24. Dawson
CHAPTER 24
DAWSON
Romcom Book
I’m sorry, Gold Dog. I’m not ghosting you. Promise. The boss has me working crazy hours.
Gold Dog
So sorry, RB! I thought you were catfishing me.
I could never do that to you. In fact, I was looking forward to meeting you if the team can reach the magic number. You’re the only friend who could give me dating advice.
You don’t trust the dating advice on TikTok??
That’s the worst.
I thought things were going well?
Everything has been almost perfect. But there are choices I have to make soon.
If he’s worth choosing, then choose him.
It’s not that easy, Gold Dog. I feel like you’re the only person who can help, because you’re not invested. I really like him, more than I’ve liked anyone else. But I’m afraid of making a huge mistake. What is wrong with me?
Nothing is wrong with you. Fear makes us second-guess ourselves. Pretend this isn’t your life and it’s someone else’s. What would you say then?
I can’t give advice when it IS my life.
Then pretend you’re writing a story. What would your character do?
But that’s not real life.
You’re writing your own life story, RB. How do you want it to end?
“Way to block that last shot,” Scotty says to me on the way out of the ice rink after game four. We just finished the post-game press conference and I’m eager to see Emmy. Lately, she’s been on my mind more than hockey.
“Thanks,” I say, glancing at the other guys who’ve joined us in the parking lot. “Team effort.”
“You were on fire tonight,” Dan adds, catching up to the group.
“Did you see Emmy watching you?” Ted smirks.
“Did you see Harlow watching you?” I reply with a grin. It’s easy to dodge questions about Emmy when the other guys have girlfriends.
I shove my hands in my pockets. “She’s not watching me. She’s supporting her brother. It’s what families do.”
“But she was cheering for you ,” Dan says with a slap on my shoulder. “You don’t have to hide it from me. It’s about time you made it public. Now you need to get her to wear your jersey.”
“What do you mean?” The heat climbs my neck. There’s no way I can deny this to my best friend. He’ll know in a heartbeat I’m lying.
He laughs. “It’s not a secret that you’re dating my sister.”
I look around at the group of guys in the parking lot. Noah, Scotty, Cooper, and Ted wait for my reaction. “You all knew?”
“Do you think we’re stupid?” Cooper asks.
“No.” I glance at Dan, worried how this is going to affect our friendship. Emmy and I have been extremely careful about keeping our dating private. “How long have you known?”
“I knew you had a crush on her when I brought you home for fall break in college,” Dan says. “But she was my baby sister, and there was no way I was letting you go near her back then.”
The guys chuckle.
“And now?” I ask. I wasn’t planning on having this conversation in front of my teammates, but I told Emmy that a team has to trust each other. If I can’t be honest with them, I don’t belong in the NHL. “Do you trust me dating your sister?”
“If I wasn’t okay with it, you’d already know,” he says, tossing his bag in the backseat of his car. “If you can win Emmy over, you have my blessing.”
“One more thing,” I call to Dan as he climbs into the car. “Do you think Emmy would ever leave Maple Falls?”
He shakes his head. “It would take a miracle.”
He gives me a final wave as he speeds out of the parking lot.
I blow out a puff of air, readying myself to meet Emmy at The Glass Olive in town. Even though I still haven’t blocked the magic number of shots in one game, I need to come clean about Gold Dog. As much as I like how honest she is with me online, the guilt is eating me alive.
My phone vibrates in my pocket.
Emmy
Sorry I’m bailing on our date tonight. There’s a press conference about the new store. I was going to tell you, but Stewart found me first and insisted I ride with him.
She’s with Stewart? I shoot a message back.
Dawson
I’m coming to get you.
Emmy
Don’t. It’s an invite-only event at his house. They won’t let you in.
I’m coming anyway. You can make an appearance. Then I’ll steal you away.
I arrive at the Harrisons’ house, ready to pull off Operation Save Emmy . I sneak through the back door that the caterers use to access the kitchen and take a sharp right, heading down a back hallway until I reach the entrance to a huge vaulted foyer where the Harrisons mingle with reporters, local politicians, and Maple Falls’ elite crowd of socialites. Unlike the night of the Halloween party, the mood is formal and stiff.
When I spy Emmy, she’s standing next to Stewart, looking bored out of her mind. Her boss is chatting with a businessman, completely ignoring her. Emmy’s eyes flit around the room as she takes a sip of red frothy punch. I wish I could just sweep her into my arms and pull her into a corner for a moment alone.
A large marble statue and a few well-placed plants give me a good hiding spot to text her.
Dawson
Look across the room at the huge white statue.
Emmy skims the message on her phone, then her eyes flick toward me.
Emmy
Do you know that the statue that’s covering you is a half-naked cherub?
It is?!
I glance up and see a baby’s bottom above me. When I look back at Emmy, she’s covering her laugh.
Emmy
You really need to pay more attention.
She weaves through the crowd, checking over her shoulder to make sure Stewart isn’t tracking her. “I told you not to come. If Stewart sees you, he’ll ask you to leave.”
“He won’t have to if we’re hiding. Follow me.” I knit my fingers through hers and sneak down a long back hall.
“What are we doing?” she asks.
“If I can’t take you on a date, I’ll bring the date to you.”
We hurry down the steps.
“But I’m supposed to be mingling with the uppity snobs of Maple Falls.”
“Would you rather do that?” I ask, stopping on the stairs.
“There’s no question who I’d rather be with,” she says, holding my gaze. “I’d choose you.”
My lips curve into a grin. “That’s what I hoped you’d say.”
We head downstairs, past the game room and movie theater, before we finally stop at the end of the hall. I type in the code, hoping they haven’t changed it. The lock clicks open.
The wine cellar looks the same as it did four years ago. The rough-cut terracotta stone floor and rows of custom wood shelving spread before us like a wall puzzle. There’s a pop of color from the neck of each bottle, royal blue and deep red, color-coordinated by row so it looks like a Pinterest picture. The thermometer on the wall reads a chilly sixty degrees.
I shut the door behind us. “Take this.” I slide off my coat and drape it over her shoulders.
“How did you know the code would be the same?”
“People are creatures of habit. They don’t change unless they have to.” Or maybe, like so many things this fall, it was meant to be. Coming to Maple Falls and seeing Emmy again are things I can’t explain. They just felt right.
I reach into my pocket and pull out two peppermint patties. “Sorry it’s not cheesecake. It wouldn’t fit in my pocket.”
She takes the silver-wrapped candy. “These are my favorite.”
“I know, Emmy. I know all your favorites.”
We settle on the stone floor together, same place as four years ago, and eat the minty chocolate.
“I still don’t understand,” she says between bites. “Why here? ” she asks, a puzzled expression on her face.
“Sometimes, you look back at something that happened and have regrets about what you didn’t do.” I pause, then look at her. “Do you remember what you told me in this room four years ago?”
“Things I regret?” She crumples the silver foil into a ball. “That game was like a confessional booth. As soon as I told you those stories, I felt so humiliated. Replayed it a million times in my head.”
“You gave me an opportunity to tell you how I felt, and I couldn’t say it. I could have asked you out, but I made a dating pact instead. And that kills me. Because I missed all these years when I could have been with you.”
She stares at me for a beat. “You regret not asking me out?”
I nod. “I wanted to kiss you that night. You looked so beautiful as Elizabeth Bennet.”
“You did?” she says, eyes wide.
“More than anything.” I rub one hand across her cheek. “Confession. I still want to kiss you.”
“Dawson.” She draws back. “It’s my turn for a confession. This fall with you has felt like a dream. But in a week, you’re headed back to South Carolina to pack up your life and move to Seattle. I don’t see this going beyond your stay here.”
I take her hand in mine. “Why couldn’t it? This has been the best two months of my life.”
“Because everything we’ve had this fall is temporary. Your life and mine couldn’t be more different. As much as I want it to last, it’s like finishing a good book. I might have a terrible hangover afterwards, but I know the book was never reality.”
“Confession,” I answer, cupping her face with my hands. “It’s always been real for me.”
She studies me, and I see something swirling in her eyes.
“I need to talk to you about something else,” I say. “The guy you’ve been chatting with online. Gold Dog.”
A door slams in the hallway. “Emerson?”
“Oh, no.” Emmy pulls away, her eyes flicking toward the voice outside the door. “It’s Stewart.”
She stands, giving me an apologetic look. “I can’t let him find you here. I’m sorry. You’ll have to tell me later.”
“What I need to say can’t wait.” I grasp her arm to keep her from leaving.
“I’m sorry, Dawson.” Then she slips out the door.
I sneak into the back of the press conference and hide in the back, disappointed I couldn’t confess the truth to Emmy. From this angle I can see her but stay hidden from almost everyone else.
Stewart welcomes the guests and then pushes a button on a remote control. A huge projection appears behind him featuring the new logo for Harrisons.
Stewart points to the logo. “Looks good, doesn’t it? Harrisons will become the premier big box store for home goods and books as soon as we buy out the stores around us.”
Emmy crosses her arms. She looks miserable.
“Emerson Roberts has agreed to stay on,” Stewart says with a pleased smile. “But we won’t be keeping the coffeeshop, so those workers will be let go.”
Those workers —as in Neesha.
Emmy’s frown is barely perceptible, but I see the lines deepen. She loves Falling for Books and working with her friend. This new store won’t be anything like the quaint small-town bookstore. It’s a piece of Maple Falls’ history erased from the map.
A local reporter raises his hand. “How do you know the stores around you will sell?”
“They will if we offer them enough,” he says with a smug grin.
Another reporter lifts his hand. “I’d like to direct my question to Miss Roberts.” He turns to her, and she shifts, uncomfortable with the attention. “If you’re staying, what will happen to you and Dawson Hayes?”
“Excuse me?” she asks, obviously distressed. “That’s off topic and none of your business.”
The reporter doesn’t hesitate. “You’re helping launch this new store. How will you find time for a long-distance relationship?”
Stewart flinches. This was supposed to be about Harrisons. It’s taken a painfully sharp turn in the wrong direction.
She pauses, then juts her chin out. “Who says I’m with Dawson Hayes?”
“Everyone,” the reporter says and all the guests chuckle. “You can’t hide the fact his motorcycle was parked outside your grandmother’s house one night recently.”
Her lips tighten. “Also, none of your business.”
If I told them I fell asleep on the couch next to her, no one would believe me. Hockey guys have a certain reputation—one I’ve been fighting ever since I went pro.
“Are you denying you and Dawson are a couple?” a photographer asks.
She pauses, looking around. “I haven’t worn his jersey in public. So take that for what it is.”
“We’ve been wondering how long you’d make us wait for a jersey picture,” another reporter says, and the others laugh. “But if you’re not a couple, how can you explain this picture?”
The man holds up his phone and shows the picture of Emmy and me kissing. Apparently, the photographer found a buyer.
“Where’d you get that?” She looks flustered, like she’d rather run away than face the tidal wave of questions.
It’s not that our kiss is something that should embarrass us. It’s a beautiful thing. I’m proud to call her mine, to show the world what she means to me.
But for her, it’s a train wreck of our public and private lives. We’ll be trolled. The haters will come with their claws out, ready to tear us down. People feel like they have the right to judge a picture, but they don’t.
“What else happened after that between you and Mr. Hayes?” another reporter asks.
“Oh, I could give you a few guesses,” someone says with a laugh.
Emmy’s face heats.
Anger rises inside me. This picture makes Emmy look bad, and it’s my fault. She’s never been someone with a reputation. But dating me has given her one. I invited her into my world without preparing her for what it’s like. The obnoxious press with their inappropriate questions. The intrusive comments into your personal life. People who want to know everything about you—from what you eat for breakfast to who you go out with. It’s unfair. But that’s the price you pay for fame.
“So, what’s your answer?” a woman asks from the front row. “Are you his latest fling?”
Emmy flinches at the statement. Maybe it’s what she wanted to believe at the beginning, but to hear someone calling her that in public stings.
From the back of the room, I finally step forward. “I can answer that.”
The entire room wheels around. My eyes meet hers. I can see the fear and uncertainty rippling in them.
I know how to handle the press. Even though I’d rather cut off my own ear than answer that question, it’s part of my responsibility, especially with her.
I push through the middle of the room. If I’m making a public statement about our relationship, I need to have her next to me.
“This is not a fling,” I say, keeping my eyes on her. “I’m fully committed to us.” Then I turn to face the group. “We’ve tried to keep it private. That’s why we didn’t come out publicly about our relationship.”
“Will it continue when you leave?” a photographer asks.
I look at Emmy, then back at the audience. “That’s up to her,” I say. “There’s no question for me.”
Emmy looks at the floor, avoiding the attention.
Tell them the truth, Emmy.
She waits a beat, then finally looks at me and doesn’t respond.
That’s when the sound of laughter erupts in the front of the room.
I turn to see Stewart, shaking his head, a delirious smile on his face. He’s looking from Emmy to me, like he can’t believe this. We’re a joke to him.
He steps toward Emmy. “You seriously think a guy with his reputation would make a good boyfriend? He’s with a new girl every month. It won’t even last until Thanksgiving.”
“There are things you don’t know about Dawson Hayes,” she says, folding her arms. “And I don’t care what you think.”
“Why don’t you ask these people what they think?” He turns toward the group. “How many of you think this relationship will last past fall?”
A few hands go up, but most stay quiet. A few even look at Emmy with pity. I curl my fists.
“Until that picture went public, I knew you wouldn’t believe me,” Stewart says.
Her eyebrows rise. “You’re the one who published the picture?”
“A photographer asked if I wanted to buy the picture. As an employee of the bookstore, I have a vested interest in it. I thought if the truth finally came out, you’d finally realize it. Oddly enough, the picture came at the perfect time: for the launch of Harrisons.”
I clench my teeth. He’s not only getting back at Emmy and me, he’s using this to his advantage. To bring more attention to his new store.
Whispers erupt across the room. Noreen Harrison is furiously texting someone. This will be all over Maple Falls in the next hour.
“Any more questions?” Stewart says, looking over the reporters in the room.
“I need to leave,” Emmy mutters under her breath before slipping through the exit nearby.
“Wait, Emmy,” I call, running after her in the hall. “We’ll get this figured out. I promise.”
She doesn’t stop. Won’t even face me. Just heads out the door. “I can’t right now, Dawson. Not after what just happened.”