"Over there with Steve and Carrie by the hall door," answered her friend.
They were squeezing themselves in that direction now, until Norma bumped the elbow of one of her guests. "Oh, I'm sorry, Colin."
"Not at all." He steadied his arm — one clad in a brown corduroy jacket — along with the punch cup in his hand.
At the sound of his name, and the sound of his voice, Em had momentarily frozen. Colin Ferris was standing a couple of feet in front of her. At a party. With people.
"Emma, you know Colin, right? Of course you do, what am I thinking?" Norma smacked her forehead dramatically. "You two were 'The Harriet Project.' Anyway, this is Louisa and Rodrigo, my audio book voice and my proofreader."
Em said she was happy to meet them. She smiled politely and shook hands, murmuring a compliment or two for their work, as Norma’s attention was claimed by another guest with a question that was business-related. Then Emma turned to Colin.
"How are you?" She forced a smile into place. Her lips trembled at the edges, as if she were nervous — why on earth was she nervous?
"I'm fine," he said. "And you?"
"Same as always," she said, with a shrug.
"Good." He sounded slightly nervous, too, she noticed.
"So ... Doctor Colin Ferris at a party," said Em. "And I thought you had no friends in Seattle."
"I, um, made some," he answered. "Norma is one of Catherine's clients, you see. And there are a few people from the university's psychology department here also. That's why I'm here — she cited one of my papers."
"Did she? I didn't know," answered Em, softly.
"Not the one I told you about," he said. "An older one."
"Don't you just love his book?" Louisa piped up now. "I read it twice. If I met a guy anything like that, I would marry him in a heartbeat."
"It would be hard to say 'no,' if he proposed," Em answered, politely. Her heart was beating strangely fast.
"I haven't read it," said Roderigo, sounding slightly bored. "But everybody I know is talking about it. Especially women."
"It's a good book," said Em. "A great book. I would recommend it. But you have to take your time reading it, if you want to really understand what it's trying to say." She was looking at Roderigo, then at the buffet, then something over Colin's shoulder — anything to avoid his face, because her self-control felt rattled. She felt her cheeks growing hot with the awareness that Colin was looking at her.
"Would you excuse me?" She set her punch glass on the table and turned away from them, pushing her way gently through the crowd.
Ahead, glass patio doors leading out onto Norma's balcony. They were slightly ajar, so Em slid one open and slipped outside. The air was cool, a sharp breeze against her bare arms, ruffling the skirt of her pink party dress. She rested her hands on the rail, above Norma's boxes of chrysanthemums.
What was wrong with her? Was it the surprise of seeing Colin? If so, this was a ridiculous reaction. Maybe there was something in Norma's punch — maybe one of her guests had spiked it too generously or something.
She was taking a deep breath of fresh air to clear her head when she heard the patio door slide open again. It was Colin, she thought. She didn't turn around at first, taking another deep breath before looking over her shoulder to see him standing there.
"Are you all right?" he asked.
"Yes. I'm fine." She turned around now. "I think the crowd in the room was a little too much. It's getting stuffy in there."
"It is," he agreed. He didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, Em noticed. He slid them into his pockets.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you," he said.
"Months," she answered.
"I heard about you and Frank."
"Did you?" she asked, uncomfortably.
"I'm sorry. When I told you ... I didn't intend it to break apart your relationship."
She shook her head. "You were right, I guess. I wasn't fine with being his ghost writer. Or with Janet in the picture." Her smile was wry, but not truly bitter. He deserved to know he was right, she decided. In a way, she was glad to know he hadn't gone on believing her blind to Frank's faults.
"I'm sorry," he repeated, gently.
"You don't have to keep saying it, Colin."
"But I would like to. I was hoping that if we met again, we'd meet as friends. I didn't want you to think of me the way you did the last time we spoke."
"I don't," Em answered. "I'm sorry if that's what you've believed all this time."
"I've been trying harder," he said. "Your words about being open have made me think it's time I reached out and tried something new. Perhaps even make a transition from being a therapist on paper, to being one in person. The way we were with Harriet, that is."
"You were really good with her," said Em. "I think maybe she owes more of her success to you than to me."
"Hardly." He smiled, faintly. "You were the better listener."
"But you were the one who really understood her."
They could argue about this all night, Em thought. It certainly took the tension out of meeting again. The awkward pauses which had vanished during these remarks were now returning again.
"We seem to be friends now," he ventured. "If so, I'm glad. I would like that. Being your friend."
"So would I." She nodded.
"Who knows," he said, studying the balcony's concrete, "we might become good friends, in time. If we see more of each other, that is."
"Why not?" Em answered. Her voice sounded hollow.
He met her gaze, but there was something in his eyes which hurt Emma, and made her knees weaken at the same time. She realized that tears were stinging the edges of her eyes, slowly gathering even as she blinked fiercely. What was the matter with her?
Colin held out his hand. "Friends?" he asked.
"Friends." She took hold of it. They weren't shaking hands, although their fingers held onto each other. His hand was trembling. Em's felt cold. It was because of the weather, she thought.
"It's cold out here," he said, echoing her thoughts. "You should go inside."
"I'm fine," she answered, after a moment's pause to find her voice.
"Take my coat, then," he offered, moving to shrug it off.
"No, no — I'm fine," she answered. "You keep it." She might lose her self-possession if she felt his coat around her shoulders. Because Emma knew that it wasn't friendship she was feeling for Colin. It was more than a mere attraction, and anything more would drive her from calm to unpredictability.
"Are you coming inside?" he asked, after a pause.
She nodded. "In a moment. Don't worry about me." She turned away, as if admiring the view of the city. Calm, Em. Be calm. Don't say or do anything crazy — what on earth would he think of you?
"Then ... I suppose I'll see you there." He was going inside, she knew. He turned towards the patio doors. He took two steps in that direction, then stopped and turned around again.
"Emma, please —" That was as far as he got before his helpless tone dissolved. That tone, the thread of hopefulness and pain in it, was too much for her. Without a second thought, without rational hesitation, Em turned and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Colin's neck as she kissed him. Hard.
He would be startled and pull away from her. He would be shocked by this sudden move, she told herself. But as Colin slid his arms around her and kissed her back, she felt no surprise in response. Nothing but the thrill of complete satisfaction.
He pulled away from her, gently. "How did you know?" he asked.
"I read your book," she answered. She laid her cheek against his own as his arms held her tightly.
Chapter Twenty-Four
"I thought you would despise me after what I said about Frank," confessed Colin. "It wasn't the most chivalrous move on my part. Being petty about a professional rival's actions, I mean. But I couldn't help saying it at that moment."
They were sitting together at the first place
that came to mind when they left Norma's party — a sudden, silent departure that needed no words of agreement from either of them. Now, at a corner table at Harriet's former hangout, they were reliving their past connection in all its imperfection.
"I always wondered why Frank disliked you so," said Em. "How did you know about his feelings for Janet?"
"I saw them together. At a restaurant, a week or so after the debate. His ... gestures ... towards her weren't those of a friend, let's say."
Em rested her cheek on her hand and sighed. "I never realized it, you know. I was completely blind."
"You trusted him," Colin answered. "And he took advantage of it. He's certainly not the first to treat someone that way."
"He was jealous of your success," said Em. "I thought he was just making fun of it because it was so different from his taste in self-help theories...but he really was jealous."
"Who knows? Maybe he thought of me as a romantic rival already," suggested Colin.
Em laughed. "Believe me, he didn't," she answered. "I'm afraid I said some really dreadful things about you to him. I thought you were cold, rude, boorish —"
"I was," he answered. "Towards you, and a great many other people, whenever I felt uncomfortable. My failure to live up to my own philosophy, if you will."
"Yes, but it wasn't as if you really felt that way about them, or about me," said Em. "I let you get the best of me, and lost my temper — and I never let anyone do that. Ever."
"What a novel opening for a relationship," answered Colin, dryly. "I can tell people 'I brought out the worst in her. That's how we knew we were meant to be.'"
Emma laughed — this time, for a new facet of Colin's character, a sense of humor she hadn't before detected. There was so much they hadn't learned about each other yet. It should frighten her, yet it didn't. She knew the most important things about him already, his deepest thoughts and fears, his hidden strengths and talents. He had seen her uglier side, and her moments of honesty. The rest was simply the missing pieces to finish the pictures they had half-assembled in the past.
"You also brought out the good side," she reminded him. "We bring out the best in each other, too. That's what all couples should do."
"Sadly, I think you mostly saw the worst side of me," he reminded her. "But it helped me that you did. You were the one who suggested I learn to control the ... the less likeable version of myself, and use its honest approach to my advantage in turn."
"There was nothing wrong with who you were," said Em, "except that you were so afraid of other people's opinions of you. You were so stiff and uncomfortable — you must have been terribly lonely, you kept so many people away with those barbs."
"Not you, though," he said. "And not Harriet, strangely enough."
"That's because she saw the real you," said Emma. "The night you were her rescuer after Elton and her friends had been ignoring her in this place."
His brow furrowed. "How did you know about that?" he asked. "Did she tell you?"
"I know because I was here. I saw and heard the whole thing. That's what changed my opinion of you a little back then. I watched you, from over in that corner —" Em pointed in the direction of the shadowy table near the bar, then paused as the bar's crowd cleared and she caught sight of a couple seated a table away from it. It was Harriet and Bobby, sitting close together and laughing.
"Look at them," said Emma, smiling with surprise. Colin had seen them too, a smile tugging at his own lips. It was evident from their glances, the way their hands touched every few minutes, that Harriet and Bobby were more than friends. She could see Harriet's blushing smile, and the way Bobby couldn't tear his eyes away from her for more than a second's time.
Harriet caught a glimpse of Em and Colin. She recognized them, waving to them, energetically. So did Bobby, his broad grin far happier than the shy one Em remembered from meeting him before.
She exchanged glances with Colin, seeing the same surprise on his face. They both laughed.
"Bobby finally found his courage," said Em.
"And Harriet found happiness," said Colin. "And on her own, without any help from her would-be love counselors." He met Em's eye. "It looks as if you were right about her."
"We were right about her," Em corrected. "We were partners on that project, remember?" Reaching across, she touched his hand, feeling his fingers interlace with her own. When he leaned towards her, she met his lips halfway, kissing him tenderly in return.
"Now what?" he asked, softly.
"I think it’s the official start of our second project together," she answered. "Only this one will be a little more personal, a long-term arrangement. If you don't mind working closely with me again, Doctor Ferris."
"It would be my pleasure," he answered, kissing her again.
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