Emerson cradled her own head in her hands. It was all so much. Too much.
“Hi, there.”
The man’s voice startled Emerson enough to make her jump. Then she pressed a hand to her chest and laughed.
“Sorry about that,” the man said with a gentle chuckle. “Didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to check out.”
Mary took over as Emerson watched each computer keystroke she made, followed each step, but she got lost partway through, and pressed her fingertips into her eyelids instead.
I have to get back.
The thought had crossed her mind more than once over the past couple of days as new information was piled on top of old, things that needed to be tended to here in Lake Henry adding to the list of things in L.A. she needed to deal with. She’d already made her flight reservation for the next day, but if she could wave a magic wand, she’d go right now. She wasn’t unhappy with the decisions she’d made, but she was rapidly becoming overwhelmed by the scope of everything there was to deal with, and part of her wanted to go back to LA, crawl into her bed, pull the covers up over her head, and forget all of it.
“Here are the applications for housekeeping.” Mary’s voice snapped her out of her reverie, and she was surprised to see the man was gone. She took the stack of papers Mary handed her.
“This many?” She had to be holding twenty-five applications.
“Not a lot of jobs come available in a town this small.” Mary shrugged.
“Terrific.”
Mary patted her on the shoulder. “Ain’t easy being the boss lady, is it?” With a squeeze, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Emerson dropped her head into her hands.
***
The airport was surprisingly busy for a Wednesday morning, and Cassie wasn’t sure if she should be happy or disappointed. She had insisted on parking and walking Emerson into the building, wanting to milk every last second with her that she could, and she felt like a lovesick teenager. It was a little embarrassing.
They’d talked about stupid, mundane things during the three-hour car ride, mostly because Cassie was afraid to ask Emerson the one question that was really on her mind.
Are you coming back?
The past few days had been a whirlwind of activity for Emerson as she tried to meet with everybody necessary to settle her mother’s estate, and also learn about the new responsibilities she now had. The inn. The rental property. Emerson was now a business owner, and Cassie wasn’t terribly clear on how Emerson felt about that.
They’d had little time together after their night of bliss. It had actually been a morning of bliss as well, as they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other, and Cassie had stumbled down to work bleary-eyed and with sore thighs. Her mother had taken one look at her and had known exactly what she’d been up to; thankfully, she’d chosen not to discuss it. But since then, Emerson’s time had been filled with people, advice, direction, numbers, paperwork, and suggestions, and by the time each day had ended, she’d fallen into bed nearly comatose. Cassie suspected Emerson was actually looking forward to going back to L.A.
That’s what worried her.
Despite her breakdown, her pleas to not let Cassie become a regret, Cassie wasn’t completely convinced that Emerson wasn’t about to run again. When she put herself in Emerson’s place, it was painfully obvious how much easier it would be to simply stay in California and run things by phone and computer. Emerson would never have to return to Lake Henry again. She could do that. She had done it in the past. Hell, in her shoes, Cassie couldn’t say for certain that she wouldn’t do the exact same thing.
Emerson finished checking in at the airline counter. Returning to Cassie, she hefted her computer bag onto her shoulder, and they walked to the security line, which was shorter than expected (and shorter than Cassie had hoped) and seemed to be moving along quickly.
“Okay,” Emerson said, turning to her. “This is where I get off.” She gave a lopsided grin at her attempt at humor.
Cassie’s eyes welled up, much to her horror. She cleared her throat. “Okay. Travel safely. Text me when you land.” She looked off to her left, her own voice in her head shouting please come back, please come back, please come back.
“I will.” Emerson reached for her then and wrapped her in a hug.
Cassie held on as tightly as she could for as long as she dared, three more words banging around in her head, trying to find a way out, but Cassie kept them locked in tight.
They parted, neither able to look the other in the eye. Emerson shifted her bag onto her other shoulder. Cassie saw her throat move as she swallowed. “Bye,” Emerson said hoarsely.
Cassie lifted a hand, moved her fingers, watched as Emerson entered the line and moved along quickly. She stood in the same spot as Emerson pulled her laptop from her bag, kicked off her shoes, and sent everything through the scanner. On the other side of the metal detector, she gathered her things, looked back one more time, waved to Cassie, and was gone.
Cassie stood still for long moments after that, aware that hot tears were coursing down her cheeks and not caring.
“Please come back,” she whispered desperately. “Please come back.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
December had not arrived quietly. Not this year. It had ripped into Lake Henry like an angry banshee, all howling winds and blustering snow. Vanessa stomped her boots on the floor to knock off any slush, then held onto Brian as she unzipped them and left them in the foyer of Jonathan and Patrick’s gorgeous home.
“Oh, my god, look at you two!” Jonathan had his arms out and stood still, taking in the sight before him. He wore black dress pants, a very tight red sweater that made it clear how often he worked out, and a Santa hat. “You look fantastic. That dress looks like it was made for you.” He kissed Vanessa on the cheek and gave Brian’s hand a hearty shake. “Come in, come in. Merry Christmas. Drinks are over there. Hors d’oevres are everywhere. Make yourselves comfortable and be merry!”
Vanessa looked up at her husband, who grinned, then shrugged. “Shall we find a drink?” he asked her.
“Absolutely.”
He held out his hand and she clasped it, using him for balance as she put on her shoes. His skin was smooth, his hand warm and strong.
Jonathan and Patrick had one of the most gorgeous homes Vanessa had ever seen. It was large and elegant without being ostentatious. In fact, it was inviting…something she found lacking in many large, expensive homes. The walls in the two-story entryway were cream, and the curving railing and bannister were a tasteful pairing of cream risers and railings with dark wood steps and spindles. A stunning crystal chandelier hung suspended from the high ceilings, and strings of lights, garland, and red velvet decorations gave the entire place the look of a Christmas movie set, twinkling and festive.
The crowd was already large, as Brian had a Friday afternoon meeting that had run late. Vanessa did not mind waiting for him, and that surprised her.
A lot of things surprised her lately.
Who knew that finding a therapist she could talk to openly would change her life? Who knew that talking to her husband with honesty and sincerity would change her life even more?
It hadn’t been easy. She’d held out hope that she and Cassie would maybe resume what they’d had. She’d held onto that for what felt like ages, but in reality had only amounted to a few weeks. Because when she really thought about it, what was it that she and Cassie had? An affair. Plain and simple. Cassie wanted a commitment from Vanessa, and Vanessa knew she couldn’t do that for reasons that confused her at the time. Still, she’d thought maybe someday…
Then Emerson Rosberg had entered the picture, and Vanessa watched her someday slowly evaporate before her eyes, like the lake mist on a summer morning. Anybody watching Emerson with Cassie knew there was something there, even if the two of them hadn’t realized it.
Vanessa thought she would go mad from the giant mix of emotions that had her screaming at
her kids for no reason and shutting her husband out completely. She had to do something before she imploded.
After spending a night online while Brian was away on business, she finally took the advice Cassie had given her more than once over the past year or two. She went online and got a real, educated handle on the fact that she was bisexual, that it was a real thing, not a cop-out, that she wasn’t a person who couldn’t make up her mind. The liberation was palpable, and she’d actually sat at the computer and cried. Big, wracking sobs of relief. After she pulled herself together, she read until her eyes felt like they were about to melt into her head. She did a little more research, found a reputable therapist two towns over, and booked herself an appointment immediately. She attended three sessions before she knew she needed to talk with Brian. She sat him down and told him everything, including about her affair with Cassie. Needless to say, he wasn’t happy about what he’d learned, and his first question was, “Are you leaving me?” The beauty of therapy was that it had helped Vanessa understand two truly important factors: she loved her husband, and she wanted to make her marriage work.
It had been tenuous at first, and some days, it still was. He’d tiptoed around her like she might shatter into pieces, uncertain what to say or how to act, hesitant to touch her in any way, see-sawing between being concerned and being angry. They were still working on things, but after three weeks, they were doing better. Now he held her or touched her nearly all the time. A hand on the small of her back. A finger toying with a lock of her hair. It was nice. And it was sweet. And she loved him more now than when they’d first fallen for each other.
They moved through the crowd of people slowly, sharing greetings and Christmas wishes. Brian laughed with a golf buddy as he handed a flute of champagne to Vanessa. She sipped and scanned the guests.
Anybody who was anybody came to Jonathan’s and Patrick’s Christmas party, and some people who were just people. It was the most talked-about event in Lake Henry, both before and after. Vanessa noted several skiers, the hockey coach, the mayor, three attorneys, a judge, and several business owners, plus many friends she knew from PTA meetings and Jeremy’s hockey games. Barry Manilow and K.T. Oslin were singing Baby, It’s Cold Outside on the stereo, and a warm fire crackled in the fireplace across the room. Vanessa sipped her champagne and smiled, her heart filling with contentment. Love for her town, love for her family and friends, love for the holiday.
The opening and closing of the door was near constant as guests continued to arrive, icy blasts of air pushing through the room, only to be disseminated by the warmth of the fire. Brian had tugged Vanessa closer to the fireplace and was deep in conversation with a guy who coached hockey when Vanessa looked toward the door and saw Cassie walk in.
Jonathan mock-squealed and threw his arms around her, shouting, “I thought you’d never get here!” Behind Cassie, Frannie from the store came in, said hello to Jonathan, then waved across the room to somebody and was gone. Cassie stayed in the entryway, laughing with Jonathan, and unbuttoned her long wool coat to reveal a stunning black dress that hugged her body like a lover. She, too, had worn boots like Vanessa, but shucked them in favor of a pair of low red pumps she pulled from a tote bag. They matched the red Bolero jacket and red Christmas earrings she wore. Cassie did not dress up often. She didn’t enjoy the fuss it took, and she disliked wearing anything on her feet but sport shoes, but on those rare occasions when she made that effort, she looked gorgeous. Jonathan grabbed her hand and was tugging her toward the kitchen when Cassie met Vanessa’s eyes. Cassie gave her a quick smile and a little wave, and then was out of sight.
Vanessa felt Brian stiffen next to her. She ignored the flip-flop her stomach did at seeing Cassie and instead, squeezed his hand and turned to meet his worried eyes. With a smile, she mouthed, “It’s okay.” It took a beat, but he smiled back, and bent forward to brush her lips with his. She sipped her champagne.
***
“What the hell took you so long?” Jonathan asked as he pulled Cassie along, stopping every foot or two to buss somebody’s cheek or answer a question about food/drink/decorations.
“I had to get some paperwork done, and I wanted to get a couple orders placed before the holidays,” Cassie explained. She wasn’t really in the mood for a party, but after missing Jonathan’s Halloween party, he was not about to allow her to miss this one. Honestly, she was tired and a little sad at the prospect of facing the impending holidays alone. She’d hoped to get a phone call from Emerson tonight, but no luck, and she was unhappy about that. She’d almost bailed, but Jonathan was important to her…and spending some time at a Christmas party was probably better for her head than being cooped up in her apartment alone, staring at her cell phone, willing it to ring. She went on with her explanation. “A lot of businesses shut down early, and I didn’t want to take any chances. I told you all this. And I’m not that late.”
“Late is late, Cassandra. There are no varying degrees. You are late or you are not late. You, my dear, are late.” He stuck his nose up, doing his best impression of somebody haughtily irritated, and Cassie couldn’t help but laugh. “Besides, I didn’t want your present to spoil.”
Cassie stopped walking, which pulled Jonathan to an abrupt halt. “We decided not to do presents this year.”
“We did?” He feigned shock, pressing a hand to his chest.
“You promised.” Cassie narrowed her eyes at him.
“Well, first of all, my dear, you look fabulous. I don’t think I told you, but that dress? Ridiculously hot. Second, I will always do presents for my besties, even when I say I’m not going to. Don’t you know me at all? Third, you can thank me later.” He pulled her around the corner and into the open-concept kitchen/great room combination and held out an arm as if presenting an award. “Ta-da!”
Cassie followed the direction his arm pointed and her eyes fell on Emerson, standing at the counter dressed in a long-sleeved glittering dress of emerald green. She had a wine glass in one hand and was gesturing at Chris with the other, the two of them deep in conversation. Cassie’s breath held in her lungs, and she simply drank in the beautiful sight before her, standing quietly, an enormous grin spreading across her face.
Chris caught her eye then and smiled, touched Emerson’s arm, and gestured with her chin in the direction of her sister. Emerson turned and their eyes locked. For a long moment, everybody in the room disappeared and it was just Cassie and Emerson. As if tugged by a rope, Emerson set her glass down, came around the counter, and wrapped her arms around Cassie.
“My god, you look gorgeous,” she whispered in Cassie’s ear.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” Cassie said, embarrassed to feel her eyes fill with tears.
Emerson pulled back to look at her face. “Hey, why are you crying? Should I go back to L.A.?”
“No!” Cassie nearly shouted, then laughed. “No. You should stay right here with me.” She swiped at her face, pulled herself together. She dropped her voice so only Emerson could hear. “These are happy tears. I promise. It’s just…I’ve been trying so hard to resign myself to spending the holidays alone. I got through Thanksgiving, and this morning I was just giving myself a pep talk that I only had two more holidays and I’d be home free. And you’re here. You’re here.” She went up on tiptoes and kissed Emerson’s soft cheek. “I am so glad to see you.”
The rest of the party seemed to move again, as if the music had stopped and started back up, all the guests had frozen in place and were animated once more. Jonathan was suddenly at their sides.
“Merry Christmas,” he said to Cassie.
“You did this?” she asked.
“He’s a pretty persuasive guy,” Emerson commented. He had grabbed her wine glass from the counter and he handed it to her now. They clinked.
Cassie shook her head. “I never thought I’d see the day you two actually liked each other.”
“Well,” Jonathan said, picking an invisible piece of lint from his sweater. “I stil
l think she’s a bit of an ice princess.”
“And he’s sort of a whiney queen,” Emerson said.
“To royalty,” Jonathan announced, and they clinked again. Then Jonathan was off to tend to his guests.
“When did you get here?” Cassie asked, still stunned at seeing Emerson standing in front of her in the flesh. It had been over a month since they’d seen each other, since Emerson had returned to LA to take care of things there, since Cassie wondered if she’d ever see her again.
“This morning,” she said, her eyes holding Cassie’s. “God, it’s good to see you.” She quickly kissed Cassie’s mouth, apparently not caring who saw.
“This morning?” Cassie’s voice combined shock and hurt.
Emerson lay a warm hand on her upper arm. “Jonathan wanted it to be a surprise. It was fine. I holed up at the inn with Mary going over the receipts from the past month, looking over some ideas she has for spring.”
Cassie recalled Jonathan having some weird business trip this morning. He left early and had to skip their morning coffee date. Two and two suddenly made four. “Jonathan got you at the airport.”
“He did. We spent three hours in the car together and rather than kill each other, I think we’re going to be pretty good friends.” She sipped her wine as she glanced around the room at all the people milling about. “We had some pretty frank discussion.”
Cassie grimaced. “This could either be a really good thing or my worst nightmare. I haven’t decided yet.”
Emerson laughed as Cassie’s parents walked up to them and hugged Emerson.
It was all a bit surreal to Cassie. Ever since Emerson had sat down with Mary and Jack and hashed out details for running the inn, Cassie’s parents had gained new respect for her, as had Jonathan. Her parents chatted with Emerson now like they were old friends as Cassie watched, almost removed.
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