Impatiently Patient

by Amelia Shea

“Oh, my bad. I thought you came here to remind me that you can have me if you want me. Then throw me out when you’re done.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, isn’t it obvious? You thought you’d come here, maybe apologize again, work your charm on me. Get me to stay?” Her brows raised in question while her tone was eerily calm. “Then what, get me in bed, fuck me, and all would be good? Does that sound about right?”

  Ethan glared at her cold demeanor. His rage was so strong it was threatening to unleash on her. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself. He was a master at calm with everyone except Emory.

  “Thought you’d come here and make it right. Say the things I spent years wanting to hear and I’d just fall at your feet?” Her eyes welled up but she didn’t back down. “’Cause that’s how it works for you, right, E?” She stood in front of him, shaking in anger. Her body was so tense she started to tremble. “Do you care about me?”

  He flinched at her question, drawing his eyebrows together.

  “Of course I care about you,” he answered, his anger increasing from the question. How could she even doubt that he did?

  “No, I mean, really care about me.”

  “You know I do,” he snapped back at her, angry that she was even doubting it.

  Her tears finally fell when she shouted, “Then stop hurting me!”

  Ethan recoiled. There was so much pain in her voice he could feel it. It was as though she was transferring it to him, giving all that she felt over the last year and a half and making him feel it.

  For a man who had always had the words, could talk his way out of anything, make anyone do what he wanted, he was speechless. He watched her back up to her suitcase, throw on her sweatshirt, and grab the handle. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, sniffling. Walking past him she stopped, giving him her profile, staring straight ahead and not making eye contact.

  She inhaled a breath, releasing it calmly. “I deserve more than you have to give me.”

  She never looked up at him. Even when she walked out the door, she never looked back. He should have chased after her, made her listen. Instead, he watched her leave.

  He stared at the empty doorway, struggling with everything she laid out for him. She had no idea what he wanted to give her, she hadn’t given him the chance. Realizing that he didn’t deserve that chance. He’d hurt her then and he was doing it now.

  Ethan stepped over to the bed and sat down. Resting his elbows on his legs, he stared down at the floor. He’d made so many mistakes with Emory, continuously hurt her, not even realizing he was doing it. Realizing, too late, an apology and seduction wasn’t going to get him his girl. If he wanted Emory, and he did, he’d have to start at the beginning.

  Chapter 7

  EMORY sat on the front porch of her house, which most recently doubled as her office. She had been kicked out of the main office to make room for a new agent. An agent with higher sales. It was a humbling experience.

  There was a bright side to working from her house and she was enjoying it now. Her view from her front porch was a scene out of an old time magazine. The warm breeze comforted her as she rocked in her chair. She loved it here; the quiet of her road with only a few locals, mostly neighbors walking their dogs. Everyone waved. That was the beauty of the south. The people.

  Her rental, paid for by the agency, was small. A two-bedroom bungalow set in the heart of downtown Beaufort. It was old, the floors creaked when she walked on them, and it took a while for the hot water to come up through the old pipes, but it had its charm.

  She waved to her neighbors, Marie and Gil. They had welcomed her on her first night with a bag of okra from their garden. Uncooked, which meant it had lasted about a month before she shoved it in the trash. It was the thought that counted. They’d also been the ones who introduced her to sweet tea. Her teeth ached at the mere thought of it, but damn, it was good.

  She took a sip of coffee and rested her head back. It had been six days since she’d fled from Texas. Yeah, she was a big girl, she could own it—she fled. The flight home had been horrible, she was an absolute mess. She constantly second guessed everything she said to Ethan. In her heart, she knew it’s what had to be done.

  Part of her regretted not letting him talk. But what could he have said? He didn’t love her, he didn’t really want to be with her. At least not the way she wanted or needed. It didn’t stop her from replaying every kiss and the memory of the supply closet when she was alone in bed.

  It was better this way. She had closure now and she felt confident that after some time, she could finally move on. Leave Ethan in the past. She wouldn’t completely write him off, she couldn’t. If she wanted to keep Roxanne in her life, then Ethan came with her. And ridding her life of Roxanne was not ever possible.

  She knew, without a doubt, Ethan hadn’t told Roxanne that she had stayed in town. She texted with Roxanne every day and she never mentioned it but if she had known, there’s no way she wouldn’t have said anything. Thinking of Roxanne, she still harbored the guilt of lying to her. Roxanne had bitched the entire time they were at Peachtree’s on Saturday afternoon.

  “God, Em, you just got here. A day and you’re gone, again? God knows when you’ll come back.” Emory was well aware Roxanne wasn’t fully buying her story of having to leave early for a work emergency. Who could blame her, it was a lame ass excuse. Roxanne pouted like she used to do when they were kids. Emory did what she always did and rolled her eyes.

  “Drama much?” She sipped her drink in hopes that Roxanne would do the same and stop talking about her leaving.

  “You hate it there, Em. Just come home. There’s plenty of real estate work here. I just don’t get it,” Roxanne blurted.

  “Uh, excuse me, I never said I hated Beaufort. In fact, I think I told you, I love it.”

  “Yeah, the town, but the job sucks, your coworkers are douches and you hate your boss. Come home.”

  Emory sighed in frustration. “I’m not doing this with you again.”

  “Speaking of coworkers, how’s Bunny?” Her tone dripped with sarcasm.

  Emory glared at Roxanne wishing she hadn’t mentioned her coworker to her best friend.

  Bunny was a coworker that Emory had hated on sight. Due to Emory’s uncanny ability to spot a bitch from miles away, she knew from the moment she met her, she’d hate her. And she did. Aside from Bunny’s client stealing, trash talking real estate ways, she was also the one to recruit Jim, her newest coworker, from another agency. Jim, who moved into Emory’s desk and sent her to work from home, was an old friend of Bunny’s.

  Emory took another sip of her drink, trying to control her anger. They stared at one another. They had done the back and forth many times, although, Rox was playing dirty bringing Bunny’s name into it. Finally, Roxanne looked away with a huff.

  “Fine, I’ll stop,” she muttered under her breath. “For now.”

  A voice broke her out of her memory. Her eyes shifted to the walkway and she smiled.

  “Good morning, boss.” Calvin, her assistant, sauntered up the steps in his purple converse, gray skinny jeans and v neck sweater. Only he could pull off this look.

  She watched him make his way up her long staircase. All the agents were given assistants, although she was surprised she was allowed to keep him when she was transitioned out of the office. Thankfully, his paycheck didn’t depend on her sales. Lucky for him, otherwise, he would be long gone.

  Emory giggled at his boss reference. “What’s up?”

  “You, thank the Lord. Busy, busy day we have today.”

  Emory snorted. “Since when does one appointment constitute a busy day?”

  “When that one appointment is the only appointment you’ve had all week? I think that means a busy day. Now, go get ready.” His eyes scanned her body, lifting his eyebrows, “Love the jammies, girl, but the client may not appreciate your sense of fashion as much as I do.”

&
nbsp; Emory snickered, sticking her tongue out at him and headed into the house. She poured out her coffee and started up the stairs.

  Calvin shouted from the office in the den, “You got thirty minutes.”

  Emory dredged up the rest of the stairs into her tiny room and quickly got in the shower and got ready. She was just buttoning up her blouse when she heard the bell. The house was old, part of its charm being slightly over the top. The bell reflected that charm with the minute-long chime. Well, it felt like a solid minute.

  “Shit!”

  Emory rushed around her room, grabbing her pumps and taking one last glance at her reflection. Her hair looked great, which would only last for so long. Damn the humidity of the south. It was a curly-haired girl’s worst enemy. Her relaxing treatment, worth more than one paycheck, had been worth it. Quirking her head to the side, she stared at her hair, running her hand through her straight locks. A small part of her missed her curls.

  Rushing out her bedroom doorway, she made her way down the stairs.

  Calvin was waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase beaming up at her. His face was flushed and wearing a shit eating grin. Emory stopped on the last stair and gave him a questioning look.

  “What?”

  He mouthed, “Oh my Lord!” He fanned himself with his hand.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  “Because God has answered my prayers for you and inside that office,” he pointed to her door ten feet away, “is the man that will make your dreams come true and probably kill you with multiple orgasms. I think I just had one myself!” His hands covered his mouth as he bounced on his toes. Born and raised in the south, Calvin had a thick accent to begin with but got even thicker when he was excited.

  Emory’s mouth twisted. “Um…ew. Wait, let me get this straight, no pun intended.” She winked at him. “You prayed that I’d get laid?”

  Calvin waved his hands in dismissal and rolled his eyes. “Well, not in those crude words but…yes! Girl, you need all the help you can get, and no one is above the Lord or his help.”

  Emory giggled. “Well, thank you. Not sure that anyone has ever prayed on behalf of my vagina but we’re flattered that you, a gay man, has taken such an interest in us.”

  “Stop talking gibberish and get in there. Unbutton the shirt.”

  “What?” Emory exclaimed.

  “Just one. Trust me, if you don’t, you’ll wish you had when you see him.”

  Emory’s interest piqued. “Really? That hot?”

  “Oh no, hot doesn’t even begin to describe the man sitting in your office.”

  Interesting. Maybe the man behind the door was the answer to her sales problems and her cure for forgetting Ethan. Emory smiled, walking across the living room. She took a deep breath and opened the door to her office. The man was not sitting, he was standing by the window. She got a quick glance at the tall figure before he turned to face her. Emory immediately lost her smile. What the fuck?

  Ethan stood by the window with a small smile tugging at his lips.

  “I thought I’d surprise you this time.”

  Emory was rendered speechless.

  *

  Ethan tried to sustain his laughter. Emory stood in the doorway, frozen, giving her best impersonation of a deer caught in headlights. He placed his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight to one leg. He watched her flush and wondered if she too was thinking of their last encounter. That memory had consumed his mind for the past week.

  Her lips tightened and mashed together. She looked behind her and then back to him, glaring in his direction. He was prepared for the wrath. That was Emory when she got mad. He was smart enough to know that his little flame-haired girl was fuming.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Ethan?” Her hip cocked to the side and she grasped her hands on her hips.

  “My Lord, Emory, what’s gotten into to you?” The young man who had introduced himself as Calvin, Emory’s assistant, squeezed past her to enter the office.

  His awkward smile set on Ethan. “Mr. Barrett, would you like some coffee or tea? Sweet tea, perhaps?”

  “No!” Emory shouted.

  Ethan spoke the same time as Calvin. “No?”

  Flustered, Emory twitched; she seemed to be shaking a thought from her head.

  “I mean, Mr. Barrett is leaving soon, so there’s no time for drinks. Um, Calvin, can you give us a minute here?” Trying to compose herself, she gestured to Ethan.

  “Of course.” Calvin smiled tensely before walking out the door whispering something to Emory that Ethan couldn’t quite make out.

  She frowned at Calvin’s back when he retreated out the door. Her glare came back to Ethan, forming a scowl. She closed the door behind her and walked to her desk, sitting in her chair. She looked gorgeous in her pencil skirt and light green blouse. Her eyes were throwing daggers at him but he was still entranced in her pale blue stare.

  “So? What the hell are you doing here?”

  “Is this how you treat all your clients? Because I have to say, Emory, you really should work on your people skills.”

  “My people skills are just fine and you’re not a client, Ethan. Now, answer me, why the fuck are you here?”

  He could feel her rage in every word. He slowly walked to the chair and seated himself across from her. Resting his elbows on the chair, he leaned back, keeping his composure intact.

  “Language, Emory,” he warned.

  Her mouth twisted into a nasty smile. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Ethan sighed, grinning at her immaturity. “I’d like to take you to breakfast.”

  “You flew all the way here to take me out to breakfast?” Her tone was sarcastic.

  He smiled. “For starters.”

  She stared at him, shaking her head. “No.”

  “No?”

  “Yeah, no, Ethan,” she snapped. “You came all the way here for nothing.”

  “I disagree.”

  “Look here.” She leaned over her desk, pointing at him. “This is my job, you can’t just walk in here, take my time and think you’ll…well, that you can…I don’t even know why the hell you’re here. Why are you here?”

  Ethan stared at her long enough for her to grow impatient and widen her eyes in question rather aggravated. He stood up from his chair, straightening his pants.

  “You’re right. This is your place of employment, and I had no right to barge in here. I just wanted to take you to breakfast, spend some time with you. But, this is not the time and I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize your job. I’m sorry.”

  He turned around and walked out the door, closing it behind him. Taking a few steps through the living room, he saw Calvin standing near a small old desk. By the look on his face, he had heard the whole conversation.

  He smiled at Calvin asking, “I was wondering if I could make an appointment.”

  Calvin’s smile grew to a grin and covered his mouth while he giggled and peered over at Emory’s door. He reached down to her appointment book. A glance down showed Ethan she had a clear schedule and not just for today.

  “When would you like to schedule it for?”

  Ethan looked over at the door then back at Calvin. “How about in fifteen minutes? Give her some time to cool off.” He smirked when Calvin bounced on his feet, clapping his hands quietly.

  Chapter 8

  EMORY stayed seated at her desk after Ethan left.

  He was here. He was here. He was here. Why the hell was he here? Who does that? It was over with them. Even before anything ever really started, she thought. She had said everything she needed to say. Leaving him that night at the hotel was her clean break. Closure. How was she supposed to get over him if he wouldn’t go away?

  The phone buzzed and Emory stared at it confused. Calvin never used the phone, he usually just barged in her office. She clicked the button. “Why are you buzzing me?”

  Calvin cleared his voice, “Your
next appointment is here.”

  “I don’t have another appointment.” She tilted her head at the phone.

  “Yes, you do. A walk-in client.”

  She never got walk-in clients. There was a small sign on her lawn, indicating the agency name but that served mostly as a landmark for those who already had appointments to find her office.

  “Are you ready?” Calvin asked excitedly.

  She eyed the phone suspiciously. “Yes.”

  Emory made no move to get up from her desk and waited. The door slowly opened and Calvin walked in smiling at her. He was up to something. He stepped aside and she could feel the blood rush to her face when Ethan walked through the door.

  “I’m generating a list of houses for you to show Mr. Barrett. It should only take me a few minutes,” Calvin said.

  Emory kept her eyes on Ethan, glaring at him. He seemed unaffected as he stood two feet away from her desk.

  “Okay, so, I’ll buzz you when I’m done.”

  Emory slowly cocked her head to Calvin throwing him a look that promised she would kick his ass later. He obviously understood it but didn’t care, he was thoroughly amused by what was happening. He winked at her before leaving the office, shutting the door behind him.

  Ethan moved forward, taking a seat in the chair across from her. His face was relaxed and calm. Typical Ethan. Meanwhile, she was imagining his death, slow and painful.

  *

  “I’ve made an appointment to look at some vacation homes. Roxanne raved about how nice Beaufort was, I figured since I’m here, I might as well check it out.”

  “Bullshit. The last place you’d ever ‘vacation’ is Beaufort, South Carolina. Does Rox know you’re here?”

  “No, I don’t deem it necessary to check in with my little sister.” He watched her chest rise and fall at a rapid speed. She was furious, and from her pinched lips, he knew she was about to lose it. She took a breath and shook her head.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “Yeah, no. You have to leave.”

  “Are you doing so well that you can turn down potential clients? Well, congratulations, Emory, that’s wonderful.” He was fully aware that Emory was struggling with her sales. The look on her face confirmed it.