13. Emma
THIRTEEN
Emma
It’s clear things are tense when I get to set and, for the first time, Matt’s not waiting for me. I stop by the cafeteria and get myself a cappuccino. Underwhelming. Disappointing. Especially after being spoiled for a week and a half. That’s what I get for slamming the door on his face last night.
But what else did he expect?
My plan with Tom hadn’t been set in motion yet. I’d gone home and replayed every moment shared, every secret revealed. Not wanting to bother Julia, I called my sister.
Olivia freaked. You can tell we’re related because the number of questions she fired at me was impressive. She’s a hopeless romantic, and according to her, there’s no way a man would go to those lengths to woo someone without there being some truth behind it.
And so, I was convinced to give him one real, no-writing-allowed date.
Only to get rejected.
Don’t tell me twice. I took my shot, and that’s that. I’ve gone through enough failed relationships to not take it personally. Am I annoyed I let Matt see my vulnerable side? Sure. But hey, with it ending before it even started, we’ve saved ourselves—and Julia and Harrison—a lot of headaches.
He’s in his trailer on a scene break, in full action-hero costume. The black T-shirt he’s wearing is dirty and torn across his chest, leaving a sliver of abs on display. Not that I’m looking.
“Morning,” I say, taking the armchair in front of him.
“Hey.” He doesn’t look up from his phone. “How was the movie?”
Nothing special. Tom was great. He treated and got us a bucket of popcorn with extra butter. But even in the silence, it was a bit awkward. Matt’s silence is never weird. Just dangerous.
Maybe I’ve been out of the game too long. Either way, I don’t want to call it quits yet. He deserves that I at least try.
“Great. We watched Atticus Bailey’s new release. Piece of art, I have to admit.”
Bailey is Matt’s fiercest rival. The press calls them ‘action superstars’ every time there’s drama over who will land the next role, or whose movie franchise has more explosions.
For sure, I think he’ll have something to say, but he doesn’t take the bait.
“Cool,” he deadpans. Then, his eyes meet mine. “Did you get a goodnight kiss?”
My mouth drops. He’s overstepping and he knows it. He probably only does this with me.
“None of your business.”
Matt smirks and goes back to his phone.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
We’ve summoned him into existence, because right on cue, Tom calls.
“Speaking of the devil…” I say, dialing up the tease. “Who knows? Tonight might be the night. Maybe I’ll invite him in.”
Even as I say it, something twists in my chest.
This has him dropping his phone straight onto his face. I snort a laugh when he groans. His attention is fully on me now.
“Hi Tom!” I answer. “Thank you again for yesterday.”
“It was my pleasure,” Tom says. “Listen, I know it’s unconventional to ask you out again so soon, but I’ve managed to score a table tonight at Saona and I was wondering if you’d like to join me.”
“Saona?” I repeat, louder than necessary. Matt stands and pretends to pour himself water to get closer. “It’s basically impossible to get in there.”
“I pulled some strings.”
“I would love to,” I tell him. “I’ll get seafood, you get steak. We can share.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he chirps. “Send me your address. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Perfect, I can’t wait.”
And I mean it. It’s about time I start giving my effort to the people that appreciate it. People who don’t make me question what’s real.
Nerves don’t happen to me. I make people nervous. But for some reason, I’m already on my third outfit, and I only have fifteen minutes until pickup. After Matt’s rejection, I want to make a good impression.
I slip into a black dress and pause for a second in front of the mirror. It hugs my figure perfectly. Snatches my waist, skims my hips. Ideal for the fancy restaurant we’re going to. The halter neckline makes my shoulders look sharper. Elegant without trying too hard.
Everything else stays minimal. I don’t want to be the center of attention, so I go with simple gold hoops. Then, the shoes. Here’s where I need some power to make up for my five-foot-two frame. I put on my black strappy heels, and the dress falls exactly how it should, brushing the floor.
Clutch in hand, I touch up my red lipstick before tossing it inside.
At seven sharp, my doorbell rings.
Tom stands on the other side of the door, his brown hair slicked back, wearing black slacks and a crisp white shirt tucked in. Never looked better. Yet the butterflies in my belly are still dead asleep.
“You clean up nice,” I tell him with a smile.
“You’re one to talk,” he says, brown eyes meeting mine. “Wow.”
“Ready to go?” I ask, a touch too quickly, feeling a tiny bit uncomfortable.
Twenty minutes later, we’re taking a seat at a candlelit table at Saona. It’s dark, intimate, all white tablecloths and polished cutlery. Packed, but not loud.
“How’s surfing going?” I ask, after the waitress drops off the drink menu.
“Turns out it isn’t for me.” He laughs, unaware that he just killed the one thing I thought we might have in common aside from work. “I couldn’t figure it out. Gave up shortly after you guys left the other day.”
Oof. Giving up is not in my vocabulary.
“I’ll be glad to cheer you on from shore,” he adds, probably noticing the shift in my expression.
Julia’s my cheerleader. I technically don’t need another one. I would want my significant other to get dirty with me. It’s not as fun when I can’t fully share those memorable moments with my man.
My man.
I resist the urge to check my phone to see if there’s anything from Matt. I’m on a date. A good one. No need for that.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I ask, hoping he says something interesting enough to steer my mind off the actor.
“I hate to say it this way, but I’m a gym bro.” Tom chuckles. “I enjoy some good old exercise. Treadmill, weights… I can be in there all day.”
I hate the gym. The lack of vitamin D drives me nuts. Also, the unnecessary grunting. I’d rather go on another dreadful hike with Matt than exercise inside. At least that way I get fresh air and a reason to complain.
“Matt,” Tom says suddenly.
Was I thinking aloud?
“What?”
“Isn’t that him?” he says, pointing somewhere behind me.
I turn and sure enough, there he is, charming the hostess. His eyes meet mine and he smirks. There’s no way this is a coincidence.
“Let’s ignore him,” I say, brushing it off. “I’ve been seeing too much of him lately, and I really want to focus on dinner.”
It would be easier if my pulse hadn’t spiked with the mere mention of him.
“That might be difficult, seeing as he’s walking over to us.”
Nope. Not going to let him ruin my night. Not a problem. We’ll be polite, say hello, and then go back to talking about the wonders of the gym. Can’t wait.
“I can’t believe this!” Matt says when he finally reaches our table. “Tom! Great to see you, man.”
What a performer. Acting like they’re lifetime friends. Tom nods, shaking his hand.
“Oh my, excuse my rudeness,” Matt says, taking a step to the side to showcase the girl hooked onto his arm. “This is Stella.”
Stella is the complete opposite of me. She’s tall. No heels needed to tower over Matt’s shoulders. Long, straight blonde hair shining under the lights. She’s wearing a tight, red leather skirt with a matching top—model-level everything.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, with a smile. I don’t let my eyes linger on Matt’s all-black outfit, or the way it matches my own. “Enjoy your dinner.”
“Nonsense,” Matt adds with a flick of his wrist. “Why don’t we join you? It’ll be wonderful. We didn’t get to talk enough the other day, Tom.”
My date is stunned into silence—because what the hell is going on? But of course, he’s so nice he doesn’t have the guts to decline.
“Sure.”
Matt slides in next to him, leaving Stella to me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a girl’s girl, but this situation is rubbing me the wrong way, and I’m in no mood to chat up a stranger.
We’d been waiting ten minutes for the waitress to take our drink and appetizer order, but the second the actor joins us, she’s suddenly available.
“Are you ready to order?”
She’s literally only looking at Matt.
“Would you like some red wine?” Tom asks me.
I’m about to answer when Matt interrupts.
“Oh, Mills is more of a beer girl.”
Deep breath, I think to myself, closing my eyes for half a second.
I wince. He’s right. And I’d love nothing more than to prove him wrong, but I can’t stand wine.
“I’ll stick to water,” I mutter. “Thank you, though.”
Tom deserves credit. He handles it like a champ and goes on to order appetizers for the table.
The waitress brings a plate of golden, crispy calamari with spicy aioli, and stuffed mushrooms with crab filling.
“So,” Tom says, serving me a bit of both, “you up to joining me at the gym tomorrow? If you’re not too busy at work.”
He winks at Matt, but he shakes his head.
“Doesn’t go well with her,” he says. “She needs to be under direct sunlight.”
I’m growing more and more agitated with every word that comes out of his mouth, but I plaster on the fakest smile I can muster.
“Actually, I’d love that,” I say to Tom. “Maybe I’ve never had the right partner.”
“This is delicious,” Stella comments, clearly out the loop. It flies right over Matt’s head. I feel so bad for her. She doesn’t deserve this.
“I don’t know, guys…” Matt continues. “Doesn’t sound like a match.”
That’s it. I’ve had enough of the circus.
I wipe the corners of my mouth, then drop the napkin onto the table.
“I’m suddenly feeling out of sorts,” I tell Tom. “Can we take a rain check?”
He catches on fast and comes over to pull my chair back.
“Of course, Emma. I’ll get you home. Don’t worry about it.” He grabs my clutch. “I’m so sorry, guys. Maybe we can do this a different time. It was lovely to meet you, Stella. Give me a minute to get the bill.”
“Matthew’s got it. Right?”
Matt clears his throat and nods.
“Thank you, man. I’ll get you back some time.”
“Don’t worry.” He brushes him off, his eyes never leaving mine. “Get her home safely. See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll let you know how I’m feeling. I might need to take a day off.”
Yeah, I’m going to need a whole week away from his infuriating self.
“How about some tacos?” Tom asks, holding the restaurant door open for me.
I groan. I’m so angry I’ve lost all appetite.
“I can’t think about food right now,” I tell him honestly. “You planned this perfect evening, and it’s not fair on you. I’m so sorry.”
He nods. “That’s okay. I get it. That was weird.”
“It was more than weird. It was rude. I don’t know what he was thinking.” I’m blushing. Mortified, actually. I don’t understand what happened and I definitely can’t explain it.
“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” he says, trying to lighten the mood. “I still got to see you in this stunning dress.”
“I mean, would you do something like that?” I ask, still in shock. “What was his goal?”
“He seems extremely protective of you.” Tom shrugs. “None of my business and you don’t have to answer, but has there ever been something more between you two? That would explain it.”
I stop in my tracks right in front of the passenger door.
“What? No. Never. I can’t stand him,” I say loud enough to convince both him and myself. “The only reason I even took this assignment was because Martha promised that if it went well, I could finally leave The Scoop behind.”
That used to feel like the only thing I wanted.
“Damn, you’ve been going after that forever.”
I nod and he opens the door for me.
“Yeah. I thought it was going to be easy, but it’s just…
annoying,” I complain once he starts driving.
“All anyone’s said was how great he is. He’s memorized all these random things about me—don’t even know how—to charm me.
Since that wasn’t enough, he insisted on these ‘outings.’ Hence, the surfing. ”
“Well, didn’t seem like a good guy to me with how he acted tonight.”
I scoff. “Think I can quote you for the article?”
“You’ll be done in no time,” he encourages. “You’re the best there is.”
“That’s if I survive it. I’ve already been dragged hiking and sailing. Who knows what’s next?”
“I mean…” he says, pulling onto my street, “at least he’s not taking you to weird rich-people parties.”
I hum. I want to argue it’s still a waste of my time, but I can’t. The truth is, I had fun.
Tom walks me to my door but keeps a couple of feet between us.
“I was th—”
“Listen, I—”
We both laugh nervously.
“Sorry, go ahead,” I say.
“Tonight was great, but I think this isn’t working the way I expected,” he says, his voice sincere. “You have a lot going on right now with Matt, and I think it’ll be hard to get to know each other with him around.”
My first people-pleaser instinct is to fix it. Tell him I can make time, that I can figure it out, and that in less than two weeks I’ll be back at the office. But even in my head, that sounds exhausting.
Also, I can’t find it in me to start something with someone I don’t feel even the tiniest spark for. It wouldn’t be fair, to him or to me. Emma Miller doesn’t play with people’s feelings.
“You’re a catch, Tom. I hope you know,” I tell him with a smile. “Gym bro and all.”
“It would’ve grown on you, I’m sure,” he teases. “Friends?”
“Friends,” I agree.
I head inside, and for the first time all night, it’s quiet. Almost too quiet.
And the only thing I can think about is Matt.