Truth is, Emmy will always have more than me. What could I ever give her that she doesn’t already have access to?
Nothing.
That thought nearly breaks me.
In the end, I open my voicemail screen and delete her message.
It’s probably for the best, anyway.
Chapter 17
Emmy
I roll the faux-wooden ball down the lane with so much force I’m slightly worried the ball is going to break something. Thankfully, it doesn’t. It sinks into the right-hand five hundred hole, resulting in a nearly perfect game. I can’t say that I’m enjoying myself, but I needed to blow off some steam. Since I’m not a runner, I thought a nice round, or ten, of Skee-Ball would work. I know, the two aren’t really comparable, but I’ve got a Skee-Ball machine in my apartment. Who wouldn’t opt for a few rounds?
I’ve got music pumping through one of our voice-enabled speakers, but the combination of my favorite mix and my favorite arcade game doesn’t seem to be helping my mood.
It’s been three days since I woke up in my bed sans Jake. I’m throwing around a lot of anger at what happened. Anger is better than sadness though, which is something I’m also struggling with. Every time I start to feel sad, I just get pissed. I’m a roller coaster of emotions. Hence the force behind my Skee-Ball game.
I’m miffed because I opened up to Jake. I told him everything. There is only one other person in the world who knows all my issues and I currently live with her. I know Jake wouldn’t be able to fully understand my life and how it was and why I walked away, but it felt like he was accepting of it. That he was able to understand my choices. I’m also mad because of the sex.
We had amazing sex and our chemistry was through the roof. We’d been dancing around all that sexual tension for a couple weeks and once we made fireworks, he bolted.
Here’s where the sadness comes in. I feel like I lost someone, someone extremely important to me. Sure, it’s only been a couple weeks, but we got to know each other. We had gotten used to each other; I came to rely on him. Now he’s gone. There’s a clear void there. It’s like, as quickly he took up residence in my heart, he vanished just as fast.
Then I just start to feel stupid. Stupid me, for thinking we were anything more than what we were. We were never supposed to be real. I should have stayed strong, fought the pull. Feeling embarrassed about my stupidity just makes me mad all over again.
I turn off the machine, done with my attempt to roll away my anger, just as Becca walks through the front door.
“Guess what?” she yells over my music, walking into the kitchen. There’s a brown paper bag in her arm. If I were to guess, she’s brought us food.
“What?” I eye her but throw myself onto the couch.
“Today is the day you get over Jake Harper and move on.” She busies herself by taking things out of the bag.
I cross my arms and glare at her.
She tells the speaker to turn off the music before replying, “You’ve been angry with a side of mopey for three days now over a fake relationship. It’s time to move on and I’ve brought in reinforcements.”
I don’t reply but increase my glare level.
She lifts the makings of a grilled cheese up for me to see and then waves around a pint of Phish Food ice cream. My attitude toward my bestie simmers just a bit.
“What kind of cheese did you get?” My tone is challenging.
“American, right from the deli, as well as cheddar and pepper jack. I figured you’d have two.”
Dang. She passed my grilled cheese test, so I can’t accuse her of making matters worse by making me talk about my failed fake relationship woes, when she’s gotten my favorite combo of melty cheese.
“So how do you propose I get over the maintenance man … today?” I might be a little less grouchy knowing there's cheesy goodness in my near future, but I’m in no way cured.
“Well, we will start by making a god-awful number of grilled cheese sandwiches. When we are done, we will eat ice cream and then about halfway through the pint, I will deliver you a kick-ass pep talk, and tomorrow when you wake up, you’ll be good as new. Ready to face the world with one less chip on that dainty little shoulder of yours.” She seems so sure of her plan.
I eye her skeptically but decide to throw her a bone. So, I get up and trade my seat on the couch for the stool at the bar area. Sliding onto the high stool, I tell her, “I don’t like being grouchy.”
“Aww, I don’t like you being grouchy, either.” She smiles as she gets to work on the sandwiches.
“Just give me the pep talk now so I don’t have to think about it while I eat my carbs.”
“Okay, good, because I didn’t think I was going to be able to wait.”
I roll my eyes at her confession.
“I know you feel like an idiot. You had a fake relationship with him and so you feel stupid for thinking it was more than that. But you shouldn’t because I think it would have happened to anyone. I mean, hello, Debra Messing totally fell for her man whore in The Wedding Date.” I snort. She continues, “Point is, you felt more than he did. That’s okay. Like seventy percent of relationships end because someone loved the other more.”
“I didn’t say anything about love. And I can’t help feel like you just made up that percentage.”
She hand-waves my remark. “Like sixty-five percent of statistics are made up anyway. I was making a point.”
I stare at her, trying to process what she just said, when she gives me a sly smile.
“Anyway, it happened and now it's over. Time to move on. Look at it this way, you had some much-needed sex.”
She has a point, I did need some really great sex.
She places the buttered bread on the skillet and my stomach rumbles.
“You are a strong, independent woman. You move on and find someone who wants all of you and your crazy. I promise you, it will happen.”
“I hear what you are saying, I know you are right. I just feel like I didn’t get any closure.”
“Closure on what? A fake relationship?” she challenges.
“I guess, but I swear, it didn’t feel fake anymore.”
“Then get closure.” She slides a spatula under the first sandwich to check the toastiness of the bread.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that message you left him isn’t going to help me get said closure.”
She sniffs. “Whatever. I was mad, and you had tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes when I got home Sunday afternoon. I needed to get something off my chest.”
“Yeah, well, maybe he didn’t listen to the message.” I really hope he didn’t listen. Bex wasn’t nice. Something about his little dick and knowing people who could make his life hell. She won’t go through with any of those mindless threats, but it probably pushed us both farther into the crazy-zone.
“So, you haven’t heard from him?” Her tone is more sympathetic now.
“Not a word. I haven’t even seen him around the building.”
She harrumphs in reply.
We are quiet for a while until she pulls the first grilled cheese off the heat and plates it.
“I’ll gladly make you more if you need them,” she offers, handing the plate to me.
“Surely you don’t think I can eat four of these?” I laugh.
“No, silly. Two are for me.”
We eat our grilled cheeses and then ice cream. We don’t bring up Jake again, opting instead to watch whatever popular competition show is currently airing on network television for a couple hours.
It’s about eight and I’m contemplating just going to bed. If I’m going to wake up without the fake-Jake chip on my shoulder tomorrow, I might as well give myself extra wallowing time in my bed.
I hear a knock at the door. I glance at Becca and she eyes the door. My heart rate quickens, and she pushes off the couch to answer it. She looks through the peephole, and her shoulders sag in relief.
“It’s your brother,” she says and then
swings the door open.
“To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit, Mr. King?” Becca snips. She’s known Levi as long as she’s known me. In high school, I thought that she might have had a crush on him. But to my knowledge nothing ever came of it. They’ve never not gotten along, but she’s always been on my side. She knows he is the cause of Jake finding out about my money. Or lack thereof.
He looks startled at her snip but walks into the apartment anyway. “I need to talk to Emmy.”
Closing the door behind him, she mutters under her breath, “Clearly, as you wouldn’t be here to see me.”
“Emmy, you haven’t returned my calls or my texts.” He seems annoyed.
“Yeah, well, I’m mad at you.” I cross my arms.
“What the hell for?” He stops mid-step and stares at me.
I cock my head and give him a “think about it” look.
Realization dawns on him. “Oh, for causing that rift between you and Jake?” He has the good grace to look ashamed. “I’m sorry about that, I hope I didn’t cause too much of an issue for you.” He continues to the couch and sits down beside me.
Becca snorts, shakes her head and tells us she’ll be in her room.
I ignore his comment, not really wanting to get into a thing about Jake right now. Turning to him, I ask, “So tell me why you’re here. You never visit me.”
He sighs and leans back, resting his head on the back of the couch as he closes his eyes. “I called off the engagement.”
“Shut the front door.”
“True story, bro.” He still has his eyes closed.
“Why haven’t I heard about this yet?”
“Well, for starters, you haven’t picked up your phone when I call.” He pops open an eye and glares at me.
“Sorry, I’ve been preoccupied. I haven’t even heard from Kitty yet.” Not that I would want to, she’d blame me for this, no matter Levi’s reasons.
“Neither have I.”
“I’m not saying that I’m happy you did it, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed either. Whatever your reason, I’m proud that you did something.” I pat his arm. We aren’t a very touchy-feely family, so while most sisters would use this moment to hug their big brothers, I settle on an arm pat.
Levi chuckles in return and covers my hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly. “Thanks, Ems.”
“Are you going to tell me why you called things off with Darcy?” I slowly pull my hand away. Twisting toward him, I lift my legging-covered legs onto the couch and tuck them under me.
“The long and short of it was that you were right.”
“Wait,” I interject. “What was that?”
“Har har, you heard me.”
“I may have possibly misheard you. It sounded like you said I was right.” I feign concern.
He smiles and looks at me. “You heard correctly. Anyway, I decided I’d rather be single than marry someone I’m not in love with. Not to mention someone who is an eager fucking beaver, ready to cheat before we even say our vows.”
I give him a wan smile. “You deserve so much more than that, Levi.”
“I know. Thank you for pushing me on it.”
“Anytime, big bro. As your little sister, I take my duty of telling you when you're wrong very seriously. You can always count on me.” I salute him.
He chuckles.
“So, what are the ramifications of this whole thing? Surely Dad isn’t happy. Kitty is probably shitting a brick.” I shake off the visual.
“You’re probably right on both accounts, but I haven’t spoken to either of them yet. I just called things off with Darcy late last night. I took the day off to avoid Dad.”
“You took a day off?” I perk up in my seat, cock an eyebrow, and start looking over him. Checking his face, looking at the clothes he’s wearing. I lean over and look down at his shoes. He scoffs.
“You look like Levi. But the Levi I know doesn’t take time off. Are you sick? Do I need to take you to the doctor?”
He reaches out and covers my face with his hand, pushing me away. He’s always done this to me. So, I do the only thing I’ve ever done back. I lick his palm.
“Ew. You’re gross.” He pulls his hand away and wipes it on his pant leg.
I smirk.
“Ems, you have no room to talk. You’re just as much a workaholic as Dad and me. Where do you think you got it from?” He has a point, but I shrug it off.
“So, what do you think Dad will do?”
Levi sighs heavily. “I don’t know. I doubt he fires me. Worst-case scenario, I lose my trust.”
“What? How? You’re thirty-one. You’ve been drawing on that thing for six years. You can’t just lose it. Can you?”
“Well, since Dad is the trustee on it, he can always change the rules of it. He was very, very adamant about me marrying. When I was unable to find any prospects, he pushed Darcy my way. Well, Kitty did.”
“I think that’s stupid. But I doubt you lose your trust. Maybe you’ll just be the black sheep for a little while.” I smile ruefully. “Maybe taking the heat off me for a bit? Eh?”
“Doubt it. As long as you refuse the family money, you’ll always be the black sheep. But I’ll see what I can do.” He’s always looked out for me.
“Thanks, big brother.”
“So, you want to tell me about that whole mess with Jake?” He’s apparently done talking about his issues.
My turn to sigh, I pull off the Band-Aid. “As you guessed the other night, I hired Jake to be my boyfriend for the duration of the wedding events. The whole mess came about when you spilled the beans about how I had no money.”
“I suspected there was something fishy between the two of you, but never expected you’d hire a boyfriend. Jesus, Emmy.” While he looks confused, he doesn’t look disgusted with me. That’s a plus.
“I know, it’s one of the crazier things I’ve done.”
“Yeah, right up there with walking away from a multimillion-dollar trust fund.” He snorts.
I just nod, defeated.
“So, you hire this guy to be your fake date and tell him you’re going to pay him when you don’t have any money? So, this whole thing is about money?”
“Kinda.”
“Then I say good riddance, if he’s all up in arms about money, he isn’t worth it. Be glad it’s fake.”
My shoulders sag. “I said it was kind of about the money. Mostly, it was because I lied to him about having the money. I let him think I had it all, and he didn’t much like being lied to.”
Levi studies me for a few moments.
I focus on my fingers in my lap, picking at my nails.
“So, this wasn’t fake, was it?” His tone is soft and concerned.
“No, I don’t think so. I think we both started to have feelings for each other. So, the fact that I lied about not being rich made things feel fake again.” My eyes remain focused on my lap.
“Well, does he want you to have money or not have money?” Levi reaches out and grabs my hands, stopping me from ruining my home-done manicure.
I lift my face to him. “I think he feels relieved that I don’t have all that money, but he still doesn’t think we are meant to be, so he’s done.” I don’t tell him that Jake snuck out after sex. That’s just not something you tell your brother. Levi squeezes my hands before letting them go.
“So, I have to ask. How much are you supposed to pay him?”
I mumble the amount, looking back down at my hands.
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to speak up.”
“I said fifteen thousand.”
“What? Are you shitting me right now?” He’s leaning toward me now, wide-eyed with shock.
“No, I’m not. But now that there’s no more wedding, I need to pay up. Unfortunately, I don’t have the money yet. I was due for a bonus next month. Combine that with what I have in savings and I’d have just enough to pay him.”
“Paying him now means you don’t have the money.”
Levi sighs in understanding.
“Bingo.” I offer him a sad smile.
“Shit, little sister. How did you get yourself into this mess? You’re telling me a fake date was worth fifteen grand all for what? A few dates around the family?”
“It was Becca’s idea,” I offer, but it doesn’t matter. I went through with it.
He rolls his eyes as I continue, “I wasn’t going to do it until I started getting calls from Craig about wanting to get back together.”
“What is it that Becca calls him? Cringey Craig? I mean, he’s never been my favorite guy either, but …" He finishes his sentence with a whistle.
After a few beats, he speaks.
“I’m going to give you the money. It’s the least I can do. One, for causing issues between the two of you the other night. Two, I still feel like shit for what I said about you paying him with sex. And three, I called off the wedding, therefore ushering in the need for you to have the money sooner than expected.” He leans over a little and fishes his phone out of his side pocket.
“No way. I’m not going to take money from you. This is my bed, now let me lie in it.” I shake my head furiously.
“Let me loan it to you then. Family interest rate of: pay it back when you can and not in one lump sum.”
“Levi, really, no.” My eyes water because he’s always looked out for me, but he isn’t paying attention as he's doing something on his phone.
“Done, too late. I’ve just transferred the money. You should be good to write him a check tomorrow.”
I fling my arms around him and hug him this time, telling him thank you. He chuckles and hugs me back.
* * *
A couple days later, I have a check in hand, for fifteen grand made out to Jake. I stand in the middle of my apartment staring at the small piece of paper, wondering how to get it to him. I don’t have his address, so I can’t mail it to him. I texted him this morning and surprise, surprise, he never replied. I can’t say that the fact that he is ignoring me is helping my confidence levels. When you sleep with a guy and he goes MIA, it’s hard to feel good about yourself. Not to mention, my heart is just a bit numb. I was falling for Jake. Those feelings, I thought, were mutual.
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