Chapter Six
Emmett
By breakfast, Emmett Novak had been accused of stealing another man’s girlfriend, staging a charity fundraiser for professional leverage, and emotionally seducing Piper Quinn with attentive eye contact.
The final accusation had the most supporting evidence.
He stood in the kitchen of Brennan’s largest rental cabin, reading the post Owen had published for the fifth time while six teammates argued around him.
The private message remained fixed at the top of the screen.
Sometimes I think Emmett sees me more clearly than you do.
Owen had added the caption beneath it.
She says nothing happened. She forgot to mention she wanted him first.
The post had crossed half a million views before eight in the morning.
Emmett did not care what strangers believed about him. He had spent most of his hockey career being called cold, unfriendly, arrogant, and possibly manufactured without the part of the brain responsible for interviews.
Piper cared.
Not because she needed strangers to like her.
Because Owen kept taking private pieces of her life and rearranging them until she became the villain he needed.
Emmett wanted to drive to his apartment.
Griffin had taken his truck keys.
“This is theft,” Emmett said.
“It is preventative leadership,” Griffin replied.
They stood on opposite sides of the kitchen island. Griffin held the keys in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other.
Beckett sat on the counter wearing sunglasses indoors and eating cereal directly from a mixing bowl.
Tyler paced near the windows, insisting the fake relationship contract had not been leaked through the official event account.
Miles leaned against the refrigerator, scrolling through comments with an expression that suggested humanity had disappointed him before breakfast.
Nate sat at the table beside Ava. Maren had been on the phone with Piper for the last ten minutes and had moved onto the back porch for privacy.
Emmett looked at the keys.
Griffin closed his fist around them.
“You are not confronting Owen.”
“I was going to speak to him.”
“You used the phrase remove his ability to upload.”
“A communication goal.”
“A felony goal.”
Tyler stopped pacing. “Technically, removing his ability could mean changing his password.”
Everyone looked at him.
Tyler reconsidered.
“Or violence. I hear it now.”
Emmett returned his attention to the post.
Owen had cropped the image tightly. There was no visible timestamp, no surrounding messages, and no context for why Piper had written it.
The words were still hers.
That fact sat beneath Emmett’s ribs with dangerous weight.
Sometimes I think Emmett sees me more clearly than you do.
He had not known Piper thought about him while she was dating Owen.
He had barely allowed himself to hope she noticed him at all.
“What did Piper say?” Ava asked.
Emmett looked toward the porch.
Maren remained outside, walking slowly along the railing with the phone pressed to her ear.
“She has not answered me,” he said.
He had called twice after seeing the post.
He had sent one message.
Tell me what you need.
No response.
Ava’s expression softened. “She is probably overwhelmed.”
“I know.”
“You cannot solve overwhelmed by showing up angry.”
“I am not angry with her.”
“No one thinks you are.”
Emmett glanced at Griffin.
Griffin lifted the coffee mug. “I think you are one poorly chosen sentence away from becoming angry with everyone.”
“Accurate,” Miles said.
Beckett raised his spoon. “I think anger should have wardrobe.”
“No,” Griffin replied.
“I was not asking.”
Emmett locked his phone.
“What do we know about the contract leak?”
Tyler lifted both hands. “The photograph was taken in the equipment tent, but it did not come through any official device.”
“Who had access?”
“All of us.”
“That is not useful.”
“There were also volunteers moving supplies in and out,” Tyler continued. “Paulson came inside once. Two sponsor representatives entered to collect signage. The mascot may have been involved.”
Griffin stared at him. “Why do you keep mentioning the mascot?”
“Because no one knows who was inside.”
“It was Mrs. Adler from the library.”
Tyler stopped.
“How do you know?”
“She removed the head while asking me where to find bottled water.”
Beckett lowered his spoon. “The mystery collapses.”
Emmett looked at Maren through the window.
Piper’s message bothered him more than the contract.
Not because it proved she had wanted him.
It did not.
Seeing someone clearly was not the same as choosing them.
Owen had posted it because he knew people would assume the rest.
He also knew Emmett would wonder.
That was the purpose.
Owen wanted suspicion inside the fake relationship before it had enough time to become anything stronger.
Emmett had no intention of helping him.
Maren returned to the kitchen.
Everyone became quiet.
“How is she?” Emmett asked.
Maren placed her phone facedown on the island.
“Angry.”
“At me?”
“At Owen. At the internet. At herself.”
Emmett’s chest tightened. “Why herself?”
“Because the message is real.”
Beckett stopped eating.
Maren looked directly at Emmett. “She sent it three months ago after the sponsor dinner at the golf club.”
Emmett remembered the night.
Piper had been coordinating a fundraising dinner for Lake Briar’s youth program. Owen arrived forty minutes late, spent most of the evening speaking to a sponsor’s daughter, and left before cleanup.
Piper stayed until two in the morning.
Emmett had found her outside behind the kitchen carrying three boxes of table decorations toward her car.
He took the boxes.
She argued.
He took the next four too.
When they finished, she sat on the curb and ate a dinner roll she had wrapped inside a napkin because she had not eaten during the event.
Emmett sat beside her.
They spoke for twenty minutes.
Mostly about nothing.
She told him she was tired of making beautiful experiences for people who never noticed what they cost.
He told her the table decorations looked expensive.
She laughed until she almost dropped the roll.
That was the night.
“What was the context?” he asked.
Maren took her time.
“It belongs to Piper.”
Emmett nodded.
The answer was correct.
He still hated it.
Maren continued. “She lost a client this morning.”
The air in the room shifted.
“What client?” Ava asked.
“The Arden wedding.”
Piper had been working on the Arden wedding for almost a year. Emmett knew because she mentioned it every time the weather changed. Six hundred guests, lakeside ceremony, three reception structures, and a bride who wanted fireworks synchronized with the string quartet.
It was one of the largest contracts Piper had ever secured.
“Why?” Emmett asked.
“The family does not want their event connected to public controversy.”
Emmett reached for his keys.
Griffin moved them behind his back.
“I am not going to Owen.”
“Where are you going?”
“To Piper.”
Maren watched him. “She said she wants space.”
Emmett stopped.
The instinct to go anyway arrived immediately.
He could bring breakfast.
He could take her phone.
He could tell every client who canceled that they were making a mistake.
He could fix nothing and still convince himself action counted as help.
Piper had already accused him of arranging every detail so she never had to be uncomfortable.
He looked at Maren. “Did she say how much?”
“What?”
“Space.”
Maren’s expression softened slightly. “She said she cannot talk to you until she understands why she sent the message.”
That answer was worse.
Emmett nodded once.
He took his coffee and walked toward the back door.
Griffin followed him onto the porch.
The morning was clear and cool. Sunlight moved across the lake, and several early boats had already left the marina. Somewhere near the smaller cabins, a child shouted about finding a frog.
Emmett rested both hands against the railing.
Griffin stood beside him.
“You are handling this better than expected.”
“I am considering swimming to another state.”
“That seems difficult from Virginia.”
“I did not say it was a good plan.”
Griffin sipped his coffee. “Do you believe her?”
“There is nothing to believe.”
“She wrote that you saw her more clearly than Owen.”
“Yes.”
“While she was dating him.”
“Yes.”
“You are not wondering whether she had feelings for you?”
Emmett looked toward the water.
“I am wondering.”
“Then why pretend you are not?”
“Because wondering does not entitle me to an answer before she is ready.”
Griffin nodded.
Emmett glanced at him. “You look surprised.”
“I have known you for three years. Emotional restraint usually means refusing to speak until everyone gives up.”
“This is different.”
“Yes.”
Griffin looked toward the cabin windows. “You really like her.”
Emmett did not fill it.
“That was not a question.”
“I know.”
“Why did you never do anything?”
“She was with Owen.”
“Before Owen.”
Emmett remembered the roof of the rental office.
The storm.
Piper’s wet hair sticking to her cheeks while she tied down a sponsor banner and called him an overgrown safety violation.
“I waited too long.”
Griffin looked at him. “That is unusually human.”
“Do not share it.”
“No promises.”
The porch door opened.
Beckett stepped outside with the cereal bowl.
“Piper is here.”
Emmett turned so quickly that Griffin’s coffee nearly spilled.
A white SUV had stopped beside the cabin.
Piper climbed out.
She wore black leggings, a loose blue sweater, and sunglasses that covered most of her face. Her hair was twisted into a knot that looked as though she had done it while angry.
She walked toward the porch holding a cardboard box.
Emmett started down the steps.
Then stopped.
Space.
Piper noticed.
Her stride slowed.
She looked at the three men on the porch. “Why does this feel like an intervention hosted by people with no qualifications?”
Beckett lifted his bowl. “I brought grains.”
Griffin took the bowl from him and pushed him toward the door.
“Inside.”
“You cannot remove nourishment from conflict.”
“I am testing that.”
Beckett disappeared into the cabin.
Griffin followed, leaving Emmett alone on the porch.
Piper climbed the steps and held out the box.