Emma stumbled into her father’s apartment, still confused as to what went wrong with Will. But her confusion only grew when she heard her father call her name from somewhere in the dining room.
She paused, thinking she must truly have lost her mind. Since when did her father wait up for her?
She popped her head in just to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. But there was her father, clutching a glass of scotch with a tired expression etched into the lines of his face. Emma blinked hard. How much eggnog had she drank?
She felt like she was visiting the ghost of Christmas past—where her father still drank scotch and Will was oblivious to Emma’s advances. If her mother came waltzing down the hall next, Emma was going to run screaming from the the house.
“Where have you been, Emma?” her father asked sounding more upset than he had any right to.
“At Will’s,” she said defensively.
“Oh.” He looked as though her answer had taken the fight out of him. “You could at least let us know where you are.”
“Since when do you care?” she spat.
He father stood so abruptly the chair screeched backward and Emma retreated a step. Seeing her do so must’ve dissolved her father’s anger. His face crumbled as he sat back down, taking a long drink from his glass. “I guess I deserve that.”
“I’m sorry, Dad, but you kinda do.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Not really,” she muttered, turning to leave even though her anger was simmering.
“Fine,” he replied shaking his head. “But I’m disappointed in you.”
Emma whirled around. “Me? What about you?” Emma screeched.
She marched back into the dining room and laid into her father, unleashing all her frustrations thanks to the liquid courage provided by the eggnog she’d been knocking back at Will’s.
She’d thought after what Will had told her, she’d go easy on her father, but something had snapped inside her tonight when Will sent her home wanting. Emma was through being denied the things she wanted in life. And she wanted a relationship with her father. She wouldn’t settle for being shoved aside and she was going to make sure he knew that.
When she was done, her chest was heaving and she’d spewed all her injustices. The fact that she didn’t have a bedroom, the way her father had unloaded Tara, Colin, a wedding and a pregnancy on her without any warning, and how he hadn’t made any time for her since she’d come home. But when Emma looked at her father, who’d stayed uncharacteristically quiet through her rant, he was grinning, which only fueled her irritation. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because I’d take you yelling at me any day over ignoring me. If you’re yelling it means you still care. At least it did with your mother. That’s how I knew it was over between us, your mother and me, I mean.”
“Oh,” Emma said sinking down into a chair at the table.
Her father smiled wistfully. “You’re so much like her, ya know?”
Emma nodded. She was the spitting image of her mother, right down to the blonde hair, green eyes, and apparently, fiery temper.
Her father reached across the table and took Emma’s hand. “I want to make sure you understand something, sweetheart. When things fell apart between your mother and I, I wasn’t at my best and I’m sorry for what that did to our relationship. But I want you to know no matter what happens, nothing will ever make you stop being my daughter. I love you so much, Em. You know that, right?”
Emma’s eyes welled as she looked at him. She’d wanted to hear him say that for so long. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed back her tears and nodded. “I know, Dad.”
“And you’re right. I need to do a better job of showing you that. This apartment was only meant to be temporary. It’s part of the reason I didn’t want you to come to the city yet.”
“What do you mean?”
Her father sighed. “I was hoping to keep this for part of your Christmas surprise, but the reason I haven’t been around very much is because I’ve been meeting with a team of builders who are working around the clock to get our new home ready. I was hoping it would be finished by Christmas, but they’re behind schedule. It’ll be New Year’s Eve at best.”
“You’re moving again?”
He nodded. “We all are.”
“Do I have a room there?”
He nodded again, grinning this time. “Would you like to see it?”
“Yes,” Emma said breathlessly as warmth and love bloomed in her chest. He hadn’t forgotten about her after all.
“I can’t wait to show it to you. It’s really something. You have a great big bedroom and attached . . . well, I’ll let that be the surprise. We can go tomorrow morning if you’d like, just me and you.”
“I’d like that, Dad.”
“Good. Just don’t tell Tara and Colin yet. I want it to be a surprise.”
“I won’t.”
Her father stood and walked over to her chair, pulling it out so he could wrap her up in a hug. “Emma, thank you for talking to me. I love you, sweetheart.”
“I love you too, Daddy.”
34
Will
The next morning Will stumbled out of bed. It was Christmas Eve and his level of regret had reached an all time high. What the hell had he been thinking last night? He still couldn’t quite believe he’d sent Emma home without kissing her. He knew it was the right thing to do, but sometimes he really wished he wasn’t the guy who always did the right thing. Where had it gotten him?
Alone on Christmas, that’s where. Well maybe not totally alone. Emma had invited him to spend Christmas with her family last night. But then again, that was before Will stupidly shut her down and sent her home when she was finally looking at him the way he’d always wished she would.
After a quick breakfast, Will dressed and decided to go knock on Emma’s door. It was the only way he’d get rid of the nagging feeling in his gut that he’d royally screwed up. Plus, he didn’t much feel like spending another minute alone in his apartment. It felt emptier than usual since he’d already sent the entire staff home to enjoy the holiday with their families. They at least deserved to be with family and loved ones even if Will couldn’t.
Sharon had been the hardest to convince, but he persuaded her after saying he’d be spending Christmas with Emma. Sharon was practically gushing as she served him breakfast and showed him where all the meals she’d prepared were. After a few more minutes of motherly fussing, she seemed satisfied that he would manage without her for a few days and headed out the door wishing him luck.
Will checked his reflection in the foyer mirror before stepping out into the hall. Was it ridiculous that he was this nervous to knock on Emma’s door? He suddenly wished he had one of her silly Tic Tacs. Get a grip, Will. She’s not gonna open the door and kiss you.
Will shook his head at himself. He seriously had to stop watching so many girly movies with Sharon. He mustered his courage and marched down the hall, knocking loudly on the door before he lost his nerve. It opened a moment later and Will was met with Colin’s glowing smile. “Hi, Will!”
“Hey, Colin. Is Emma here?”
He shook his little head and pouted. “She’s gone.”
Will’s stomach dropped twenty stories to the lobby. “Gone? Where did she go?”
Colin’s pout deepened. “She wouldn’t say.”
Shit! Why the hell didn’t he just kiss her last night? What if shutting her down had sent her running again? Christ! It was last year’s winter formal all over again.
“Colin,” a cheerful voice called from inside the apartment. “What did I say about answering the door for strangers?”
“It’s not a stranger, Mom. It’s just Will.”
Tara appeared behind Colin. She was a sight in a red dress with a plunging neckline. “Will, honey, how are you?”
“Hi, Miss Emerson. I’m well. And you?”
“Please call me Tara, honey. And we’re fabulous,” she said patting her
baby bump. “How can I help you?”
“Oh, I was just stopping by to speak to Emma but it appears I missed her.”
Tara grinned. “Oh yes, she and Teddy left early this morning. Something about a Christmas surprise? They were both being quite mysterious. It was adorable.”
Will’s heart leapt. “So she’s not gone?”
“I should hope not. She told me she’d watch Colin while Teddy and I attend the Christmas Eve garden party tonight.”
“Oh, that’s great. Thank you, Miss Emerson, I mean, Tara.”
Will was already hurrying down the hall when Tara called after him. “I’ll tell her you stopped by.”
“Thank you!” Will jogged down the hall, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. It wasn’t over yet. He still had a chance. And he might even have a plan.
Emma
“Dad!” Emma gasped when they walked into the new penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. “It’s phenomenal.”
The place was massive and nearly finished. It seemed the kitchen was the last piece of the puzzle. The dazzling marble counter tops and rich cabinets were installed, but there were wires and pipes sticking out where the appliances and sinks should be. As they walked further into the massive luxury suite, Emma noticed things were further along. She recognized pieces of furniture and art under layers of clear plastic and her heart leapt. They were from her old home. Her father hadn’t gotten rid of them after all.
Emma turned and threw her arms around his neck.
Her father’s stern face creased with a rare smile. “I take it you approve?”
“It reminds me of home,” she said beaming at him.
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say. Come on, I can’t wait till you see your room,” he said leading the way.
Emma followed her father into a massive bedroom with an en suite bathroom and walk-in closet the size of her whole bedroom in Boston. Her old canopy bed and dresser were already set up inside. “This is for me?” she asked in awe.
“Yep. It’s all yours,” her father answered. “And this,” he said opening a door to an adjoining room, “is your studio.”
Emma’s mouth fell open as she stared into the room. She felt like she was staring into a dream. There were mannequin forms, sewing machines, bolts of muslin and fabric, and an entire glittering wall of accessories. And on a drawing table in the corner, was a brand new MacBook Pro adorned with a red bow.
Emma couldn’t hold her tears back. Her trembling hand flew to her heart as she took in the designer’s paradise. “Dad . . . how did you know?”
“You’re my daughter, Emma. How could I not know?”
Emma ran into her father’s arms and sobbed into his chest. She let him stroke her hair until she could compose herself. When she stopped shaking, her father put his steady hands firmly on her shoulders.
“Emma, ever since we bought you your first sewing machine, you wanted to be a designer. I know a lot has changed since then, but not everything. I still know my daughter.”
She nodded bleary-eyed.
“I also know you have some big decisions regarding college next fall. And I’m not going to try to influence that decision. But if you want to choose a school in New York I want you to know we’d be thrilled to have you.”
Emma grinned through a hiccup. “And this isn’t supposed to influence my decision?” she asked sarcastically as she gazed at the design studio.
Her father chuckled. “You can’t blame a father for wanting to give his daughter the best, can you?”
Emma laughed. “I guess not.”
“I love you, Emma. And whether you choose a school here or half way around the world, that’s not going to change, okay?”
“Thanks, Dad. I love you too. And this means so much to me.”
Her father frowned. “Why do I sense a but coming?”
“It’s just, I don’t need all of this.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?”
Emma stared into her father’s warm blue eyes. They reminded her of Will’s and she felt a knife twist in her heart. She threw her arms around her father again to stave off the pain. “I just need you, Dad.”
“Oh sweetie, you have no idea how good it is to hear you say that.”
Emma pulled back. “Dad, I need to tell you something?”
“Anything, sweetheart.”
“It’s sort of a long story. Maybe I can tell you over breakfast?”
“How does Jean-Georges sound?”
Emma grinned. “Perfect.”
35
Emma
After a spectacular brunch at Jean-Georges, Emma couldn’t put off her conversation with her father any longer. The problem was, she didn’t know how to start. How could she tell her father the real reason she left was because a boy broke her heart? Especially if she didn’t want him to kill said boy.
“So any chance you’d like to start this long story of yours?” her father asked glancing at his watch.
“Is there somewhere you have to be?” she asked. “I don’t want to hold you up. We can talk later.”
“Oh no you don’t. I have all the time in the world for you.”
Emma sighed. “Okay, but can you promise me you’ll remain impartial about some of the characters in this story?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I can promise you I’ll try.”
“So last year, when I left New York with Mom, it wasn’t because I was choosing her over you.”
“It wasn’t?”
Emma shook her head. “It was because of a boy.”
“A boy?”
Emma could already see her father’s stern features hardening. “Dad, I can’t tell you this if you’re going to get all Tony Soprano on me.”
That made him chuckle. “I’ll do my best.”
“Okay, so this boy, who will remain nameless for now, I’d kind of had a crush on him forever, but I didn’t think he ever really thought of me that way, until last year when he finally asked me out. I was so excited.” Emma felt her heart squeeze at the memory. “But before we could go out I found out he hooked up with another girl at a party.”
“How did you find out?”
“Some friends sent me pictures of it. And at first I didn’t want to believe it. But the next day I saw them together at school and I just knew it was true. I was so embarrassed and heartbroken. I didn’t know what to do. And then Mom asked me one more time if I wanted to come to Boston and suddenly it seemed like the only way out. So I took it.”
“And what about now?” her father asked.
“What do you mean?”
“I assume you’re telling me this because something has changed?”
Emma shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean in some ways nothing has changed. I’ve always loved the city. And being back here reminds me how much I miss it. And how much I miss you.”
“And what about this boy?”
“I still love him, Dad. But I don’t know if I can trust him. But the thought of not at least trying to make it work . . .” Emma’s face folded in despair.
Her father took her hand. “Sweetheart, I’m going to try to give you advice as someone who’s had their fair share of tumultuous relationships. Love isn’t easy. But it’s always worth it.”
“But how do I know it’ll work out?”
“You don’t. But that’s just the chance you have to take. If your heart is showing you a path toward love, you owe it to yourself to follow it through.”
Emma bit her lip and looked at him.
“Emma, there’s not much certain in life. But love, no matter how long or fleeting, is always worth it.”
“How do you know when it’s real?”
He thought for a moment. “I suppose you don’t, because you never truly know how someone else feels. But you have to be able to trust yourself and your heart.”
“Is that what happened with you and Mom?”
Her father looked sad for a moment before answering. “Your mother and I hadn’t loved each other for
a long time. And when I met Tara, it reminded me of that.” He sighed. “I know I didn’t set a good example for you with the way things happened between your mother and I. But don’t let our mistakes scare you away from making your own.”
“But I don’t want to make mistakes, Dad.”
He smiled. “Sweetheart, we all make mistakes. Sometimes it’s the only way we learn what we want out of life.”
Emma thought about that for a long moment. Had Liz been Will’s mistake? Could Emma forgive him for it? Or would trusting him be her big mistake?
“Em, I’ve made my fair share of mistakes when it comes to relationships, but I wouldn’t change anything about my life. Your mother and I did love each other for a while. And when it fell apart, it was one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through. But I survived. And I’d go through it all over again if I had to, because without it I wouldn’t have you in my life.” He smiled warmly at Emma. “And now I’ve found love again.”
“With Tara?”
He nodded. “I know others judge the way Tara and I got together, but I wouldn’t change that either. If we waited for the timing to be right maybe it never would have happened and that would be a shame, because that woman is a blessing in my life. She makes me happy and she’s brought Colin and soon, a new baby into our lives. I really want you to get to know her, Em. She has a good heart.”
“I think I’d like that, Dad. I’m sorry I didn’t give her a chance before. I just felt like you were choosing her over me.”
“It’s not a competition, sweetheart.”
“I know that now. But Dad . . .” Emma chose her words carefully. “What about Mom?”
“What about her?”
“I don’t want to be the one to tell her you’re getting married to Tara and having another baby.”
Her father smiled, shaking his head. “Your mother already knows everything, Emma. I asked her to give me time to tell you.”
“You did?”
“Yes. You were the one I was worried about telling. And I realize I didn’t do you any favors by keeping it from you. I’m not perfect, sweetie. Can you forgive me for screwing up?”
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