She sat back, waiting for whatever they had up their sleeves, when the waiter placed a glass of champagne in front of her. The rest of the group had similar glasses, and Mildred held hers up to the light as if examining the bubbles.
“Hell, Barb, did you order the cheapest stuff they had? Don’t you know one determines the quality of sparkling wine by how small the bubbles are? The fizz in this crap has bubbles bigger than the weenies on some of the men I’ve known.”
Emma giggled. Leave it to Mildred to get a zinger in on poor Barb who still appeared out of sorts over her disagreement with Deena. She never knew what words of insight would flow out of either of their mouths.
She took a tentative sip of the sparkling wine and raised her glass to Mildred. The old broad was dead on about her assessment of its quality. What the hell. Nothing like a crappy wine to top off an even crappier day. She chugged the contents and held out her glass for the offered refill.
“I understand there’s a party going on here.”
Downing her fourth glass, Emma’s head swung around to see a policeman standing in the doorway. He wore an old blue bobby uniform, and the color set off his eyes nicely. Too bad he was such an idiot not to figure out the obvious. And why the hell did he have a fireman with him? There shouldn’t be enough candles on her birthday cake to require a fire permit from the fire department. She’d only hit thirty nine.
“Sorry, Officer. I’ll try to get my friends to tone it down some.” She almost rolled on the floor with laughter as she scanned the women around the table.
All eyes were focused on the men in the doorway, and a couple appeared to have drool on their chins.
“Well, lass, maybe it’s better we come in and make the announcement to be sure everyone hears.”
Blue Boy stepped into the room, and the dark-eyed hunk sporting the fireman’s coat and hat followed, carrying what looked like a first aid kit.
Well, shit a brick! Did they think these women needed a paramedic when they had a little excitement? “Why don’t you come in and join us? I’m sure we can make room for you at our table and we really aren’t that rowdy.” Sharing cake with a couple of good-looking men in uniform could only make the event more festive, especially for Mildred, their resident dirty old woman.
Then again, neither of them was Ian McCabe. Instead of a desire to kiss either of the men’s full lips, she itched with the urge to rip them off. Wow, she really did have a lot of male resentment if memories of Ian created a surge of anger this strong. Before the days spent in the laird’s arms, she wouldn’t have minded a little romp with one of these men.
My, how times change.
“Excuse me.” Cutie pie in the bobby uniform called out. “Ladies. Gentlemen.” He pulled a whistle from his shirt pocket and issued a blast that pierced Emma’s ears.
Conversation in the room came to an abrupt halt.
“Thank you, everyone. I’m Officer Dirk Bone, and my fireman friend is B.L. Hose.” He pointed to his companion and grinned.
Emma groaned over the hokey names.
Yeah, right, and I’m the Queen of England. What the hell is going on here?
Officer Bone continued, “We’re here for a special reason tonight. It has come to our attention that Ms. Emma Grant is having a birthday.”
Shit, someone is going to pay big time for this. I don’t think I’m going to like whatever is going to happen.
A large hand trapped Emma left wrist and pulled her up from her chair.
Just a minute here. Who does this guy think he is?
If this was someone’s idea of a joke, they’d better knock it off.
“This is all for you, Emma.” The hose whispered in her ear before he stepped back and a song she’d never heard blasted the room.
A quick glance in his direction, and she realized the box he carried into the room was a portable CD player that now occupied a place on the table.
“Happy Birthday, baby,” the uniformed men said in unison as they gyrated around her.
Her mouth dropped open when each man grabbed the neck of his uniform and ripped it from his body, displaying dual chests of glorious rippling abs. The thongs that barely covered their fronts verified they lived up to their names.
How the hell did these women arrange strippers? This had to be Mildred’s doing, but maybe Sue Ann had had a hand in it too. Some of the remarks that came out of the Southern belle made Emma wonder if the woman was a slut at heart.
Yep, Sue Ann reminded Emma of a girl she’d known back in high school. All prim and proper when she was around adults, but put her with a group of boys, and her thighs opened easier than a set of swinging doors in a western movie.
Whoever had made this happen needed to be congratulated. Their choice of dancers made it worth having another birthday. Her heart might be broken by a two-timing, lying good for nothing, but her eyes were open enough to appreciate the male form in all its glory. From the hoots and yells coming from around the room, she wasn’t the only one.
“Take it all off, baby.”
That shout could only be Mildred in her continued quest to see naked men.
Ian’s long legs ate up the carpet covering the long hallway in his need to find Emma. Now that she was so close, he couldn’t bear to waste another minute. The desk clerk assured Ian that he would find her and the other ladies in the dining room celebrating their last night in Scotland.
As he neared his destination, loud music mingled with laughter and, above that, what sounded like yells of encouragement. A scream of “take it all off, baby!” carried above the other voices and was greeted with shouts of approval.
Good grief, what is going on in there? It sounds more like a strip club than a five star restaurant.
He stopped suddenly at the dining room door and caused Helmond to collide into his back.
Stunned, Ian stared at the scene before him. “Bloody hell.”
Two mostly nude males bounced and gyrated around Emma. When they sandwiched her between them, rubbing up and down every inch of her luscious body, Ian wanted to kill, his hands clenching and unclenching in a rapid staccato. He cast a glance around the table of women to determine their reaction to this debauchery.
Each and every one of them appeared to be enthralled with the scantily clad males. Some wore a dazed stare, and the look of appreciation on Sue Ann’s face as she licked her lips left nothing to the imagination. Tillie’s blue-tinted head bobbed up and down in what Ian took to be approval. The lusty Mildred was half out of her chair and appeared ready to pounce if one of the muscular men came close enough.
A loud screech of laughter brought his eyes back to Emma. How dare she laugh at such inappropriate behavior? These displays of perversion made what had happened between them during her stay at the castle seem cheap and tawdry. Had he been mistaken to consider their act lovemaking instead of animal copulation?
A red glow flared in front of his eyes as rage surged through him. Obviously, he cared far more for this mortal female than she’d ever care for him. He had come here to declare his feelings in front of all. Now, standing in front of a room full of feasting humans, he was made to appear the fool. Did his grandmother’s castoff lovers have the same sense of humiliation and despair when Aphrodite finished with them and moved on without so much as a backward thought? What of the women that Odin used in the same manner?
The anger dimmed, and Ian’s heart became a rock in his chest where a heart once beat. He had to get away from this room, this woman. Now. The past weeks had been difficult, but that ache was but a ripple on the water compared to this new pain that tore at him.
“Come, Helmond. Let us leave this place.” With dignity intact, Ian turned and stalked toward the door. Outside the view of prying eyes, he leaned against the wall and cast a glance around for his butler. Helmond was nowhere to be seen.
Exasperated, he made his way back down the hallway. Helmond stood in the doorway, his feet seeming to have taken root.
“Helmond.”
The elf made no response to hearing his name. Ian peered over his shoulder as Emma looked toward the door. For a second, their eyes locked, and all the laughter faded from her face.
“Ian.” She took a step forward.
The last thing he wanted to hear right now was why she’d left. Her excuse would probably be as flimsy as the one she’d attempted to explain about what he’d just witnessed.
Dropping a hand on Helmond’s shoulder, he tugged at the little guy, with no response. That did it. Helmond would have to fend for himself.
Ian had to get away from here. This time, his long legs stretched for the safety of the exit as cries of his name echoed behind him down the long hallway.
Chapter Fifteen
Damn Ian McCabe to hell and back. No, on second thought, forget the back part. Let the bastard rot there!
Emma sat up in bed and punched her pillow several times before flopping down. Hoteliers in Scotland seemed to think one should rest his head at night on a brick. If they didn’t insist on buying the cheap foam crap, it wouldn’t be an issue. Hadn’t they ever heard of feather pillows?
“Shit.” She gave up the battle, got out of bed, and padded barefoot to the window. Staring at the streetlight reflections on the wet street below, Emma relived the earlier dinner. It didn’t matter how the women in her group had found out about her birthday. What did matter was their attempt to bring a little laughter to ease her pain.
Who would have thought a group of silver minxes would come up with male strippers? The more she thought about whose idea it had been, she could only conclude it was the woman who dyed her hair to resemble a carrot with a personality just as extreme. Mildred.
When the two men had strutted to their dinner table, she thought for sure one of the uptight diners had complained. Their group had been a little rowdy with their naughty jokes and hoots of laughter in the stuffy environment.
Surprise was an understatement for her reaction when the bobby and fireman stripped off their uniforms. That was a “knock me over with a feather” moment.
But, it hadn’t taken long to get into the swing of things, especially with the help of several glasses of champagne, and to appreciate the well-endowed males dancing around her. Even quiet little Ethel’s eyes had lit up.
The fun helped her forget Ian McCabe for a short while—until she saw him standing in the doorway looking like he could spit fire.
Tears gathered in Emma’s eyes, and she blinked hard to keep them at bay. How dare he assume an attitude over harmless male dancers? Given what she’d witnessed between him and his precious Morgana, Emma’s birthday celebration was nothing. Typical male reaction—they could do whom they pleased and never expect to get caught with their pants down.
She’d been wrong to think Ian was different from most of the men who’d passed through her life. He was as bad, or worse, than her father. How did Mama and Grandma Edith live with husbands who put their male equipment into any box that opened for them?
Am I as weak as the other women in my family?
When Ian left for his supposed trip to London, he’d given her the impression she was his woman. His woman!
Fool, when did you come to think of yourself as his woman?
No, she wasn’t his or any other man’s. Emma Grant was not a possession. She was her own woman and intended to remain that way. Dropping the curtain, she wandered back to bed and huddled under the covers.
But look at Deena. There’s a woman who stated she didn’t want or need a man in her life, and poof…she’s gone—with a man.
Deena’s departure with Helmond had become the topic of conversation over after dinner drinks in the hotel bar.
“Can you believe the way he walked over to the table with his hand held out? She just took it and let him lead her away.” Barb’s voice still held the shock of the earlier event.
Of course, everyone had been careful not to mention Ian’s name, and several cast nervous glances Emma’s way, as if in fear she’d have a meltdown.
Good for Deena. She deserves to find happiness. Will I be in my seventies before that look of joy reflects in my eyes? Or maybe I’m destined to be alone forever.
The bed didn’t work. Unable to shut down the memories, she knew sleep would evade her tonight. She swung her legs over the side and retraced her steps to the window.
The weight of more sadness added to the pain that already crushed her heart, as Emma forced her mind to think about their morning departure. Tomorrow would be a bitch because she would be saying goodbye to her friends. How had she ever thought that this group of dynamic females should be sitting in rocking chairs watching the world go by?
Emma placed her forehead against the window pane as she lost her battle with the tears and let them flow with the rain drops pelting on the other side.
“Promise you’ll stay in touch.”
Emma hoped her ribs didn’t crack from the bone-crushing hug gentle Mary wrapped her in. For such a frail-looking woman, she had amazing strength. “I will, and that works both ways.”
Mildred pulled Emma into her arms after Mary finally let go. “Me too, dear. You know I love you. And I’d rather see you happy than get a peek under every kilt in Scotland.”
Emma smiled at the tears tracking down the wrinkles in her friend’s face, leaving trails in the layers of her foundation. There was no doubt the wild woman loved her if she’d give up checking under kilts.
“Humph. Should have given up that nonsense before we started.” Barb elbowed Mildred aside and reached in for a quick hug. “If you ever need anything, call.” A brusque pat on the back followed the brief contact before Barb looked down to examine the luggage tag on her carryon.
“She doesn’t like to show emotion, dear.” Millie kissed Emma’s cheek, cupped her chin in a frail hand, and stared into her eyes. “The pain will pass.” The blue-haired woman’s smile quivered before she bit her bottom lip. “We all do care about you and hope you’ll come to Atlanta for a visit. You know you have a place to stay with any of us.”
“Thank you. Thank all of you for making my first overseas tour one I’ll never forget. And thank you for being my friends.” She looked at each of the dear faces circled around her and fought back a rush of tears.
The women picked up their various carryons and gave another round of hugs and kisses. Watching the group wander down the concourse toward their gate left Emma feeling more alone than she’d ever felt.
The dog days of summer did nothing to improve Emma’s mood. The heat wave back in May seemed like a cool spell compared to these past two weeks. Maybe there was something to the global warming declarations the green groups kept talking about. August in Denver had gone to the dogs this year with temperatures in the triple digits for the first half of the month. Then again, maybe it was her mood.
“Hey, sunshine.” Cori’s grin greeted Emma as she wandered into the kitchen.
“Sunshine my ass.”
“Don’t kill the messenger. Just trying to put a little light into the day and change your attitude.” Cori balanced milk, cereal, and coffee and brought them to the table with the ease of a juggler. “I don’t know what happened on your tour in Scotland.” She paused to arrange her breakfast on the placemat and gave Emma a meaningful glance. “Since you won’t tell me the problem, I need to let you know what a piss-poor attitude you came home with.”
“Like you haven’t daily?” Emma knew her friend was confused about the change in her personality, but she just couldn’t deal with sharing the story yet. Each time a letter came from Deena raving about her happy life with Helmond, it ripped the wound in Emma’s heart open again. She was happy for her friend’s happiness but could read between the lines on the question not asked. What the hell happened?
Deena had been in the restaurant. She saw the look on Ian’s face and witnessed his refusal to talk to her. So maybe she didn’t know about the Morgana incident. She would share the story with one person, but not yet. She couldn’t face Cori’s looks of pity.
“Well, I have another piece of news to make your day.”
“Yeah?” Emma waited for the latest bombshell. The way things in her life were right now, the tour company leaving a message with Cori that her ass was fired wouldn’t surprise her.
“Your sister called. The delightful gal insists you call her back. She has a buyer for the old homestead.”
A “you’re fired” message would have been better. The last person she wanted to deal with was her sister. The house they’d grown up in had been a rental since their mother’s death, so why the hell had Faith suddenly gotten the bug to sell? Had that dumbass husband of hers made another stupid investment?
“Did she say what she wanted?”
“Only how important it is to hear your sweet voice. Oh, and something about you need to drag your ass to Charleston and help her clear out the attic.”
Emma walked over to the coffee pot. “Yeah, that’ll be a cold day in hell.” She filled her cup and uttered a few choice words when the dark liquid spilled over and burned her hand.
“Sorry, didn’t catch all of that.” Cori grinned.
“The way you’ve been acting lately, hell does probably have a better chance of freezing over before you go spend time with your darling sister.” This time, the bubbly blonde didn’t attempt to hold back her laughter.
“Fuck you.” Emma headed for the door.
“Bite me.” Cori gave her a one-finger salute. “Sorry, you’re not my type. And before you do your disappearing act, I have more news.”
“More news? I’m not sure I can take any more good news from you.”
Cori carried her dirty dishes to the sink, and dread coiled in Emma’s stomach. That particular smirk on her roommate’s face signaled trouble.
Beyond Magic (Magical Love Book 1) Page 13