by Smith, L. T.
Chapter Four
The next day started pretty much the same as the previous day, except for the voice of my sister inside my head trilling, “It wouldn’t hurt for you to get better acquainted with Ms Carson in the process, would it?” I would have liked to say “no, it wouldn’t”, but I didn’t want to take any chances, didn’t want to put myself out there and risk a rebuff. Anyway, it was true what I’d said to Abbie. The relationship between Emily and me was purely to do with Charlie. It had taken me five years to even consider letting another inside my heart again, and there was no room for anything else—especially not my rival.
We took Charlie for another walk, which had to be no longer than forty-five minutes because his leg was still mending. Conversation was light between us, mainly sticking to things that were non-committal or impersonal. The weather—us Brits can talk about the weather for hours and never get bored, the up and coming Olympics, even the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee were subjects of our ramblings. Of course there were times when I wanted to ask her more about herself, but a small part of me was scared I would become too interested in her. I know. I’m weird.
Charlie was full of beans and treated us both to his licks and his excitement. Watching him with Emily made me long for something more than what I had. The concept was elusive, but the feeling was strangely profound. It seemed so right to be walking through the woods on a cold January day with a beautiful woman and a gorgeous dog. The sound of our feet crunching through the leaves was comforting, almost familiar.
We played a while with Charlie upon our return, throwing the ball and watching him skitter all over the yard trying to fetch it and bring it back. It was funny to see him trying to decide who to give it to, but he was very much the gentleman and made sure we both got our turns.
This time, it was harder to leave him. It hurt more to put him back in his kennel and say, “See you tomorrow, little chap.” But it had to be done.
When I pulled up outside Emily’s house, I expected her to jump out and race off to the DIY centre, but she just stood there looking uncomfortable. Was she trying to come up with some way to tell me she didn’t think our arrangement was working? That she’d thought it through and she wanted Charlie all to herself? A sinking feeling hit my gut. She wouldn’t, would she?
“I was… I was thinking.”
Yes, she was. She was going to freeze me out and take the furry lad for her own. A wave of adrenaline rushed through me and I was on the verge of telling her to shove it, when she finally continued.
“Have you had lunch?”
Had I had lunch?
“I, erm, have lunch here.”
Good for you.
“And was wondering if you would like to, erm, share it.”
Share her lunch? Why? I had a perfectly good lunch waiting for me back at work, so why would I want—
Clink. That was the sound of the penny dropping from a great height. It’s a pity it didn’t thwack me on the head as it passed.
“Never mind. I know how busy you are.”
“No!” My explosive response was rather loud and eager sounding, but that was okay with me.
She nodded, and I detected some sort of dejection in the movement.
“No!” Okay. It was fine the first time, but now she was thinking her “lunch” idea was a no go. “I mean, yes!” Back to being a yes woman. “I mean— Aw, fuck it. I’d love to.”
Finally! A response! There was hope for morons like me, after all, especially as I was rewarded with the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen. “I forgot my lunch this morning, so that would be wonderful.” Why did I have to say that? She didn’t want my fucking life story, even if it was a made up one.
“Great.”
That smile again, sending a wonderful sensation rippling through my chest.
“I’ll let you get parked while I get started on lunch.” She turned away from me as if she was moving in slow motion. Strands of her hair separated and fluttered romantically around her head, and when she turned back, the smile replayed itself in slow motion, making her face even more stunning. “See you in a minute.”
And then she was gone, leaving me mesmerised and immobile, my fingers aching to reach out and touch her, but too stunned to move.
It wasn’t until I was seated at her dining room table that I remembered she’d said she wanted to go to the DIY centre. Was I keeping her back? Had she asked me to lunch out of politeness? I watched her making our sandwiches with grace and precision, and it didn’t look as if she was eager to dash off anytime soon. For once my mouth decided not to drop me, or her, in it. I guiltily held on to the time I had with her.
Flash. A lightbulb. A huge, fuck off, lightbulb shot off in my noggin. I must’ve looked like a Sim with one of those green plumbobs above my head. Was she working me? Was I the Sim directed by her commands? Were my actions the result of a mere click of the mouse, and I was doing what she asked of me? Or was I going all RADA on my own ass? It was one of two things. She was either buttering me up to lay the bombshell about Charlie on me or…or…she actually wanted me to be there with her eating tuna salad sandwiches.
“Here you go.” She slipped a plate in front of me, and then a cold glass of juice.
I looked up into warm brown eyes and felt the breath wheeze from me, and I knew my answer.
“I hope you like granary bread.” Her musical laugh chimed. “Considering we have spent all morning together, I don’t really know much about you.”
And I really didn’t know much about her, except that she was a property developer and she wanted my dog.
“Any dressing?”
I shook my head. When I opened my mouth, nothing came out. So I shook my head again and blushed furiously. For something to do, I took too large a bite of the sandwich and nearly choked. A strong hand slapped me on the back, and the errant piece of bread shot out of my mouth and landed ungraciously on the table. Social faux pas? You bet. Especially when I continued to cough and point lamely at my mouth.
More whacks and more coughing, followed by tears streaming down my face. I lifted my juice and spluttered some down, feeling the sting of it at the back of my throat. Emily looked at me with concern, her arm raised to hit me again.
“No…than-kk—yo—who.”
Jesus. I couldn’t even eat a sandwich when she was about. Another gulp of the cooling juice, and I felt a semblance of control over my vocal cords once again. But just to be on the safe side, I didn’t risk speaking.
“You sure you’re okay?”
I nodded and then took another sip.
She looked at me as if she was trying to work out whether I was lying. Apparently satisfied I wasn’t about to keel over in my plate, she slipped into the seat next to me.
A few moments passed before I took another bite, this time smaller.
She waited until I had chewed and swallowed before she asked, “Everything okay?”
Raising the sandwich, I grinned. “Well, it hasn’t killed me yet.” Not really the wittiest thing I’ve ever said, but at least she laughed.
Ten minutes later, lunch was out of the way and it was back to me and her. As we’d been eating, I had thought of so many questions I wanted to ask her. Funnily enough, not one had involved Charlie.
“Coffee?”
“How old are you?” What the…
“Why? Has caffeine an age restriction?” Emily tilted her head and looked deeply into my eyes before saying, “I have decaf, if you’re under the age limit.”
“Sorry. I…I don’t know where that came from.”
“Yes you do. It is called human nature. That’s what people do—ask questions.”
Duh. I know that. But why blurt out a question you are not supposed to ask a lady? Had I pissed her off?
“I’m thirty-six, single, an only child, develop
ed my own business from the money left to me by my parents, am very ambitious, and like to get what I want.”
She didn’t act as if I’d stepped over the boundaries of social etiquette for speaking to a woman. Actually, she looked beautiful. Her expression was open and honest, and her brown eyes sparkled.
My mouth went dry, very dry. She seemed to be expecting a response, but I didn’t know what to say. I considered asking if the Stonewall collection she sported accurately reflected her sexual preference. She missed that out in her mini autobiography. Instead I asked, and I think you’ll agree it was very radical of me, “So, erm, what do you want?”
Emily leaned forward until her face was only inches from mine. I could feel her breath on my face, and I inched closer to her. Dark eyes flickered down to my mouth and back to my eyes. One eyebrow rose up, and I watched her tongue slowly sweep across her lips.
“Well…”
The lump in my throat was larger than the chunk of sandwich had been. I didn’t dare breathe, lest I cough in her face.
“One thing comes to mind.”
Fuck. She was going to kiss me. She was going to kiss me. And if you missed it, she was going to kiss me.
“I want you to tell me if you would like…”
Yes. I didn’t care if I was being sycophantic. I wanted her to kiss me. A kiss was an unwritten promise.
“…a coffee.”
Coffee? A coffee? Did kisses come in coffee cups? And why was I suddenly wanting her to kiss me? Where had the “there is no room for anything else” scenario I’d concocted earlier? She laughed and moved away, and I was left opened mouthed and feeling cheated.
I didn’t want her to see how much she had affected me, so I leaned back on the chair and said, “Tea would be great. Milk, no sugar.”
They do say pride goeth before a fall, and I was definitely feeling smugly proud of myself at that moment. Until the “fall” bit, as my chair tipped me backwards and flat on my arse. It wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I’d hadn’t kicked the table on the way down and tipped that over with me. At least the smashing of plates covered my swearing.
I didn’t have time to consider my fall from grace, as Emily was kneeling next to me, her face full of concern rather than laughter. “You okay?”
I nodded. I didn’t trust my mouth to not spew out filth.
A slender hand stretched out to me, the fingers looking like those of a pianist rather than those of someone who was handy with power tools. “Here.”
Hesitant, I reached out and clasped her hand. Even though it seemed to happen each time we touched, I was still surprised to feel the jolt that raced through me.
“There it is again.” Emily’s eyes sparked just as much as the shock of electricity.
My lips quivered until they decided to slip into a grin. “Must be my magnetic personality.”
She cocked her head to the side, as she tended to do when she wanted to really look at something, and then that crooked grin slid into place.
My heart fluttered and bounced against my ribcage—something I used to believe would kill a person instead of making them feel more alive than they had in years.
In one pull she had me on my feet. I wanted to pretend to fall forward and into her arms, but it would have been a little obvious. Instead, I looked sheepish and stuffed my hands in my pockets.
“Erm… I’d better go.” Her face displayed a fleeting look of disappointment, and I wanted to say I’d stay.
“I thought you wanted a cup of tea. Milk, no sugar.”
“Sorry. Work beckons.” In fact, I did need to go. Not because I had a million and one things to do, but because I didn’t want anything to happen between me and Emily. I know, I’m up and down like a prostitute’s underwear about how I wanted our relationship to pan out. If I did allow myself to become even a little bit interested—too late, was the cry—where would that leave me when it came to Charlie? If I crossed the boundary into acquaintance, or even friend, would that jeopardise how I would act when it came to who would get Charlie?
“You have to go to the DIY store anyway, so…”
“DIY store?” She looked confused, then it was as if she had transferred the plumbobs over to her own head and the light obviously clicked on. “Oh God! Yes! The DIY store.”
I didn’t say a word. It was apparent she had never intended to go to the DIY store and had completely forgotten all about having said it. I decided to call her on it. “I could give you a lift there if you want. I need to get more plant pots from the gardening section.”
A look of mortification passed over her face, and she shook her head.
“It’s no bother.”
“I couldn’t. Honestly. I’ve taken up so much of your—”
“I insist. You gave me lunch, it’s the least I can do.”
She gritted her teeth, then nodded resignedly.
“Meet you outside in a few.” Before she could change her mind, I went to wait in the car. I have to admit, I laughed all the while.
Considering that her phone message had indicated it was imperative she get to the store, a bag of galvanised nails didn’t seem like appointment-changing stuff.
I glanced at the small package and pulled the face that usually accompanies “Is that it?” but said nothing.
As I pulled into her driveway, I heard her unbuckling her seatbelt before the car stopped. My, she was in a rush to hide her shame.
“Thanks for that, Ellie. I…erm…they didn’t have my order ready. I should’ve called to check.”
Yeah, right.
“Same time tomorrow?”
I gave her a grin and nodded.
Emily scuttled off into the sanctuary of her home. Even so, I could have sworn I saw her watching me from the living room window as I pulled away.
A feeling of happiness washed over me. It had been a long time since I had cared enough to look back in my rear view mirror to have a last look at a gorgeous woman. And before you say it, looking doesn’t mean anything, okay?
I arrived home to find eleven messages on my answering machine, most of them from potential clients. I couldn’t afford to miss jobs like that, and I didn’t care to have my sister calling me as soon as I walked in the door to accuse me of changing the kennel time because she had seen me with Emily the previous day.
“What did you think I’d do? Marry you off?” was the first thing she said as I answered the phone, and the rest of the conversation wasn’t much better.
The next morning, I went and bought a mobile phone before I did anything else. The phone shop was able use my existing number, thus saving me countless headaches in sorting out all my business cards and contact lists. It wasn’t a surprise to find I’d loads of missed messages waiting when I turned on my new cell.
I know this is boring reading, but sometimes life is boring and full of mundane tasks we have to complete in order to keep moving forward. Let’s call it a bread and butter moment, one of those times where events are used as non-substantive filler.
At eleven o’clock, I was turning into Emily’s drive. I grinned at seeing her waiting for me. It felt good to have someone waiting for me, although I certainly realised that it was not in the romantic “I need you” sense. I was just giving her a lift; it was a pairing of necessity. The grin I sported as I drove to the Dogs Trust was a little forced.
Emily was chatty at first, but I think she lost the will to be companionable when my answers remained monosyllabic. It wasn’t as if I ever was a chatterbox when we were together, but even I noticed my conversation lacked sparkle and va va voom.
Charlie was pleased to see us, and, after his initial greeting, he ran to the door, his tail wagging in anticipation of a good walk ahead.
The forty-five minutes flew by, and before I knew it, we were once again saying ou
r farewells to the little chap. I didn’t want to leave him there. Before I had a chance to block it out, the image of Toby at the vet’s slipped inside my head. An ache wove its way from my ribcage to my throat. Not now. Please. Not now.
“You okay?” Emily’s hand slipped through my arm, and I didn’t flinch from the energy that flowed from her to me, from me to her.
“I’m great.” So why did my voice sound so flat?
“Are you—”
“Hey, sis!”
Aw fuck. I should’ve known.
“Fancy seeing you here at this time.”
Abbie’s grinning face made me want to throttle her. My teeth clamped together so loudly, I was positive Emily must’ve heard the clack. But Abbie didn’t take the hint.
“I thought you came later than this.”
As if. She knew damn well I had come earlier the previous day. I had the scars from her personal Spanish Inquisition to prove it.
“Oh…hello, Emily. I didn’t see you there.”
Yeah, right. She didn’t see the woman standing at least four inches taller than me, holding my arm, facing her.
Well, Emily had been holding my arm. Her warm fingers slipped away, leaving a cold patch where her body had been in contact with mine.
“Oh, hi, Abbie. I thought I told you we were coming earl—”
“So glad I met up with the both of you.”
Had my sister just cut Emily off? Emily had told her? My sister and Emily were having conference calls? My eyes pinned a fidgeting Abbie, and I mouthed “You fuckster,” but she laughed nervously and ignored me.
“It’s Rob’s birthday next week, and I’m throwing a party for him this Saturday night.”
And? NO! No, no, and no.