by Fiona Riley
Emerson arched her eyebrow and smiled at the way Hayley squirmed with embarrassment. She was adorable. And now she was thinking about her naked. This was going to be an interesting few days.
“It’s time, miss,” Francis said as he leaned down between them. “We’re ready for you now.”
Emerson nodded and stretched before she stood. She looked back at Hayley, her heartbeat picking up as Hayley’s gorgeous hazel eyes locked on hers in that way that took her breath away recently. She felt tongue-tied. Was she staring again? She should say something. Anything. “Ready to embark on our big adventure, buddy?” As soon as the words left her lips, she frowned. She should say anything but that.
Hayley cringed as she discarded the remainder of her drink. “Sure, as long as you promise to never call me buddy again.”
Emerson had no idea what possessed her to say that in the first place. She couldn’t remember an occasion in her entire life when she’d used buddy as a term of affection, endearment, or otherwise. She must be nervous about the flight. There was clearly no other explanation for that dorky slipup. Right?
“Got it. No more buddy. Check.” Emerson gave her an enthusiastic thumbs-up because she was evidently possessed by the nerd devil and had no cool left in her system whatsoever. What was coming over her? And why was she feeling nervous around Hayley all of a sudden? Oh, maybe because she thought she was beautiful and smart and soon there would be no one there to run interference if she gave in to her desire to touch Hayley’s skin and taste her lips. She was feeling off. Like she didn’t trust herself. And that was a dangerous feeling to have right now. This was going to be a long flight.
* * *
Emerson took the window seat with Hayley seated to her right along the aisle. She preferred first class for multiple reasons, but the chief one was that there were only two seats side by side and not more. That afforded her a little more privacy, even if only a little. Francis was positioned behind them to the right across the aisle from Hayley. Emerson had learned this was standard security protocol. He could watch the client and the surrounding passengers that way.
They boarded without any real commotion, which she was grateful for. A stewardess and one of the pilots stopped her for a picture and told her they appreciated her work, but otherwise it had been quiet. She’d learned that when flying commercially, it was best to board last to her first-class seat while someone blocked the aisle. That increased the odds of maintaining her anonymity, though it didn’t always work out that way.
Emerson exhaled slowly as the captain spoke over the intercom and informed the passengers about the route they would be traveling, the speed, the weather, whatever. She ignored this information at all costs and avoided thinking about it. She kept her gaze directed out the window as the flight attendants walked through the emergency preparation protocol. She felt Hayley’s eyes on her and she turned to look at her.
“If you could be any animal, what would you be?” Hayley asked.
“A domestic house cat,” Emerson replied, without hesitation.
“Of all the animals in all the world—and you choose a domestic house cat?” Hayley looked at her skeptically.
Emerson shrugged. She tensed slightly as the plane moved forward on the runway. “Well, I like the idea of being a tiger or a lion or a panther, but I don’t like the idea of being hunted as big game.”
Emerson saw someone shift over Hayley’s shoulder and suddenly her answer felt too real. A passenger two rows over was leaning forward, likely trying to get a better view of her. She sank back into the seat, trying to hide behind Hayley’s slender frame.
“You mean like you are on a daily basis?” Hayley had followed Emerson’s gaze and shrugged off her linen shirt as the young man pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Emerson watched with relief as Hayley shifted in her seat and draped the now unbuttoned, open shirt over her head, effectively blocking the passenger’s attempt at taking a picture.
“Precisely,” Emerson said and laughed at Hayley’s creative response to the intrusion. Hayley looked ridiculous. Emerson loved that she didn’t seem bothered by it. “That’s some impressive headgear you’ve got there.”
“Didn’t I tell you I’m secretly cotton royalty? This is my official headpiece, but I typically reserve it for formal occasions.” Hayley’s expression remained serious. Emerson laughed harder.
“My apologies, your royal linen-ness. I had no idea I was in the presence of such starchy greatness,” Emerson said as she curtseyed in her seat.
“You’re forgiven,” Hayley replied and gave her a subtle nod. “We choose to remain as anonymous as possible, in order to best assimilate with the ordinary folk.”
“You are too kind.” Hayley didn’t even crack a smile. Emerson was afraid if she laughed any harder she would pee.
Unperturbed by her near hysterics, Hayley pressed on, asking, “Why a cat, though?”
Emerson struggled to make a coherent sentence between bouts of laughter. “I like how free they are. They don’t have any true masters—they sort of do their own thing, on their own terms. But they can climb and leap and sneak around like little furry ninjas if they so choose. Plus, they curl in those cute little warm balls and look so peaceful when they nap. Which takes up like twenty hours of their day—they are professional nappers. That sounds sort of heavenly.” She nudged Hayley playfully. “What about you?”
“I’m definitely more of an eagle or bird kind of chick,” Hayley replied. “I like the idea of being able to up and take off—fly wherever I want, whenever I want, migrate someplace warm. You know, get away.”
Emerson did a double take when she realized their plane had taken off and hit cruising altitude while she and Hayley were talking. She hadn’t noticed or needed to practice her deep breathing. It was a miracle. No, it was Hayley. “Thank you.”
Hayley gave her a knowing smile. “Of course, anytime.”
Hayley shivered, the coolness of the plane causing visible goose bumps on her skin. Emerson noted that Hayley’s nipples were firmly pressing through the thin camisole as well. She gestured toward the flight attendants currently admonishing the amateur paparazzi over Hayley’s shoulder. “I think we’re safe for a bit, your royal fabric-ness. I thank you for your service.”
“Glad to help. Damn, this plane is cold,” Hayley said and she shivered once more as she pulled the shirt back over her shoulders and buttoned it, leaving the top three buttons open as before. Emerson noticed that as well.
Emerson reached into the seat back pocket in front of her and pulled out a neatly folded airplane blanket. She draped it across them both and gave Hayley a small smile. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Hayley pulled the blanket up to her chest and scooted closer, snugging under the warmth. “Me, too.”
Chapter Twelve
Hayley woke up with a serious case of dry mouth. She wasn’t sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was suddenly very aware that Emerson’s shoulder was currently acting as her pillow. She froze there for a moment in panic, trying to figure out how she could casually sit up and pretend none of that sloppiness had just occurred. She was silently cursing the rum and soda when Emerson shifted a little.
“I had them bring you a water—it’s in the seat back pouch.” Emerson’s voice was melodious next to Hayley’s ear. She let herself get lost in it and fantasize about the intimacy of it. Emerson, so close, talking just to her. Hayley had dreamed about this. The soft feminine scent of Emerson’s perfume combined with what she assumed was Emerson’s shampoo intoxicated her. This was better than anything she had dreamed about. As she willed the scents to memory, a thought occurred to her: she was only this close to Emerson because she’d obnoxiously fallen asleep on her. And now she was internally panicking. She carefully lifted her head from what was probably the most comfortable shoulder she had ever fallen asleep on and smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
Emerson surveyed her with amused eyes as she parroted, “Of course, any time.”
A q
uick bout of turbulence alerted Hayley that not only had she been pleasantly resting on Emerson’s shoulder for God knew how long, but at some point, her hand had worked its way under the armrest and onto Emerson’s lap. The reflexive hand squeeze from Emerson brought on by the turbulence comforted Hayley into thinking that maybe she hadn’t overstepped in her sleep, intentionally or otherwise.
When Emerson made no attempt to shrug off her hand now that she was awake—and the turbulence was over—Hayley took it as a sign that they were making progress in their relationship and settled more comfortably into her seat.
* * *
Hayley had concluded about three games of Uno ago that Emerson was rigging the deck. She was being absolutely destroyed by her. It didn’t matter how many times she shuffled or cut the deck—somehow Emerson ended up with a clean sweep of her hand every time. It was sort of getting pathetic.
“I give up.” Hayley exhaled dramatically and flopped back. “You are the undisputed Uno champion.”
Emerson gave a little fist pump and clapped quietly before she shuffled the cards once for good measure. She slipped them back into the case and handed it back to Hayley. “I can’t tell you the last time I played Uno.”
Hayley gave her a challenging look and rolled her eyes. “I don’t believe you for a second. That was some masterful skill displayed, Em. You’ve obviously been honing those talents in private.”
“’Scuse me, Miss Emerson?” A small voice next to Hayley drew their attention.
The voice belonged to a little girl. Hayley estimated she couldn’t be older than five or six years old. Her hair was in lopsided pigtails, and she was clutching a little book to her chest as she shifted back and forth nervously.
Emerson smiled and leaned over Hayley’s lap to talk to her. “Hey there. What’s your name?”
“Wendy Timmons.” Her eyes were as big as saucers when Emerson reached out to shake her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Wendy Timmons.” Emerson gestured toward the book the little girl was holding so tightly that her knuckles were white. “What have you got there?”
“It’s the third book of the Adventure Frog series. It’s my favorite.” Wendy nodded enthusiastically and flashed a gap-toothed smile. “Zelda Frog is my hero.”
Hayley laughed and looked back at Emerson. The gleeful look on her face melted Hayley’s heart. Emerson had voiced Zelda in five installments of Adventure Frog. Alison’s Wikipedia detective work had clued Hayley into a sixth one in the works for sometime next year. Then there was that full-length animated movie she’d mentioned. The Adventure Frog partnership was promising to be an enormous payoff for Emerson. It was a huge hit with the pre-adolescent crowd and showed no signs of slowing down. This was quite the departure from her much more adult and mature movie roles—she made a note to ask Emerson how she got into that later.
Emerson replied, “She’s my hero, too. A shero, even.”
Wendy giggled and stepped forward, wedging herself in the space between Hayley’s legs and the seat in front of her. She looked a little shy before thrusting her book toward Emerson and asking, “Will you read some to me?”
Emerson looked momentarily surprised before she glanced up. Hayley followed the direction of her gaze and saw a woman she presumed was the little girl’s grandmother a few rows in front of them mouthing, “Sorry.”
Emerson gave her a kind smile and shrugged. “Is that okay with you?”
The older woman nodded, and Emerson directed her attention to the flight attendant standing nearby. “All good?”
“As long as the seat belt sign is off, and the guardians on board are fine with it, that’s okay by me.” He gave her a quick thumbs-up and resumed taking the drink order of the person adjacent to them.
“Well then, I’d be happy to.” Emerson put the armrest up separating her and Hayley and shifted so her back was angled toward the window. “Do you think you can fit between me and my friend Hayley here, so we can read quietly together?”
Wendy nodded and scampered between them in one quick motion. She cuddled close to Emerson and pulled her arm around her shoulder, and Hayley thought she might die from cuteness overload.
Emerson smiled and took the book. As she began to read, Wendy pulled Hayley’s hand onto her lap and nodded encouragingly.
Hayley watched with amusement as Emerson acted out all the parts. She kept her volume low so as not to disturb the other passengers, and a few times Wendy’s happy giggles drowned her out entirely. She tickled Wendy during one portion of the story, which caused Wendy to squirm and pull Hayley’s hand up to her chest to protect herself. Hayley’s fingers brushed against Emerson’s in the tickle assault, and Hayley laced them together to help Wendy escape the Zelda-voiced tickle monster. Emerson squeezed her fingers and winked at Hayley when Wendy stopped squirming and pointed to the book for her to finish where they left off. Emerson nodded and repositioned her arm around Wendy’s shoulders, keeping her right hand entwined with Hayley’s. She ended the chapter and closed the book just as Wendy’s adult approached them.
“That’s enough now, Wendy. Let the nice ladies rest before the plane lands.” The older woman had a kind face and an even kinder voice.
“Are you sure, Gramma?” Wendy pouted and wiggled closer to Emerson.
Her grandmother nodded as she gave them a soft smile. “Thank you for humoring her.”
Emerson released Hayley’s hand to help Wendy stand between the seats. “Thanks for being my reading partner, Wendy.”
Wendy smiled—her missing front tooth on display again—as she leaned forward and gave Emerson a big hug and a sloppy kiss on her cheek.
Hayley was surprised when she too got a cheek nuzzle.
Wendy stage-whispered to her. “Thanks for saving me from the tickle monster, Hayley.”
“Any time. Someone needs to stand up to those bullies,” Hayley replied with a serious nod.
“C’mon, Wendy.” Her grandmother took her hand and pulled her toward the aisle.
Hayley watched Wendy skip back to her seat as she chattered excitedly to her grandmother before she turned to Emerson and teased, “I think you just made a new best friend.”
“Wendy has excellent taste in literature. She’s good people. I’d be lucky to be a friend of hers.” Emerson’s eyes sparkled. Hayley was entranced.
“Do you have many friends?”
Emerson seemed to consider this. “It’s hard to find people you can trust in this business, in this life. I have people I’m friendly with, but not as many friends as I’d probably like.”
“I’ll be your friend.” Hayley was being playful, but she hoped Emerson knew she was also being sincere.
“You already are.” Emerson’s expression told her that her message was received. Hayley felt the butterflies in her stomach again.
“I’m very good at being a friend. The best, even.” Hayley was more than aware she’d like to be more than friends with Emerson, something that was becoming glaringly obvious the more time she spent with her, but she could do this, too. She could be a friend to Emerson. She would be. She wanted to be.
“Oh, without a doubt.” Emerson flashed her best red-carpet smile and replied in Zelda Frog’s voice, “You’re the bestest.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Miss Sterling. We’re ready for you on the mark,” the photographer’s assistant called from behind the video screen, and Hayley startled. She’d been trying—unsuccessfully—to organize the five thousand words Jonathan wanted by the end of the weekend. She was mostly unsuccessful because Emerson became less and less clothed as the minutes turned to hours.
It had been a whirlwind since they’d landed in Boston a few hours ago, at the crack of dawn. They were barely at the hotel for thirty minutes when the driver arrived to take Emerson to the photo shoot, which was supposed to be followed by an interview with The Improper Bostonian. The amount of schedule juggling this took made Hayley’s head spin. But no more than having Emerson only ten feet away—practicall
y naked—did. Hayley was having a hard time focusing on anything other than how Emerson looked under the flashing lights.
From what she understood, Emerson had contracted to be the face of a new and edgy lingerie and clothing line based out of Boston. A good portion of Willow Path was filmed on location here, and when reshoots meant Emerson had to head to the East Coast, Tremont and her team had scheduled this photo shoot and the Improper interview to overlap with the film obligations. It was a smart move schedule wise but was going to make for a very, very long day on next to no sleep. She was already feeling fatigued and she wasn’t even really working. Well, not like Emerson was. And contrary to what she had believed, this photo shoot nonsense was work. Like, real work. It was a lot of hurry up and wait, hold that pose, reapply, appear still enthusiastic and charming even after it’s been like a million hours. That kind of work. Emerson was really a pro. Hayley had gotten annoyed about fifteen minutes into this event, but Emerson smiled like it was her job. Probably because it was. Hayley didn’t envy her.
The nice thing about this, though, was that with every new wardrobe or scene change, there was a delay in shooting. So they were able to chat on and off the record about stuff. It was mostly off the record, though, and a good amount of it was about Tremont and Sebastian, but Hayley loved it. She got to see Emerson’s humor and playfulness, live and in action. She found those to be her favorite moments with Emerson—the ones where she didn’t have to analyze anything and could just chat freely. Emerson felt like an old friend in a lot of ways, particularly in those instances.
She thought back to the plane ride and how easily she had bridged the gap of their working relationship and what she now considered their friendship. It had been far too easy to reach out and take Emerson’s hand during story time with little Wendy. How fucking cute was Emerson reading to her in that frog voice? Like, seriously? It was magical. She could only imagine the kind of lasting impression she’d made on Wendy. Emerson surprised her often. But today, it wasn’t her words or actions that had Hayley distracted. Today it was her apparent comfort wearing next to nothing.