“You’re worried about your dad, though.”
“I am. But he’s a grown man. He can drive across two countries to confront his cheating wife without me fussing over him.” Emma patted her face and pushed her shoulders back. “I guess it’s good my dad is taking some action for once.” Her eyes returned to Derek’s. “Anyway, let’s not talk about it anymore. I’d rather talk about you in this tux.” Her eyes sparkled and a sly smile curved her lips. “This is the one. You look hot.”
Derek angled his chin and struck a pose. “You think?”
She stepped up on the platform and smoothed down his lapel. “Definitely. Very 007.”
She was right. Sizing up their reflection in the mirrors, he thought he could almost be the fabled secret agent. And sultry Emma could be his femme fatale. Cam was a lucky man to have this woman’s love.
Where had that thought come from?
It was true, though. Cam was beyond fortunate to have two such amazing women in love with him. He hated Cam more than usual today.
He turned back to face the mirrors. “So now that I’m settled, what are we going to do about you?”
She studied his reflection. “What? I don’t need a tux.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “What are you going to wear to this shindig?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Something. A dress.”
“Tell me it won’t be that thing you wore to Cameron’s birthday party.” His eyes strayed to her chest, which was too covered up today in her red turtleneck, and replayed her wardrobe malfunction in stunning mental high-def. He felt his pants tighten, and he forced himself to think of the last Falcons game he’d watched.
Emma, blessedly unaware of his thoughts, folded her arms. “That dress wasn’t hideous.”
“Oh, it was.”
“Well, it might need some tailoring so it doesn’t fall down again, but otherwise it’s just fine.”
“No, the best thing that dress had going for it was the falling down.” He winked at her.
Emma narrowed her eyes at him, but he continued. “It was a disaster. Judging by how you looked without it, you could do a lot better.”
He heard a sniffle. Alarmed that his teasing had provoked tears, he stepped over and awkwardly patted Emma’s shoulder.
“Sorry,” he said. “You’ve got the raw goods. I just thought I’d give you some pointers on how to polish up a bit. Help you like you’re helping me.”
“It’s not you.” Emma looked up at him and sniffed, her eyes red-rimmed and watery. “My mom always wanted me to dress better. She was always trying to make me be more fancy and elegant. Like her.”
He leaned down and hugged her. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” She pulled away. “You couldn’t have known.”
The salesman reappeared. He clapped, then fluttered his hands around Derek, making adjustments. “This looks perfect on you!”
“Thanks.” Derek doubted the man’s flattery, but he was already sold. “We’ll take it.” The man took the tag and ran off to ring it up.
Derek twirled Emma around and swung her out, showcasing his adequate dance moves—another gift from his mother. When he pulled Emma back in, he dipped her over his arm. “Come on,” he told her, gazing into her eyes, “let’s do some shopping for you. It’ll cheer you up.”
“Shopping never cheers me up.”
He tilted his chin, leaving her suspended there as he considered. “Well, you’ve never been shopping with me.”
Emma blinked. “Lead the way, Mr. Bond.”
Chapter Fifteen
Emma was just emerging from her final hairspray cloud when the sound of the doorbell startled her. She glanced at the clock. Seven thirty. Derek was right on time.
Not completely true, though. The retirement party started at seven. They were already noticeably late. But Derek had insisted they show up sometime past eight—more than an hour late—so they could make a grand entrance. It wasn’t her style. Who was she kidding? She had no style. She’d always been of the opinion that if you worked hard and did your best then good things would happen.
Like Cam getting engaged to someone else. And your mother running away with the palm-licking toddler you used to babysit.
Obviously her previous game plan had not yielded results. That’s why she was willing to listen to Derek and his daring plans. She’d had to do a gut check a hundred times today to see if she really did have the moxie to go through with tonight. Her answer was still the same. She had to. Cam was worth it. And nothing in the many years they’d been friends had gotten her to where she’d wanted to be. In his arms. Cherished. Loved. His.
That fleeting night of kisses was the closest she’d gotten. But she wanted more from him than a makeout session that drove him into the arms of his ex-girlfriend and then made him propose. She wanted forever.
And what preceded big rewards? Big risks.
She was ready.
She opened the door just as Derek raised his hand to ring the bell again. He looked up and his mouth dropped open. His eyes widened in appreciation. A slow, seductive smile curved his lips.
“Well, now,” he drawled. “This changes everything.”
She tucked her newly shortened hair behind her ear. He reached out and pulled it back around to frame her face.
“What?”
“Mr. Cameron Rushton will be unable to resist you.”
Emma felt herself blush. She certainly hoped Cam would be unable to resist her. Maybe their plan would work tonight. And even though Derek would arrive with Emma, he’d take Honey home. And she’d be going home with Cam.
“Ready?” Derek offered his arm. She laughed and took it.
They left her house, but not before she did a last quick face-check in the mirror by her front door. Her hair was shorter now. Not boyishly short, but shorter than shoulder-length, which was the shortest it had ever been.
It was a shame her mother wasn’t here to see her. Her new gown—a form-hugging emerald-green dress slit in all the right places—made the most of her curves. A new haircut flattered her face by drawing attention to her eyes and cheekbones. She’d also gotten a complete makeover at Sephora, which her mother had wanted Emma to do for years. Emma had always balked at letting the former beauty queen try to change her appearance. Worried she’d disappoint her, Emma didn’t let her try. Then Emma couldn’t be disappointing. She’d never be the beauty queen her mother was. She didn’t need to let her mother prove it. Emma would rather be blamed for a strong will than for being an actual, demonstrable disappointment.
But in the end, it didn’t matter that she’d kept her mom from finding out what a complete failure she was. She’d left anyway.
∞∞∞
The ride to the party was pleasant. Emma had never been in Derek’s car before and with his tough-guy, bad-boy exterior she’d expected him to drive up on a Ducati or something, but he drove a small, silver SUV. She still had to be careful stepping into the vehicle since the dress he’d encouraged her to buy left very little room to maneuver. But she knew she had to be daring. And this dress, with its plunging neckline, short hemline, and barely-room-to-breathe form-fittedness was nothing if not daring.
The drive was short. Emma would’ve preferred more time spent in Derek’s relaxing company, but she couldn’t put off confrontation forever. Besides, she reminded herself, this social insecurity was in the service of getting what she really wanted.
Derek pulled the car up to the Fernbank Museum of Natural History. Her boss had spared no expense in renting out the gorgeous venue for the retirement party of his long-time assistant, an Earth Drinks institution who had worked for the company for almost as long as its cola parent company had been around, which was since 1901. Well, maybe she hadn’t been around since then. But close.
The beautiful building sat at the end of a long, tree-lined driveway. Artfully placed outdoor lights illuminated the dinosaur statues in front as well as the façade’s columns. It looked like a billionai
re’s mansion. Emma felt like they were pulling up to Wayne Manor in the Batman films—before the explosions. She suddenly felt grown-up and very elegant going to such a fancy formal event. She had to remind herself that this was just a work party, despite the elegant venue. She would not, after all, be rubbing elbows with Gotham’s elite.
Derek parked the car, and the easy banter they’d enjoyed on the trip there stalled. Silent, they looked at each other until Derek looked away and scratched his chin. She could see then that he was as nervous as she was. She put her hand over his where it rested on the gear shift.
“Don’t worry. We’ll do great.”
“You’ll do great,” he corrected and cleared his throat. Looking out the window, he added, “This is your world. I’m an intruder.”
She was amazed that he could feel that way. He was easily one of the most handsome, self-assured, and confident men she’d ever met. How could he doubt himself, regardless of the setting?
“That’s crazy,” she said. “Of course you’ll belong. This is just a stupid work thing. It’s a fancy place, sure, but it’s fancy to everyone. Not a single person in there thinks this is a normal Saturday night. You’re going to do great.” She squeezed his arm.
He took a deep breath. “Thanks.”
“No problem. And don’t worry—” She made herself smile here. “Even if you get lucky with Honey right away, and I’m still chasing after Cam all night, you can leave me. Eyes on the prize. And I believe in you. Especially in that tux.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him.
Derek smiled and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Em. But I have a feeling we’re both going to succeed. You could give Honey a run for her money in that dress.”
She tugged on his suit sleeve. “Come on, then. Let’s start running.”
Chapter Sixteen
Derek wouldn’t let Emma get out of the car until he’d gone around and opened her door for her. Might as well do this thing right. He took her hand and held it as they walked to the building, as much for his own comfort as for appearances. With every step he felt his confidence increase. Especially since he didn’t think Emma was faking her enthusiasm for him in this tux. He only hoped Honey would be as appreciative.
He held the door open for Emma and watched her hips sway as she preceded him into the grand foyer. His dress shoes—which were not new like his suit and sported multiple scuffs he’d tried to buff out—slapped hard against the slippery marble floor. How was Emma staying upright in those heels?
They descended the stairs onto the main floor, and more than one person turned to regard them with interest. Derek had to stop at the foot of the staircase to stare at the colossal dinosaur skeleton, several stories high, whose body and tail aligned with the curve of the spacious, airy room.
He felt like a cockroach.
The size and scale and sheer elegance of the room made him feel tiny and insignificant—and a lot like a varmint. And he hadn’t even met anyone yet.
Emma, who’d gotten a few steps ahead of him, turned around. She must have sensed how he was feeling from the expression on his face because she backtracked and took his arm with a tenderness in her eyes that made him swallow.
“Come on,” she said. “Time to dazzle.”
She squeezed his hand, and he followed her lead, tightening his hold on her as they entered the party proper.
Immediately, there was a stir.
Murmurs and glances and even surreptitious pointing made Derek turn around to see what was causing the commotion.
Realization dawned: they were. Or rather, Emma was.
She was drawing their stares like an A-list celebrity. He found his own eyes straying to her face, her lips, her eyes. She was something to see, all right. He puffed up with pride—borrowed, as it was—and forgot about being the cockroach. Instead he was the king.
A chubby brunette with helmet-like curls pounced on them.
“Emma, is that you?” She sounded as if she couldn’t believe it, and Derek bristled at her tone. Yes, Emma looked alluring, but it was still Emma, attractive as she ever was. No one should be surprised. Except maybe Cameron who’d always been too shortsighted to know what he had.
“Yes, it’s me, Wendy.” Emma turned a tolerant smile on the woman before introducing him. “Derek, this is Wendy from Accounting.” Emma hugged his arm. He could feel her breasts pressed up against him, even through the layers of fabric separating them.
“And Wendy, this is Derek, my boyfriend.”
Emma said it so smoothly that he smiled and for a few seconds forgot that he wasn’t actually her anything. He patted her hand on his arm.
Wendy’s mouth made an “O” as she took him in. “Wow. Really? I mean…wow.”
She stared too long, and Derek had the uncomfortable feeling she was undressing him with her eyes. And maybe doing more than that behind the blank stare. He shuddered, trying and failing not to picture it himself. He wondered if Wendy’s department had covered the company’s policies on workplace sexual harassment. They needed to.
Paul from Logistics, as Emma introduced him, finally broke Wendy’s creepy concentration. He edged in close and in a nasally voice said, “Does that mean Emma’s off the market?”
Derek sincerely hoped this guy was nowhere near Emma’s market. What was with the lonely-hearts club at this place?
Wendy grabbed his free arm. “Do you work out?” She giggled and ran her hand up to his bicep. He was starting to think she’d already had one too many at the open bar.
“Um, yes. I’m a personal trainer.”
“Oooh!” She squeezed his arm again before turning to Emma, but she still didn’t release him. Claustrophobia was inching in on him. “Emma, if I were you, I’d put a ring on this guy. Let women know he’s taken before they get their hopes up. Else they won’t know! They won’t know and they’ll get…ideas!” She seized his arm with both her hands. Derek cringed. Wendy herself had a few too many ideas.
Emma took one of Wendy’s grasping hands and pulled it gently away. Derek extricated himself as Emma said, “Oh, I will, Wendy. You’re right. What an excellent idea.”
The crowd was thickening around them. The empty space that Wendy left was quickly filled by another woman. This one had an overeager expression that made him think that he should wish Wendy back.
That thought immediately fled, though, when a friendly grin spread across her face, and she shook his hand like she’d just made it onstage for The Price is Right.
“Derek! It’s so good to meet you!” she enthused, still pumping his hand. “Emma has told me so much about you. And I can see she didn’t exaggerate at all.”
Emma blushed and looked at him. Derek laughed.
“In fact,” Suellen continued, “we’ve heard so many good things about you, we started to wonder if you were real!”
He was real all right, and willing to prove it to Emma’s friends and coworkers for the sake of their deal. These people staring at them with wide, expectant eyes wanted a show. And he didn’t mind giving them one.
“Excuse me, folks.” He bent his head and captured Emma’s lips in his own.
There was an audible gasp from those nearby. Emma’s lips were soft and yielding and the kiss was sweet. So sweet he wanted to lap her up like melting frozen custard on an August afternoon. His pulse accelerated, but, before he could forget himself, he broke from the kiss.
When Derek pulled back, Emma’s face was aflame. He wondered if he’d made a mistake—kissing her here in front of all her work friends—until he saw Cam frozen stock-still in front of them, staring. Derek silently applauded his timing.
“Emma?” Cam choked out.
“Hi, Cam.” She smiled at the big oaf, her pretty face flushed with the lingering effect of Derek’s kiss.
Cam’s eyes just about bugged out of his skull. Derek wanted to laugh at him, loudly, right in his surprised face.
“Emma, wow. You look, wow.”
Emma smiled, and the space around her seemed to shimmer. Great res
ult. Emma had hooked Cam well and good, the invisible fishing line trailing straight from his mouth to her hand. He was ready to be reeled in. When more of her coworkers gathered around to speak to her, Derek excused himself and left her to them.
It was his turn to go fishing.
∞∞∞
He didn’t ask her. He didn’t think about what he’d say. He didn’t hesitate. He went over to where Honey was talking to some old guy, grasped her hand, and led her out onto the dance floor.
“Dance with me,” he said in a low voice near her ear. He thought he knew what she wanted, and he was right. She wanted a man who’d take charge like Cam never would. She melted into his arms.
He hadn’t seen her since she’d fired him as her trainer. The sight of her had his heart knocking up against his ribcage. He held her close, but not too close, and led them in the steps to the classic big band music playing, just like his mother had taught him so many years ago.
After twirls, swirls, and dips, he pulled her back in, and she clung to him.
“Why, Derek?”
Even though he had his suspicions, he still asked. “Why, what?”
Honey put her hand on the back of his neck, and a pleasant shiver ran down his spine. He breathed into her hair, waiting for her answer.
“Why are you with Emma?”
He shouldn’t do it. He shouldn’t give her the answer she wanted. He shouldn’t tell her it’s because she’s made it impossible to be with her.
“Why not?” He pulled back to cock an eyebrow at her. “She’s beautiful, fun, exciting. We’re going to have a great life together.” He thought about it for a second. “We already do.”
“Derek.”
He knew what she wanted. Total lovesick capitulation to her. She wasn’t going to get it. He swung her out and refused to meet her eye.
“Derek,” she said again, when he twirled her back in. Her voice was rough and husky.
Keeping the Pieces Page 9