by Nina Bocci
He nodded, scooping up more noodles and veggies.
“Yes, all of that. I wasn’t sure you would have been willing to overlook it in order to help me win. Our past has been . . . not the best.”
I thought about that for a moment. Laying the chopsticks on the bowl, I looked up and folded my hands under my chin. “You know, I can separate my feelings for a person from my feelings about the job he would do, right? Cooper, I do believe you’re the far better choice.”
He looked relieved, a small smile tipping up his lips. “Thank you. I know I’m a pain in the ass, but—”
“Wait, what? Hold on, let me grab my phone to record this,” I joked. I pretended to push the record button on an imaginary phone. “Repeat that exactly as you said it. I’m going to use it as my ringtone.”
“Yeah, yeah, you know what I mean.”
We sat in silence, both of us focused on eating. There was so much to talk about, but just sitting and relaxing was nice for a change. I had forgotten, or ignored, how nice it was to just be with Cooper without being engrossed in an argument.
“About what happened yesterday,” he began finally, staring at his nearly empty bowl.
“Yes?” I choked out. We were now entering uncharted territory.
Would he apologize? Make a joke? Both? What did I want him to say?
“I hope you know that I took your comments the other day seriously, and I don’t want you to think that I was throwing it all back in your face by kissing you.”
That is not what I expected.
“What do you mean?”
Shifting in his seat, he folded his hands on the table, looking forlorn. “I didn’t mean to do it. I want you to know that I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
I could see that he was beating himself up about it. Knowing Cooper, he probably thought that I was going to berate him.
“Looking back on it, I was so pumped up and excited from the speech that I got—I don’t know. I got carried away, and I’m sorry.”
“Cooper, it’s okay. I’m not mad. I mean, I wasn’t mad that it happened. It was an accident.”
I said the word, but I was having a hard time believing that was what it actually had been. For me, at least.
His breath left him in a whoosh. “Oh, thank God. I thought you were going to quit on me.”
I frowned. “One kiss isn’t going to change my mind about helping, Cooper.”
He looked relieved, smiling for the briefest of seconds before his eyes flickered down to my lips. “I’m glad. Total accident.”
“Accidents happen. It’s why they’re called accidents.” I laughed, but it sounded awkward and shrill. Why? I should have felt relieved, not . . . whatever this was that was happening in my stomach.
Not butterflies. Nope.
And even if they were, Cooper had just apologized for kissing me. So there was nothing more to discuss.
It was high time to derail this conversation. “Have you thought any more about the point we discussed the other day? Finding someone to, you know—” I asked.
Cooper sighed, looking down to stare at his soup. After a few seconds, he slowly nodded. I didn’t expect it or the feelings of disappointment that blossomed from his simple affirmative head dip. Clearly I was coming down with something other than pinkeye.
“I reached out to someone after we talked the other day,” he said quietly.
Something set my teeth on edge. Then my mouth let loose the one question I had promised myself I wouldn’t ask after our conversation about my not overstepping his limits. “Do I know her?”
He swallowed a gulp of water, and after a few seconds he nodded, offering nothing else.
Do I ask? Do I want to know? Do I need to know?
No.
No (Yes).
No (YES).
It was like I knew the answer before he even said it. “Whitney.”
My stomach lurched and dipped.
It suddenly all made sense. Why had she been in Borough Building that early morning a couple weeks ago? He had been considering her all along. Silly me.
Quietly I sat staring down at my lap. There was an unsettling feeling in my chest. When it moved down to my stomach, it rolled. If I were being honest—if he had given me free rein with his black book—I would probably have chosen her, too. Her parents were wealthy, her family had a political legacy like the Campbells’, she was stunning . . .
She was perfect for this. For him.
But that didn’t mean I had to like it.
“I saw her, you know, in my dad’s office the other day,” I said, biting the inside of my cheek.
“We see each other a few times a year. She moved back to Barreton a few months ago. She stopped in to say hi. She’s come up to town a couple times since. It makes sense.”
They saw each other. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what that meant.
“Good, good.” I coughed. “She’s perfect for what you need.”
He bristled. “She’s not a couch that I’m buying.”
I scoffed. “You know what I mean. She’s the perfect Jackie to your JFK.”
I laughed, but it sounded manic instead of jovial, as I’d intended. “She should come to an event soon. Or whatever.” I stood quickly, and my chair toppled back, clattering to the floor. “I’ll grab that later,” I blurted out, picking up my dishes and walking hurriedly to the kitchen. “I’m done. You done?”
After a few minutes, Cooper joined me in the kitchen. I had already packed the extras into two containers for him to take home.
“You should keep these. After all, I got it for you,” he said, looking concerned.
“It’s okay, I have dinner with my parents tomorrow.”
I don’t.
“And a date the night after.”
Lies, lies, all lies.
“It’ll just go to waste,” I explained, pushing the containers at him. He placed his hands over mine. Did he feel their clamminess? Why is clammy such an awful word?
EMMA THOUGHT: Why are you having a meltdown? Why are you unable to function normally around Cooper all of a sudden?
“Oh, you need a bag. I’ll get it,” I said quickly.
Cooper wouldn’t let go of my hands. “I get the feeling that you’re trying to get rid of me all of a sudden.”
I huffed, trying to blow it off, but he couldn’t be more right. The unsettled feeling in my stomach was growing.
“Is this going to be weird?” he asked, running his fingers through his hair. “I know you and Whitney haven’t talked in a while.” He leaned against the counter.
In a while = ages.
“Not weird at all. No weirdness.”
“Something tells me that’s not true. Are you still mad about everything?”
Was I?
“I don’t know,” I said honestly. “We never talked about it. About her and you and you guys as a couple. After you started dating her in college we just stopped talking, and—”
“And what?”
“It hurt. A lot. Losing a friend like that.”
He frowned, reaching out for a second before pulling back. “I’m sorry you stopped being friends with her on account of me.”
“What?”
“What do you mean, what?” he said, stepping back.
“Cooper, I wasn’t upset about Whitney. I knew her for a few months. I knew you my whole life, and you suddenly ignored me because you were dating her. Do you know how awful that was?”
Feeling foolish, I turned to grab a bag from under my sink. I stacked the containers inside and tied it in a knot, annoyed that my hands were trembling slightly. Last time I’d spoken with Whitney had been at graduation, and we hadn’t exactly been kind to each other. I knew that when I saw her again, with Cooper, someone would be swallowing her pride and having to put her big-girl pants on.
“Emma, it wasn’t like that, but I am sorry. I don’t know what to say other than that I’m sorry you felt that way.”
“You never got
it!” I exclaimed, standing at the counter and staring at the wall.
“Got what?”
I shook my head, grateful that he couldn’t see my face and the tears welling in my eyes. “The three of you left me. For years. Starting college was hard enough, and I had no one to turn to because you guys—everyone went their separate ways. Just when I thought I’d at least have you there. You left me again.”
“For Whitney,” he finished, touching my shoulder.
There was a comfort there that I hadn’t expected to feel. Cooper’s hand shook slightly just before he squeezed. “I’m sorry, Emma. It’s not what you think . . . I never realized . . .” He was having a hard time stringing sentences together. “I was a stupid kid who did stupid things.”
Wiping away a tear that had escaped, I nodded. “It’s fine,” I choked out. Those feelings from years ago had surged back so suddenly, I couldn’t quite get ahold of them. The nervousness, sadness, loneliness—all of it from being solo in a new city with none of my friends there for support. “I’ll be right back,” I said, scurrying out of the kitchen.
I leaned against the hallway wall, taking a few deep breaths to compose myself. Neither one of us was the same person as we had been back in college. It wasn’t fair for me to hold those feelings over his head—feelings that he had no idea I’d had.
When I returned, I expected Cooper to be in the same spot, but he wasn’t. He was about to turn on the faucet and squeeze soap into the sink.
“Leave it, I can do the dishes later,” I insisted, trying to bump him out of the way.
Cooper’s hands were already in the deep, warm water. When my hip hit his, his hands splashed water across the counter, where some of my work files were sitting.
“Damn it,” I cursed, grabbing the papers quickly, but they were already covered in big wet splotches. I spread them out on the opposite counter, peeling apart each of the sheets.
Cooper dried his hands and came over to help. “What’s all this?” he asked. I looked up at him to see him eyeing the project projections I’d been working on before he’d arrived. He started reading them, skimming over the sheets quickly before I could take them back.
“Nothing, nothing. Just something that Nancy and I have been trying to put together.”
His jaw ticked as his eyes moved over the pages. “This is the Jackson account, Emmanuelle. My Jackson account.”
16
* * *
Cooper, there’s a perfectly good explanation for this,” I began. Though the company had approached me, not the other way around, he was right. I should’ve told him instead of hiding it from him.
“Is this why you wanted me to take a leave from the CDO? You pushed me out because you didn’t want me to hear about this?”
He slumped against the counter, the papers hanging at his sides. “I can’t believe you’re trying to bring this back after what happened to me last time.”
To me. Typical. My feelings of nostalgia went away as quickly as they’d come.
“I understand that you’re having some feelings about this.”
“Double-crossed is a feeling, yes. Why wouldn’t you tell me about this? Or at least ask me if it was okay to reopen the deal?”
I rolled my eyes. “Cooper, please stop being dramatic. You’re on leave from the office, and you weren’t exactly Mr. Present when you were there. I haven’t been able to run a ton of stuff by you because you haven’t been around. Besides, I didn’t do anything to you. The Jacksons reached out to me about renegotiating, and I figured it was worth a shot. I wasn’t trying to go behind your back or hide it from you. I just wanted to keep a lid on it until I knew what their interest was,” I said honestly, continuing to separate the papers that were dripping wet. Thank God these were just printouts that I’d been scribbling on. Printing new ones would have to wait until I got back to the office.
“They’re coming in this week,” I offered, reaching out to pry the projection sheet from his fist.
Cooper’s posture was loosening up, but he was still annoyed. His lips were pressed thin, and his brows were knitted together. “I just don’t know what to say. I can’t believe I didn’t know about this.”
“There isn’t anything to say, Cooper. I’m taking advantage of an opportunity that I was presented with.”
His blue eyes showed the hurt he was feeling. I didn’t like that I’d made him feel badly, but I was also smart enough to realize that if the roles had been reversed . . .
“Cooper, you’d have done the same thing if given the chance,” I told him, showing him a few of the dry sheets. “You know that it’s true. If I’d had the same history with a company and been out for a few months, you’d look at it as an opportunity for the CDO and go for it. I would have understood, and now I’m asking you to do the same. Besides, this isn’t about me. The town needs this business.”
Cooper quietly flipped through the pages of the research that I’d saved from his compilation six years before, along with the updated sheets Nancy and I had put together.
“It wasn’t our time then. You were still figuring out what direction to go in, and the council wasn’t totally on board,” I said. “And—”
“What I did was the problem, too. Just say it.”
“I don’t have to say it. We both know it had everything to do with the deal falling through.”
“And in the end it blew up in our faces.” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it. I’m still irked, but I see why you didn’t tell me.”
“I don’t know if you know or not, but Mr. Jackson suffered a massive stroke a couple years ago. He’s doing better now, but the company was thrown into a tailspin just after it happened. His children had to gain a controlling stake in the company to get away from, well, Haley. They’re the ones who reached out.”
He nodded. I didn’t have to go into more detail, but it didn’t feel right keeping this quiet now. If he lost the election and came back to the office, he’d have to know what we were dealing with. So I launched into my spiel.
“I’m redoing aspects of the first presentation, including how recent town developments make Hope Lake an even better fit for the business now than it was then. The CDO is stronger than ever, and with the support of the mayor’s office, the support of the town council should follow suit. And I decided that if they say no again, even with all of the changes, I would close the chapter in this book. If it works, though, it’ll be an amazing opportunity for Hope Lake.”
“What made the family change their mind and come back?” he asked, holding the latest photo of their board. “They weren’t exactly big fans last time.”
“Mr. Jackson wasn’t a fan of some things. I think it was because the idea of seeing the business he built from scratch being taken over by someone else—someone who had very different ideas from his—scared him. But since his children have taken over, they’ve made some bold moves in revamping the whole JOE brand. New president, new branding, new pitch—maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Wordlessly Cooper moved on to the updated metrics that I’d been putting together in whatever free time I had, which wasn’t much. Between helping his election, working, and training Nancy to take over his job, it had mostly been done over a glass of wine at midnight.
He didn’t say anything as he scanned the numbers. No questions, comments, or even a facial expression to help me glean what he was thinking. I couldn’t take the silence anymore.
“Cooper, look at this from a mayoral perspective. Think about the optics for the office. With Kirby coming at you left and right, we need this. And if this works out, I promise I’ll say you had a hand in it—after all, this was your idea first, and the voters should know that.”
“Okay, I get it. You’re right.”
“What?”
“I said you’re right. Don’t gloat.” He smirked. “You’re on a roll. That’s twice in one day.”
“Twice in one day?” I asked, feeling a slight ripple through my veins.
As i
f sensing my unease, he stepped forward. A small spark ignited behind his blue eyes, and for a second, the old Cooper was back. The one he had apologized for earlier. “Twice in one day,” he repeated.
“Good,” I said, satisfied. “I’m glad.”
He snorted, putting down the paper and scooping up his bag of leftovers. “You always have to have the last word.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I do not.”
“See what I mean?” he said, shaking his head.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
But I did.
“Everything doesn’t have to be one-upmanship, you know. You can quit while you’re ahead,” he said. “I said you’re right. I’m dropping it.”
“Okay.” I stepped out into the living area.
He followed, hot on my heels. “Fine.”
“Stop it. You’re doing it now,” I snapped. Turning quickly, I ran into him.
He caught me by the arms, steadying me on my feet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said in a falsetto, throwing my words back at me.
Cooper squeezed my elbow, and I became aware of how close we were standing. I could feel his breath, the heat from his hands through my shirt, and there was that tingle again. If he leaned down just a smidge . . .
The thought caught me off guard, and my breathing stuttered. “This is ridiculous,” I huffed, stepping back and trying to clear my head. “You enjoy baiting me.”
“Me? Oh, please. You enjoy being tough on me, Emmanuelle. I swear you get off on it.”
“I beg your pardon?” I lunged at him to slap his arm, but he sidestepped me, catching me in a sort of backward hug with his hands wrapped around mine. “Let me go!” My voice sounded weak in my ears. Not from fear but because deep down, I wasn’t sure I wanted him to.
“Say please,” he taunted.
“Get bent,” I barked, shimmying to try to loosen his grasp.
“Apparently not,” he whispered, his lips grazing my ear ever so slightly.
I halfheartedly tugged my arms from his grasp, but his hands wrapped around mine, keeping us close. “That promise of yours didn’t last very long.”