The Night We Met

by Rinyu, Beth

  “That will work fine,” I replied with a little more confidence.

  “Okay then, I’m really looking forward to it.” He turned around when he reached the doorway. “Oh, and please feel free to bring your significant others. I don’t like to leave my wife behind when I’m parlaying business with pleasure. She won’t feel so out of place with other people there.” His request was posed more as a demand.

  I nodded in an effort to get him out of there as quickly as I could before Bridgette broke down right in front of him. Once the elevator doors closed behind him, Bridgette stormed into her office.

  “Let me know when you get the proposal,” I said as I stood in her doorway. She was silent, staring at her laptop screen, taking her frustration out on her keyboard. “Did you hear me?” I demanded.

  She slammed her laptop closed and locked eyes with me. “Yes, I heard you! Just as I heard you agree to that ridiculous deadline.”

  I took a step past the threshold and into her office. “Why is it ridiculous?”

  “Two weeks! The research involved for this should take at least two months, and you know it! There is no way—”

  “There is a way, and it will be done.” I didn’t think it was possible for her to dislike me any more, but judging by the scowl plastered across her face, I was certain the dislike catapulted to hate. I dug my heels into the carpet and turned around to exit.

  “I have a life outside of this place, you know?” she shouted.

  I stopped dead in my tracks and jerked my head in her direction. “And, for the next two weeks, this will be your life.”

  Chapter 11

  Emme

  “IS THERE A stronger word for hate? Because, if so, that’s how I feel about him!” Bridgette shouted into the phone.

  “Loathe.”

  “What?”

  “I believe the word you’re looking for is loathe. You loathe him.”

  “Well, if that means I absolutely despise him with every fiber of my being, then yes…I loathe him.”

  I laughed to myself. Turned out Bridgette had the right words for how she was feeling all along.

  “He’s just so…smug and demanding. He thinks he knows so much more than me. He’s got that total male ego going on. Doesn’t want to think that a woman could actually be smarter than he is. Honestly, Em, I don’t know how you deal with him.”

  I did see a lot of those traits in Lukas that Bridgette spoke of, but I also saw another side of him as well, one that Bridgette would never be privy to. He was funny in his own weird sort of way. He could go from being a smart-ass to a sweetheart in a matter of seconds. In addition to his smug, sarcastic way, he had a caring, gentle, giving side to him…especially in the bedroom. Bridgette continued her tirade of how he was making her life a living hell while I continued to daydream about the last time Lukas and I were together. His hands moving about my naked body, his lips trailing every inch of my skin, and the pleasurable state he had put me in.

  It had been a few days since I last spoke to him, and I tried to ignore the sinking feeling when the day would end without a call or text from him. I had said too much the last time we were together. I came off as being needy, the exact opposite of how I claimed I wasn’t. Maybe I was wrong to think we had connected on another level because, judging by his silence, he didn’t feel the same. I was so stupid. Why didn’t I just stick to the original plan? Now, here he was pushing my sister to the brink of a nervous breakdown, and I was powerless to stop it. I didn’t want to be the first to reach out to him. I may have said too much the other night, but I refused to resort to desperation.

  “Well, I’m sorry I can’t be of much help to you. I haven’t heard from him since Sunday morning.”

  “That’s because he’s been up my ass for the past four days. The earliest I’ve gotten home this week is ten p.m.! Because he went ahead and agreed to a ridiculous deadline, that’s now…a week and a half away.”

  Through my sister’s plight, my spirits lifted ever so slightly. If things at work were as crazy as Bridgette was saying, then maybe he wasn’t ignoring me on purpose. “So, has Lukas been staying that late too?” I tried to come off as nonchalant as I could.

  “Unfortunately. Yes!”

  “I’m really sorry, Bridge. If I hear from him, I’ll try and create a distraction.”

  “Thanks. Let me get going. I have to shove my sandwich down my throat and then get back at it.”

  We hung up just as I was about to step in the boutique. I was thankful to be spending the next few hours working. It was less time to get lost in my head over how I could’ve done things differently with Lukas. My hand was on the door and everything inside of me was saying, put the damn phone in your purse and get to work. Did I mention that I rarely ever listen to my own good advice? Just the bad. I pulled up his name in my contacts, contemplating for a few brief seconds, before settling on, hey. Hey? What the hell was I thinking?

  “Excuse me!” A pushy blond woman with badly drawn-on eyebrows banged my knees with her shopping bags as I’m blocked the door.

  “Oh…I’m so sorry.” I shoved my phone in my purse and held the door open for her, watching her walk in ahead of me in her skin-tight jeans, with the seams about to bust, wobbling on her platform sandals. “You’re welcome,” I whispered to myself over her lack of manners.

  “Emme, Emme, my love!” Myra rushed from behind the counter and placed a kiss on my cheek, the same way she’d greet me every time I came into work as if she hadn’t seen me in years. She was a five-foot-one spitfire. At sixty years old she had more spunk and style than women half her age. I got to know her years ago when she had first opened her boutique. I was a frequent shopper, then worked for her part-time in college. We instantly clicked, so much so that she affectionately dubbed herself as my Jewish mother. Over the years, that title wasn’t too far of a stretch.

  She had been there for me through some of the highs and all of the lows in my life. She had never had kids of her own, and never even been married. She’d always said no man could handle her, and I believed it. She was so independent and liked to do things on her terms. I admired her so much for that. She had many admirers, whom she’d go on casual dates with, but nothing serious up until a few months ago. She met John, her latest, when he came in to buy a gift for his daughter. He was a super nice guy, divorced, handsome, and a doctor. She tried to downplay their relationship, but I saw the spark in her eyes whenever she would talk about him. Her little boutique was a gold mine, always bringing in an influx of customers, and some celebrities too. Julia Roberts had once bought a scarf there, Reese Witherspoon earrings, and Myra even was lucky enough to meet Brad Pitt when he was shopping in tow with his then wife, Angelina. She claimed he wasn’t as nice-looking in person, but I think she was just making that up because she felt bad that I had missed him.

  “What’s cooking, kid?”

  I dropped my head and looked down at the floor. “Nothing much.”

  “I know that look.” She placed her hand under my chin, forcing me to look at her. Not many people could pull off Myra’s shade of red, but it was perfect on her spiky short hair that accented her petite face.

  “Honestly, I’m fine,” I lied, instead of telling her I was stressing big-time over the stupid one-word text I’d sent Lukas just moments ago. And since I had never even told her about Lukas or my manipulative scheme, I decided to change the subject altogether. “We have a fashion emergency over there who needs some help.” I discretely pointed to the rude woman who walked in ahead of me as she pulled out a black lace dress that was two sizes too small for her and held it against herself in the mirror.

  “No,” we shook our heads and said in unison, trying our best to stifle our laughter.

  “Have at her,” Myra directed.

  I crossed the store to the rack she was standing by, clearing my throat to warn her I was coming up behind her. “Did you need help with something?” I asked.

  “No. I think I’m going to try this on.” She he
ld out the lacy black dress she’d been eyeing up, which was anything but suitable for her.

  “Sure, let me show you where the fitting room is.” I turned around to Myra, who held up her arms in defeat. I signaled back with my raised index finger for her to hold on. The infamous walk to the dressing room was always my opportunity to guide the customer in a direction they didn’t intend to take. I hadn’t failed at it yet, and I was confident this woman who looked like she should be on an episode of What Not to Wear would be no different. “So, what’s the occasion?”

  “A wedding,” she hastily replied.

  “Oh. How nice.” I stopped as we were halfway to the fitting room and eyed her up. “We have this really cool royal blue dress we got in last week that would look beautiful on you.”

  “Thanks, but I prefer to stick with the neutral colors.”

  “Really? The blue would look so nice with your hair and eye color. Can I just show it to you?”

  “I guess.” She relented once we reached the fitting room.

  “Cool, I’ll go get it while you’re trying that on. What size?” I asked.

  “Well, I’m normally a six...” Okay, a ten it was. There was no way in hell this woman was a size six.

  “Great, let me see what sizes we have left.”

  I headed to the rack with the off-the shoulder A-line dress that was perfect for her body shape. Skipping over the size six and grabbing the size ten, I headed back to the fitting room to work my magic.

  “How ya doing in there?” I shouted from the other side of the curtain.

  “It wasn’t for me.” In other words, she couldn’t get the zipper a quarter of the way up.

  “I have the dress. Unfortunately, we only had it in a ten. But why not try it on anyway so you can just get a feel of how nice that color would be on you.”

  She reached from behind the curtain and grabbed the dress from my hand. As I waited for her to change, I spotted the perfect shoe out of the corner of my eye. One with a heel she wouldn’t kill herself in.

  “Believe it or not it fits.” Her voice carried from over the curtain.

  “Really? That’s great!” I feigned my surprise.

  As she slid the curtain open, I took a step back to check out my suggestion. As expected, everything about it was perfection, the color, the size, and the fit. I was almost too good at this. She twirled, examining herself from every angle in the full-length mirror just outside the fitting room with the smile never leaving her face.

  “I would’ve never picked this out for myself, but I have to say it looks fantastic on me.”

  “It really does,” I agreed.

  “Oh, wow, that is stunning on you,” Myra added as she passed by.

  “And I was thinking...” I dashed over to the shoe I’d been eyeing up and grabbed it off the display. “These would look perfect with that dress.”

  “Yellow?” She crinkled her nose.

  I nodded. “What size are you?” I asked before she could even protest.

  “Seven...but—”

  I flipped the shoe over, relieved to find the number seven imprinted on the bottom.

  “Look at that. This just happens to be a seven.”

  She let out a reluctant sigh, finally giving in and sliding it on her foot as I draped the beaded gold Y-style necklace over her neck.

  “Wow!” Her eyes widened in disbelief over how it was all pulled together.

  “Shall I get you the other shoe?” I chuckled.

  By the time we were finished, she had purchased the dress, the shoes, the necklace, and a wrap. And I was fairly certain I was her new best friend.

  “You are too good at this,” Myra said.

  “That’s what they used to pay me the big bucks to do. Remember?” I sighed with indignation.

  “Nothing more on the job leads?” she asked.

  “Not a word. It’s just as well for right now anyway. My dad’s having some financial trouble with the bar, and I’m worried with the little scare he had a few months ago with his heart. So, for now, I have to be there to help him out all I can.”

  She cocked her eyebrow and continued folding the green blouse in her hands.

  “What?” I snapped.

  “What about Bridgette? Has she taken on any of the responsibility?”

  “She’s got a lot going on with her job right now. I can’t expect her—”

  “Emme, he’s her father too. It should be fifty-fifty. Did you forget you would have a lot going on with your job too, if you chose to stay there?”

  “I know, but...” I shook my head. She was right. For the past year the brunt of the burden had fallen on me, but I had never asked for help. I was certain if I did, Bridgette would’ve pitched in.

  “But nothing...you’ve been nothing short of the perfect daughter, but your happiness matters too. Just a thought,” she said, walking off to the back room.

  I bit my bottom lip. She was right. That was the problem with Myra. She was blunt, even if it meant scathing your feelings every now and then. My phone vibrated from my purse and I ran behind the counter, wasting no time pulling it out, smiling at the sight of his name, but not the premise of his text.

  Lukas: Hey?

  Just as expected. Dumbest ice breaker ever, even to someone who was familiar with American salutations. I smiled as a thought crossed my mind. I typed “how have you been?” in my Internet browser of my phone followed by translate to German. What in the what? I looked at the letters on my phone screen that may as well be Chinese, then hit select, copy, and paste into the text message.

  Me: Wie ist es dir Gegangen

  Impressed with my quick comeback, I gripped my phone tightly, eagerly waiting for his reply. I sighed heavily when five seconds passed with no response. What the hell? Why did I respond back? Maybe what I thought to be clever he believed to be stupid. I paced back and forth, happy there was no one in the store to see me carrying on like a caged animal. “That’s it, I’m turning off my phone,” I said to myself. If he tries to text me back…or if he doesn’t, I’ll never know because my phone is getting turned off…in two more minutes. “You hear that? You’ve got two more minutes to text me back,” I shouted at my phone. I had officially lost it. “It worked!” I jumped up and down when my phone vibrated with a text.

  Lukas: Beschäftigt. Ich wusste nicht, dass Sie Ihre Fähigkeit, Deutsch zu sprechen, durchhalten. Vielleicht sollte dies unsere Art sein, ständig zu kommunizieren, Emmeline.

  Now what? I had no idea how he replied other than my name, and I wasn’t going to find out anytime soon because the two women who just entered the store were demanding my undivided attention. I put my phone on the counter and catered to their every whim. I was trying desperately to focus on my customers and ignore the vibration just a few feet away, signaling that another text message had come through. Everything inside of me wanted to scream at the tall brunette with the bad Botox, “I don’t really care what color you go with!” I just wanted to see what was on my phone.

  “Emme, would you mind closing up tonight? John just called. He’s home from his medical conference early and wants to meet for dinner.” Myra created a welcoming distraction as she appeared from the back room.

  I flashed her a teasing grin. “Ohhh…Myra’s gonna be getting busy!” I joked as she playfully smacked me on the arm. “No problem. On one condition…”

  She raised an eyebrow.

  I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Can you handle those two so I can make a phone call?”

  She nodded, and I made a mad dash for my phone, running into the back room and nearly falling over my feet to see what awaited me.

  Lukas: What’s the matter? Did the translator break on your phone?

  Me: So, you found out my secret. Just wanted to say hi and see how you’ve been.

  Lukas: Working.

  Working? That’s it? Nothing else? Not even a, “how have you been” back? Certain that was his indirect way of blowing me off, I decided to put my phone away and rescue Myra from
The Real Housewives of—I don’t know where. That was until my phone vibrated in my hand once again.

  Lukas: What have you been up to?

  I smiled so hard, I could almost feel my jaw crack.

  Me: Not much. Working too. That’s about it.

  “Emme, can we get your opinion?” Myra called, leaving me no other choice but to put down my phone and forget about the text messages I should’ve never sent in the first place.

  Chapter 12

  Lukas

  EMMELINE’S TEXT WAS the highlight of an otherwise shitty day. It was obvious that Bridgette and I didn’t work well together at all. We would’ve been getting so much more accomplished if she didn’t challenge me on everything. Clearly, she was used to having everyone bow down to her every whim...but I wasn’t everyone. I scanned the first half of the proposal she and one of the IT guys had put together and shook my head.

  “What? Don’t even tell me you can do better because there’s no way, if we’re going to be competitive in price,” Bridgette barked, adamantly shaking her head.

  “It could’ve been if you had stuck to my original plan.”

  “Your original plan didn’t take into consideration the cost of the server upgrade that’s going to be required to run this new software, or are you saying you know more than our IT department now?” Over the past few days of working together she had dropped her kiss-ass façade altogether. I still made her uneasy, but she wasn’t afraid to speak up. The new persona she was displaying was like a double-edged sword. I hated that she had to argue with me on everything, but I liked to see she wasn’t afraid to take charge and stand up for what she believed in. If I was being completely honest, that was what had drawn me to Emmeline. Through her initial awkwardness, she still wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, even if she did come off as anything but intimidating. There I went again, thinking about her again after I said I’d distance myself until we got through the proposal.

  “Let’s pick this up again tomorrow,” I said, dropping my gaze to my watch. Bridgette sat up straight in her chair and stared at me questionably, waiting for me to steal her fleeting moment of hope to escape at a decent hour.