store Bright Ideas.
Emmy and Will stood outside staring in silence for a conspicuously long time, but Emmy was too preoccupied to care if she earned some funny looks.
“This is…” she said, not knowing how to finish the thought.
“Yeah.”
“What does she even sell here?”
Emmy studied the window display, saw a vase bursting with flowers on a tiny end table that appeared to be made, at least in part, of old license plates.
Beside the table was an easy chair that sported a cushion with Rosie the Riveter on it.
The words “Girl Boss” occupied the speech bubble in lieu of “We Can Do It!”
“Jury’s still out,” Will said in response to her question. “Let’s get this over with.”
They pushed their way inside. Aside from two old women who were browsing and chattering, Emmy didn’t see any other people in the store.
Most importantly, she didn’t see any sexy men (besides Will).
She hadn’t been accosted at all since going out with Will.
She had a shopping bag loaded with clothes dangling from her hand, and she’d purchased them without so much as a single unwanted “Hey there.”
They found Bright at the register, rearranging a display of… yep, those were bracelets made out of denim. Jean bracelets. Jacelets? When Bright saw Will, she smiled broadly.
“Hey, you! Welcome to Bright Ideas. Thanks for coming!”
“Yeah, no problem,” Will mumbled, taking the coins out of his pocket and placing them unceremoniously on the counter. “Feel free to toss these if you can’t find a use for them.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something.” She swept them off the counter and into her hand. “Thank you so much!”
“Did you make everything in here yourself?” Emmy asked.
Bright blinked at her as if she hadn’t realized Emmy was there.
Then the smile was back. “Not all of it. Some of the pieces are acquired from local artists, but I found all the antiques you see on display, and I restored some of the wood furniture. I mostly make jewelry and decorative items. We hope everyone can find something unique here. Variety is the name of the game.” She shook her head, looking a little self-conscious.
“I’m sorry. I’m giving you the whole sales pitch and I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Bright.”
“Emmy.”
“Nice to meet you, Emmy. Feel free to browse. Let me know if anything catches your eye. I’m just going to put these in the back so I don’t lose them.”
With that, she walked away. Not even a wink or a flirtatious giggle for Will. They stood there for a few seconds, then Emmy shrugged. “She doesn’t look how I pictured her, but she’s sweet. Pretty. You sure you don’t want to…”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
“Okay, well she didn’t appear overly interested in you. Did you have any sense that you were acting out a scene there?”
“Maybe for the first part, but as soon as you spoke to her, that feeling went away. Did you see her face? It was like talking to you broke her out of the scene.”
The idea hit them at the same time, and they turned to stare at each other wide-eyed. When they were together, men didn’t hit on Emmy, and Bright didn’t hit on Will.
Emmy couldn’t believe it. Not only had the events of her life led her to be trapped in a romance novel, but to add insult to injury, they were going to have to rely on one of the most clichéd and contrived romantic comedy plots known to man.
They were going to have to pretend to be in a relationship.