Blitzing Emily

by Julie Brannagh

  “You borrowed my ring, you searched my closets, and you used my laptop. Wait till we get home. I’m searching on you, too. It’s on, like Donkey Kong.”

  “You could ask me questions instead,” he observed.

  “Well, that’s no fun,” she said. “Where am I going to get the dirt?”

  “I might tell you some of that, too.” He drained his glass. “Then again, maybe not. A man needs a few secrets. Speaking of secrets, I understand that Cheryl the nurse thinks I’m a horn dog.” He took a large bite of salad, and gave Emily an expectant look.

  “Aren’t you?” He choked on the salad. She patted him on the back till he stopped coughing. She reached out for the bottle of champagne and poured him another glass. “Sorry,” she teased.

  “No, you’re not,” he said.

  “How do you know that?”

  “I just do.”

  Emily couldn’t stop laughing with him. The longer they talked, the more she felt tension drain out of her. She realized with a shock that she felt safe with him, and it wasn’t just because he towered over the other guys in the restaurant.

  Their entrees arrived. The penne with chicken smelled heavenly. Brandon took a large bite. “It’s good, sugar.”

  “It is.” Emily pointed her fork at him. “Back to the horn dog stuff.”

  “Listen. I’m human. I’m a normal, healthy guy with a sex drive. Have I done things that, in retrospect, maybe I shouldn’t have? Hell, yes. There isn’t a man that hasn’t. At the same time, you don’t have to worry.” He patted her kneecap again. “I promise I will not drag you under the table, tear your clothes off, and make love to you in front of Jordan and the sommelier. Then again, it beats the hell out of the dessert menu, doesn’t it?” His smile was unrepentant. He took another bite of his lunch and washed it down with champagne. “You’re not eating.”

  Emily was feeling a little warm. Maybe it was the champagne, or maybe she was going to blush herself into a coma. The thought of getting naked with Brandon wasn’t exactly repulsive.

  “Did you always want to be a football player?”

  “Questions, questions. Do you work for ESPN?” he said, but she saw his dimple. “I wanted to be like my dad. He played football, so I played football. It helped that I fell in love with the game, too.”

  “What would you have done for a living if you didn’t do this?”

  “Interesting question.” He gave her a sly smile. “I might have been a math teacher.”

  “You’re kidding me.” He loved math? He wasn’t a geek. Then again, he’d thought that all opera singers were fat. Maybe it was time to retire some of these generalizations.

  “No. I was a math major. I have a master’s in math as well from the UW. I worked on it during the off-season for a couple of years.” He chewed for a few moments. “Damn, sugar, this stuff’s good.” Brandon scooped a bite up on his fork, and held it in front of her mouth. “Come on, I’m going to eat all of this if you don’t take a bite.”

  “Mmhmm,” was all she could get out around the mouthful of food he fed her.

  He inhaled a huge platter of pasta, all the bread, and scooped a bite off of Emily’s plate. “I’m still hungry.” He appeared to be eating her lunch, too. She wondered if he was always this hungry.

  “What are you doing?” she asked. Then again, it was kind of cute. “Oh, okay.” She shoved her plate closer to his.

  “You have to eat.” He scooped up a forkful of penne and chicken and said, “Open up.”

  “You don’t have to f—” Emily began, before her mouth was full once more.

  “C’mon. Finish this,” he said. “You’ll want dessert.”

  “You’re going to tell me about the starving children in Third World countries next, aren’t you?”

  “No. I want to make sure you’ve got food in your stomach. You’ve swallowed an awful lot of medication in the past twenty-four hours, and you had some champagne on top of it.”

  She wondered if he was like this all the time, or just with women he had a fake engagement with. Whenever Emily would convince herself again he was probably an egotistical nightmare, he’d do something sweet, and she was totally confused. Wasn’t he supposed to act like a jerk? She knew little about football players, but according to their discussions over the past twenty-four hours, he was some kind of big deal.

  Emily’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. Brandon’s rang as well.

  “‘She Works Hard for the Money’?” Emily said.

  “That assho— That jerk Greg downloaded it onto my phone. It’s the team headquarters. I have to take this one. I apologize.” He pressed the phone to his ear.

  Maybe he wouldn’t mind if she checked her messages. Amy had called four times in the past hour. Her dad called. Emily hoped her family wasn’t watching the news. Her mom must have put the word out to the family.

  “Hey, Coach. I’m having lunch with my fiancée. Yeah, I can be there. What’s going on?”

  He listened for a moment while Emily listened to Amy’s message on her voice mail. Her sister sounded a bit irritated. At that moment, a woman in a business suit approached the table.

  “Miss Hamilton, I’m Valerie Walker from the Bellevue Informer. I was wondering if you and Mr. McKenna would answer a few questions about your engagement and how you met.” She laid one hand on the edge of the table. Brandon was still listening to his caller. “I couldn’t help but notice your little moment with the ring. Very sweet. Would you be willing to pose for some photos as well?”

  “Just a second,” Brandon told the person he’d been speaking with, and glanced at Ms. Walker. “Please call my publicist.” He fumbled in his pocket with his other hand, produced his wallet, and handed her a card.

  “Let’s do this right here. It won’t take long.” She perched on the bench facing them.

  “While I appreciate your interest, Emily and I would appreciate some privacy. Please call my publicist and make an appointment.” He picked up his phone again and ignored her. “Let me take my girl home, and I’ll be right over,” he said to his caller. “Let’s go,” he said to Emily.

  The reporter leaned over the table. “That’s quite a ring, Ms. Hamilton. How about a closer look?”

  Emily dutifully held out her hand. The restaurant’s indirect lighting made the diamond sparkle like it was alive.

  “All that for one woman.” Her eyes were hard. This was the second female reporter today that had greeted the news of Brandon’s engagement with thinly veiled hostility. Emily wondered what the story was.

  Brandon frowned a bit. “She’s worth it.” He took Emily’s hand. “It was nice to meet you, Ms. Walrus.”

  “Walker,” she corrected him.

  “Ms. Walker.” Brandon tugged Emily out of the booth. She grabbed her purse. He handed a credit card to a passing server and said, “Please bring our bill to the hostess desk, I’ll sign the slip there.” He seemed to be intent on putting as much space between them and the reporter as quickly as possible.

  “Don’t you want to talk with her?” Emily asked, as they hurried away.

  “Not really.” He shook his head. “Who was on your voice mail?”

  “My sister is a little upset.”

  “Sounds like it. Listen, sugar, I’ll give you a rain check on that dessert I offered. I have to go to a team meeting this afternoon. Let’s see how fast we can get out of here.”

  FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Brandon and Emily were in Brandon’s Land Rover and heading toward 520, one of the floating bridges between Seattle and its Eastside. Brandon’s phone rang again. “It’s my mama,” he sighed.

  He adored his mother. He loved his dad. At the same time, he’d ducked her calls all day. He needed to figure out how he was going to explain what had happened, but it looked like there was no time like the present.

  He clicked the hands free device on his car’s dashboard and said, “Hey, Mama. I know I was supposed to call you. I apologize. How’s my best girl?”

  “Brandon Jame
s McKenna, that sweet talking might work on all those girls up there, but it doesn’t work on me. You are in big, big trouble, young man. You’re engaged, and your daddy and I found this out from a sports reporter. They’ve been calling here all morning. That woman from Entertainment Tonight asked me for an exclusive.”

  “I know. I apologize. I didn’t realize they were going to announce—”

  “You’re going to have to try this on someone who might believe it. Since when do you get engaged to a woman we didn’t know you were dating?” Brandon’s mama didn’t yell. She used much more lethal tactics, like guilt. It was hard to believe that Mama could still make a grown man want to hide somewhere till she settled down, but this was one of those times. “Emily Hamilton sang here last year, honey. How many times have I invited you when your daddy was out of town, and you told me you’d rather be dragged buck naked over broken glass than go to the opera?” His mother finally took a breath. “Does she know this?”

  “Mama. I’m sorry.” He didn’t dare glance over to see the expression on Emily’s face at that moment.

  His mother’s voice softened. “I know there’s another story here, and you will tell me what it is.” He braced himself for incoming. He spent the last thirty-four years knowing that his mama left the best for last. “You are not having a baby, are you? Please tell me you didn’t get that young lady pregnant. What will her parents say?”

  Oh, there it was.

  “Mama. You taught me better than that,” he cajoled. He glanced over at Emily, who was stifling laughter. She’d heard every word. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He went to hit a bucket of balls with Dylan. He says he can’t believe you’d consider getting married without bringing Emily home to meet us. Honey, I’m so disappointed in you. I’ve waited so long for this, and—”

  “Mama. Mama. I promise I will not marry anyone you haven’t met yet.” Emily was now smothering laughter with both hands. If this had been happening to anyone else, it would probably be funny, but right now, he’d appreciate a little support. He could only deal with one woman at a time, though, so that discussion would happen later.

  “When are we going to meet her? We want to meet her mama and daddy, too. They’ll be our family, honey. It’s important.” He took the exit to Emily’s place and resisted the impulse to floor it.

  “I know, Mama. Of course she wants to meet you, too. She has performances in Seattle, and then she’s going out of town for several weeks. I’ll ask her when it will work to get everyone together, and we’ll do it.” He pulled into Emily’s driveway. “I need to scoot. Let me call you back when I’m in the car again.”

  “Okay. Do not think I’m going to forget about this, young man.”

  “I know you won’t. Tell Dad and Dylan I said hey.”

  “I will, honey. I love you.”

  “Love you too.” He hung up his phone. Emily was already climbing the steps to her front door, and he hurried after her.

  “So, your mom was on a tear. Welcome to my world,” she said.

  “Oh, yeah. She’s probably taking away my allowance.” Emily opened the front door, and they trooped inside. “I’d love to chat about this, but I’m going to be late. We can talk later if you’d like.”

  The look on Emily’s face was comical. “Our parents think I’m pregnant. This should be interesting.”

  Suddenly, everything was a little awkward. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he certainly wasn’t sure what was appropriate. She wore his ring, but she wasn’t his. She put her purse down on the hall table and shuffled around a little. She bit her lip and a flush moved over her cheekbones. He watched the previously smiling and relaxed Emily retreat behind a wall of uneasiness. She folded her arms in front of her.

  “Thank you for taking me out to lunch, and for the beautiful ring. I could have worn my ring, you know.”

  No, she couldn’t have. Everyone would expect her to have an engagement ring someone pulling down over twenty million dollars a year could afford to buy for her. He pulled the small silver circlet of hearts out of his jeans pocket, and put it back on the middle finger of her left hand. “You’ll still wear it.” He held her hand in both of his. She didn’t pull away.

  She took a deep breath, and tipped her face up. Her golden eyes searched his. “Do you really think this is going to work? I—I’m just not sure.”

  “We’ll be fine.” He leaned down, planted a kiss on her forehead, and told her, “I’ll see you later.” He felt her smaller hand gripping his.

  “I’m okay. I—I’ll understand if you have something else going, if you’re meeting up with someone or have an appointment. I know this was sudden. You have a life you might want to get back to.”

  “We can cross some more stuff off your list. We’ll have dinner or something.”

  He didn’t want to leave. He turned, though, and hurried out the front door.

  Chapter Seven

  * * *

  DESPITE A SEVERAL-PAGES-LONG to-do list, it was apparent to Emily the best thing she could do was rest. She made it up the stairs to her room and flopped onto her bed. The unpacking would have to wait. Again. She was running out of clean underwear, but that was the least of her problems right now.

  A short time later she heard the scrape of a key inserted into the lock on her front door, and Amy’s voice echoed from downstairs.

  “Hey, weirdo. Where are you?”

  Emily tried to call out, “I’m up here,” but anything above a normal tone of voice brought additional waves of pain. She heard Amy’s light footsteps on the staircase. Hopefully, she’d figure it out for herself.

  “There you are,” Amy said. She flipped on the overhead light, which could be seen from space. Emily threw her left forearm over her eyes. She was a few seconds too late. She let out a groan.

  “Don’t. I have a splitting headache.”

  Her sister rushed across the room. “What in the hell is on your hand? Oh, my God,” she cried out.

  “Please be quiet,” Emily pleaded. “My head . . .”

  Amy grabbed Emily’s left hand and bent over it.

  “Have you been watching the shopping channels again? That is the biggest ring I’ve ever seen in my life. It can’t be real. Let me see it.” It occurred to Emily to make the point that her sister was already looking at it, but she couldn’t muster the strength for snark right now.

  “Go ahead.” Emily pulled the ring off and held it out to her sister.

  “Don’t you have something you might want to tell me?”

  “What?” Emily stalled. She watched her sister examine the inside of the band through half-opened eyes. She wondered if she should offer Amy twenty bucks to shut off that damn overhead light.

  “This is from Tiffany’s. Did you find it on the street?”

  “Brandon gave it to me.”

  Amy’s sharp intake of breath drained half the oxygen in the room. “Get out,” she sputtered. “Why would he give you a ring the size of—of—it’s huge. Mom said she saw something about your being engaged on the news this morning. How did this happen?”

  “Amy, my head’s going to explode. Please shut off that light, too.”

  Amy was never, ever going to buy this. Emily had no other option than to tell her the truth.

  “How can you marry someone you don’t know?” Amy said.

  “Take it easy,” Emily said. “If you’ll sit down for a minute, I’ll tell you what happened.”

  “Mom and Dad are going to flip out.”

  “Mom already has. Didn’t you say you liked him?”

  “I said he was cute. I didn’t tell you to marry him,” Amy said. She paced from the bedside to the window in the now-dimly lit room. “You can’t marry someone you’ve known for twenty-four hours. How did this happen?”

  “Try the ring on,” Emily said.

  Amy jammed the ring onto her finger. “This is the biggest freaking ring I have ever seen.” She moved her hand around in the light from the small lamp at Emily’s bedside.
The diamonds shot prisms of blue fire onto the walls of the room. “He must have told them he wanted the biggest one they had.”

  Maybe it was better Amy didn’t know that was exactly what Brandon did. Emily pushed herself up on the pillows.

  “Did you know that Tiffany’s wraps the little box up in wrapping paper, but they don’t use tape? When you take the bow off, the paper springs open, and there’s a little blue suede ring box,” she said dreamily.

  Amy gave her a disbelieving look as if she couldn’t believe her sister had turned into such a sap. She handed the ring back to Emily, and sat down next to her on the bed. “So, are you going to tell me how this happened?”

  “Here’s the short version. When I had to go to the hospital yesterday, the nurse was joking around, and called me his fiancée in front of a large group of sports fans.”

  “And they believed it.”

  “He thought it was funny. I don’t know if he said anything at the time, but then he started getting calls about it early this morning.”

  Emily crossed her ankles and stuffed another pillow behind her back.

  “Why didn’t you tell them it wasn’t true?” Amy asked.

  She fidgeted a little. “I had five booking requests this morning.”

  A speculative light came into her sister’s eyes. “Really? That’s great, Em.”

  “There’s one more thing. James called.”

  Amy reached out for Emily’s hand. “That bastard. What did he want?”

  Emily felt a lump form in her throat.

  “He wanted to congratulate me. He said that he and Heather are happy for me. He wants to let go of the bitterness. After all, we can be friends.”

  A flush climbed up Amy’s neck and spread over her face. Her eyes glittered with anger. “What an asshole.” She shook her head.

  “I hung up on him. I can’t believe he had the gall to call me, Amy. ‘Friends’? Not in this lifetime.”

  “What did Brandon do?”

  “He has his own set of reasons why it’s good for us to be engaged right now.”

  A smirk curved her sister’s lips. “Let me guess. His ex-girlfriend won’t get off his back.”