Fiercely Emma: Cake Series Book Three

by J. Bengtsson

  “Excuse me, sir.” A man hurried over. “Would you like to try our headphones?”

  Yes. Yes, I most definitely would. And like a kid in a candy shop, I allowed myself to be led around from table to table, wide-eyed and drooling, as one vendor after another tempted me with bigger and better prizes. It was like winning The Price Is Right Showcase Showdown, but without any competition.

  And that’s how I now found myself in the storage unit, pretending to be someone I wasn’t in order to keep what wasn’t mine. I’d spent my day wallowing in filth, yet it was only now, surrounded by my new treasures, that I actually felt dirty. Living in this world was definitely more stress than it was worth. From this point forth, I was going to use my all-mighty wristband towards the pursuit of good, not evil. And in that spirit, I was dedicating the remainder of my weekend to what was really important: finding Emma.

  9

  Emma, Present Day: Living Dangerously

  I should never have picked him up. What had I been thinking? How could I have recklessly set aside my own safety for the sake of a stranger? I was lucky he wasn’t a rapist or a killer or any number of other things a single guy with ripped, grease-soiled jeans and crazy curly hair could have been.

  Glancing over at my unsuspecting mother, I felt the rise of shame-filled regret. She would be horrified by my behavior. I knew better… we all did. There was nothing like paying the price to be taught a valuable life lesson. So why did I do it? What force of nature turned off my common sense and allowed me to pick up a perfect stranger? One thing I knew for sure – I could never let Mom know what a complete and utter idiot I’d been. She’d never trust my judgment again. Hell, I no longer trusted myself.

  Finn was a mistake… a stupid, foolish mistake. And just to prove it, I was going to erase all traces of him forever. Pulling my phone out, I brought up his contact and clicked the edit screen. My finger hovered over the delete contact button and – surprise number two of the day – I hesitated. Huh? Picking that man up was possibly the worst decision I’d ever made in my entire life, and I was hesitating? What the hell was wrong with me? I was not a hesitater. Firm, swift, decision-making was my specialty.

  Quinn came barreling into the room with Keith on his tail.

  “What in the hell?” my father exclaimed, as he deftly jumped out of the way.

  Used to such childish antics between my brothers, I simply lifted my legs up to let them pass without ever taking my eyes off my cell phone screen.

  “I will beat the shit out of you,” Keith promised, as he kept up his pursuit. I didn’t know, nor did I care, what Quinn had done to earn his ire, but I was certain he was the instigator. Like Kyle, Quinn had a mischievous streak in him, and he reveled in pushing his older brother’s buttons. The two were out the door only a few seconds after entering.

  We had an entire floor of the moderately sized hotel. The festival organizers had set Jake and his team up with rooms and had thrown in the extra ones for his family as an added bonus. I arrived before the others and had a good hour of peace and quiet before the storm. Because security was manning the exits to keep overzealous fans from gaining access to the top floor, our group was free to wander the halls undisturbed… or in my brothers’ case, racing down them. It was an open-door policy, really. If a door was open, expect people to walk through it. Mine, of course, was firmly shut.

  I’d taken up residence for the time being in my parents’ room, and it was a busy place to be. Mom had baked cupcakes out of a box and frosted them with the icing in the plastic tubs, and you would have thought she was Betty Crocker herself. At this very moment we had three crew and two drivers chowing down. The overzealous groans of delight were reason enough to stay put on the couch. Mom had played baker for Jake’s band and crew many times before, and she never tired of the adoration lavished on her for her boxed culinary creations. This weekend’s crew was much smaller than the usual number Jake traveled with on tours, as the festival provided many of the personnel needed to make the show a success; still, even the reduced contingent of team members numbered in the twenties. And some of these guys had been with Jake for so long they really did feel like family.

  “Hi, Emma.” The greeting came from one of the sound engineers who’d just entered the room.

  “Hi, Tucker.”

  “Lookin’ fine, as usual.”

  “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.”

  “Well, you know, I work hard on my body,” he said, jiggling his belly fat for me to admire.

  “I can see that.”

  “Are you still single?” Tucker never tired of asking that question. Every. Single. Time. We. Met. “’Cuz I’m currently available, although I can’t promise for how much longer.”

  Grinning, I took in Tucker’s bushy black hair and fluffy biker-gang beard. He was maybe fifteen years my senior, and for some unknown reason, the man was always ‘currently available.’

  “You know I’m just waiting on your proposal,” I teased.

  “Right. Of course. But first I have to ask your father for your hand in marriage.”

  I pointed at my dad. “Have at it.”

  “Sir, I was…” Tucker grinned roguishly.

  “No.” Dad cut him off immediately, amusement playing out over his face. He loved this part of the ritual.

  “But I…”

  “No.”

  Tucker shrugged, shoved another cupcake in his mouth, and said through the crumbling cake, “Well, I tried.”

  “Better luck next time. I’ll be waiting.”

  This same routine had been going on for years. I cringed to think how much longer my dad would say no before he’d give up on my finding a husband on my own and just marry me off to Tucker and all his bushy-bearded, beer-bellied magnetism.

  I didn’t have to look at my parents to know they were exchanging that knowing glance. You know, the well-meaning, worried one parents adopted when they didn’t think we were looking. It was obvious my life displeased them. I had to assume it was because they viewed my apathy toward love and marriage as a bad thing. My seeming lack of interest in the opposite sex, or any sex for that matter, must have kept them up at night. My mother had even broached the whole topic of whether I was lesbian or not with a sympathetic, “You know we’ll love you no matter what” speech. Any discussions about my lack of a love life was always followed by “We just want you to be happy,” as if it were physically impossible to be happy without a partner.

  Contrary to how my parents obviously viewed me, I was not a virgin; although I guess you could say I played one on TV. Or, more to the point, I played one for my clueless family. It just seemed easier for them to think I was some old barren maiden doomed to a life of loneliness than to explain to them the many, many hang-ups I had with love and marriage. I even got my kitty Cynthia last year to throw them off course and drive home the perception that I was indeed starting down that slippery slope of cat ownership. In reality, I was no goody-goody. I’d been having the occasional romp since freshman year in college. But I’d kept my sex life far removed from my family because I knew they would not approve of my ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ lifestyle approach.

  I came from a traditional lot who believed in the whole happily ever after; never mind that a good chunk of my life had been spent inside a dark fairy tale. Yes, there were times that I longed to find someone to grow old with, but what was the point? Unless he shared my very jaded view on children, there could be no future. Eventually the guy would tire of waiting for me to get a handle on my insecurities and find a less complicated woman. The guys I slept with were simpletons, caring only about where their next score would come from. They weren’t looking for love or marriage, and if god forbid a kid were to pop out nine months after one of our trysts, well, the baby mama wouldn’t have to worry about shared custody.

  Quinn made another pass through the room, but Keith was no longer chasing him. Either Keith had gotten what he wanted or he was just too out of shape to keep up with Quinn’s t
eenaged exuberance. I caught him as he tried to get around my outstretched legs and pulled him to me, trapping him in my embrace.

  “Are you serious?” He squirmed. “I’m not five.”

  “I don’t care,” I teased, holding on tight. “I missed you. Give me a hug.”

  “No. You’re being a creeper.”

  “How come you never come visit me anymore?”

  “Because I’m seventeen.”

  “That’s not an answer, Quinn.”

  “Okay, how’s this?” he said, smirking. “I have better things to do than hang out with my sister. Besides, the last time I came over, you made me clean.”

  “You loved it and you know it.”

  “Yeah, because scraping bird shit off your window sills is my idea of a good time.”

  “You know, there was a time when I was your favorite person.”

  “By default, Emma. You were the only one around.”

  He had a point, but there was so much more to our relationship than that. Quinn and I had a special bond, and although he didn’t particularly like me throwing it in his face in front of others, I knew full well what he thought of me.

  Casey and Kenzie, my brother Kyle’s girlfriend, popped through the door and showered my mom with hugs and compliments. She ate it up. I suppressed the eye roll that was itching to be released. At least Mom had those two to make her dreams of grandbabies a reality. I could see them popping out enough little McKallisters to satisfy my mom’s needs without getting my womb involved in the action.

  “You ready?” Kenzie asked, plopping down beside me.

  Quinn saw his opening. Taking advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration, he weaseled out of my arms and charged for the door before I could reclaim him. Did he really think I’d make the effort to chase after him?

  “Emma?” Mom said, feeling the need to help me socially. “Did you hear Kenzie?”

  Purposely ignoring her meddling, I turned to Casey and Kenzie. “Ready for what?”

  “For us,” Casey said, spreading her arms out. “We’re having a girls’ night. Music, drinks, good company.”

  “Oh, wouldn’t that be fun?” my mom pitched in, giving me that fake cheerful face that said, I know you’re a miserable boob, but try not to ruin things for the rest of us.

  “What about Jake and Kyle?” I asked.

  “Jake’s got prep stuff and Kyle is pretending to guard him, so it’s just the three of us.”

  Great. I might have been able to stomach a girls’ night if the boys were at least coming. Then Grace came flouncing into the room. Oh, thank god, I was saved. My sister wedged herself into the armchair next to me. I immediately grabbed some of her hair and smoothed it out.

  “Actually, Grace and I were thinking of just staying in and doing our nails and things.” … and avoiding Finn…and avoiding you two.

  “Grace is hanging out with Jake tonight. He’s showing her some behind the scenes stuff,” Mom said, looking pleased that she was boxing me in further.

  Grace glanced up at me with guilty eyes. “Sorry. I was just coming in to tell you.”

  “So you’d rather spend the evening with your boring rock star brother than your kick-ass only sister?”

  “Uh… yeah.”

  I didn’t blame her. So would I. Great. Now I needed to wrack my brain for another excuse. But as I was sifting through the mental list, the expectant faces staring back at me weakened my resolve. Did it mean that much to them that I follow along, or had this been some concocted plot all along? “I guess…”

  “Awesome. You have five minutes,” Casey said, without giving me an option.

  My mother was smiling conspiratorially with my brothers’ significant others. Yep, concocted. I wondered how she’d asked the girls to drag me along. Please take my anti-social daughter out and find her a man. Ugghh.

  One Uber ride, two shows, and three drinks later, I was feeling more relaxed than I had in a long time. I’d totally forgotten about my earlier mistakes and was ready to make fresh, new ones. Finn had me all worked up from earlier, and now I was on the prowl. Unfortunately, the gene pool I had to choose from was not terribly deep. Most of the males in the vicinity were stumbling around under the influence of Molly, the party drug of choice at this festival. The others seemed precariously committed to the women they’d pinpointed as easy marks. Beautiful people were plentiful. This music festival was the place to see and be seen, so naturally it brought out a certain caliber and class of people… and by class, I meant the upper. Money was the common thread that ran rampant through the fairgrounds. Sure, there were the hardcore music lovers who’d had to scrape together the exorbitant entry fees, but they appeared to be few and far between.

  It made me wonder about Finn. He didn’t appear privileged, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t. Still, what was he doing coming to a three-day festival by himself? Was he just here to partake in the spoils of a weekend filled with sex, drugs, and rock ’n roll? God, I hoped not. It was funny that I didn’t know a thing about him, yet I already held him to a higher standard.

  After I’d downed the second drink, I found it so much easier to justify my earlier actions. Sure, Finn was a stranger, but he was also a fellow citizen in need. What kind of person would I be if I’d just left him to dehydrate on the side of the road? The fact that I was affected by his charming smile and his increasingly endearing curly hair had nothing to do with it… no, I was simply fulfilling my civic duty. Nothing more. Uh huh, right. I could justify my actions all day long, but it didn’t erase the fact that I was scanning the crowds in desperate search of his face, or that during one of the shows, I’d actually twirled. Twirled, as in spun around in a carefree display of happiness!

  I could lie and say it was the alcohol that was behind my sudden Mary Poppins moment, but I had to give credit where it was due. The chance meeting with Finn had changed my mood. I hadn’t even realized I’d been in a bad one until that strange, anxious feeling got all caught up in my chest. Elation swept me up, and I morphed into a giddy state. The smile I was carrying was a thing of beauty. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so light.

  I had to face the facts: as implausible as it seemed, I’d developed a crush on the parking lot mechanic. I’d had them before – crushes, that is, not mechanics – but that was way back when I was a wide-eyed teenager who still believed in The One. And in that adolescent dream world, my ideal guy had looked and acted nothing like Finn. And, yet, that fact only heightened my attraction. Maybe I was itching for something different… something that made me feel more than just blah.

  Knowing that at some point Finn and I would cross paths behind the scenes at some concert kept my senses on high alert. I took out my phone for the hundredth time. Why hadn’t I just given him my number? It was too much pressure having his at my fingertip. If I called him, it would imply certain things. That I was interested. That I was available. That I was whipped on him. No. That would make me too vulnerable, and I never played the helpless card.

  Casey, Kenzie, and I were backstage during the performance of a band they’d both raved about. I watched as they danced around wild and free, but even with my newfound joy, I still couldn’t forgive bad music. These guys were like Jake on musical steroids. The singer’s voice was so high-pitched at times that my eyes actually watered. I could only assume that Casey and Kenzie were either musically illiterate or that they were just too tipsy to care. Tapping my foot to the beat was as much as I was willing to give this untalented bunch.

  After the concert, the musicians exited the stage, and the lead singer headed in our direction. His piercing stare fell over the three of us, and a predatory grin took over his exhausted face. I recognized him as the lead singer by the spiked black hair and charcoal guyliner, which was currently smeared down his face. Nothing about him interested me, but I could certainly see how his fans would find him attractive.

  “Ladies.” He dipped his head in a sexy way. “Did you enjoy the show?” A steady stream of sweat po
ured out from his hairline, and all I could think was, Finn does ‘sweaty’ so much better.

  Both Kenzie and Casey chattered and gushed over each other to be the one who offered the most praise, which only served to stroke the rocker’s ego. Unimpressed, I checked my phone once more.

  “And what about you?”

  I looked up to see him addressing me with that cocky smile of his. The alcohol made me more honest than I would have liked. “It was… loud.”

  “Loud?” He smirked, nodding his head. “That’s the point.”

  “Oh, well, in that case, it was awesome.”

  The expression that transformed his flirtatious grin was one of annoyance and surprise. Seriously? Did no one ever give this guy honest feedback?

  “You’re a sass queen.” He nodded. “Okay, I can appreciate that.”

  His tongue actually flicked in my direction. I suppressed the overwhelming urge to vomit on him.

  “You three wanna party? Meet the guys? I promise it will be the time of your lives.”

  Before the other two could go on a pages-long explanation as to why they couldn’t party with these particular rock stars, I decided to nip it in the bud right then and there. “She’s engaged to Jake McKallister, and she’s dating his brother. I guarantee… you won’t measure up.”

  The rocker looked on in shock, his mouth actually gaping open, as I grabbed Casey and Kenzie and steered them away from the horndog.

  “Hey!” the sweaty guy called out. “Who are you, then?”

  I turned and flashed him what I hoped was my sassiest smile before walking away.

  “You’re such a tease,” Kenzie whispered, as we hurried out of there.

  “Me? You were the ones stroking his dick with all your gushing.”

  “We were just being friendly,” she argued. “How were we to know he was going to turn it dirty?”

  “Um…let’s see… because he’s a rock star? That’s what they do.”