by Robyn Neeley
Emma stared as he handed Caitlin a cookie. They were again smiling and laughing. How could he possibly have such a good time with someone so shallow? Emma brooded and finished her cupcake. One more hour and she’d hightail it out of there, with or without Abby.
“All right, everyone, let’s get started!” Betty boomed into the microphone. “Ladies, we’ve got plenty more bachelors to make your summer flings.”
Emma crinkled up her cupcake foil and napkin, tossed both in a nearby garbage can, and took her seat. She shook her head as she gazed at the front row. If Jason and Caitlin were having such a good time together, why didn’t they just go get a room already? She mentally smacked herself upside the head. Why did she even care?
Forty minutes later, Abby nudged her in the rib. “You need to get that paddle ready. There are only two more guys left. You’re bidding on one.”
Emma twisted the paddle in her hand. She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be waving it. As the evening went on, none of the guys on stage did it for her. Sure, there had been some cute ones in the bunch, but she’d either known them since she was in elementary school or they were the guys that frequented her bakery on Monday nights, hoping she’d draw their names out of her hat. Her special someone wasn’t among these men. Not by a long shot.
She studied the program. The last two bachelors were definitely not for her. She’d be happy to write a check to the animal shelter for a couple of hundred dollars to support their efforts, but she was simply not going to spend her summer with a truck driver named Bud or Evan, the botanist. What would they talk about? She knew nothing about trucks or plant life.
She looked over at her cousin. “I’m sorry, Abs.”
“You’re not going to bid, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” Emma turned over the pink paddle in her lap, running her finger over the glitter. “Not this year.”
Abby winced. “Who are my fling and I going to double date with now?”
Once the final two men had flings, the women stood and began to clap for all the bachelors who had lined up on stage for a round of applause. Betty led the hooting and hollering, but suddenly jumped off stage. With everyone standing, Emma couldn’t see what was going on up front. She hoped the old woman was okay and glanced around to see if there were any paramedics nearby.
In seconds, Betty returned to the podium and took the microphone. “Okay, ladies. Take a seat. I’ve got a special treat. We’ve got one last-minute bachelor entry for the night.”
Abby sat down and tugged on Emma’s arm, pulling her into her seat. “It’s a sign! You have to bid on this guy, whoever he is. ”
Betty held her microphone up to her lips. “Let’s hear it for our last bachelor and latest visitor to Buttermilk Falls, Jason Levine.”
Emma’s jaw dropped.
“Dammit,” Abby cried, loud enough for the women around them to hear. “I mean, damn hot pick. Go get him, girls!” She leaned in and whispered to Emma, “I would have paid double for that one.”
Emma watched as Jason hopped onto the stage. In his blue buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and loafers, he definitely was rocking a handsome preppy look. Would Caitlin be sporting the same shirt tomorrow morning? She cringed at the thought.
“One hundred!” A young elementary school teacher in front of Emma and Abby screamed before Betty had even started the bidding.
Abby grabbed Emma’s hand and hoisted it up. “Two hundred!” She yelled.
Emma yanked her hand away from Abby, gritting her teeth. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Getting you some summer action. Besides, you don’t want Caitlin to win him, do you?”
“Two fifty.” Caitlin waved her paddle from the front row. Emma could make out her rival’s perfect French manicure around its handle. Man, she wanted to rip those tips off.
Why did Caitlin need to bid on Jason? He apparently was already in her bed. She just didn’t want Emma to win him. Once again, they were back in high school.
She had an idea. A perfect plan that would raise a lot of money for the shelter and get her cousin off her back for not bidding. If Caitlin wanted Jason all to herself for the summer, she’d have to work for him.
“Five hundred!” Emma waved her paddle.
“Emma!” Abby shrieked.
“It’s fine. There’s no way in hell she’ll let me win, but I’m going to give her a fight. The animal shelter needs that expanded wing. Maybe your fling will have a permanent job by the end of the summer with the cash we’re about to raise.”
“One thousand!” Caitlin shrieked. She turned around, shooting them a smug look.
Emma’s eyes narrowed. It was like cheerleading tryouts all over again. Emma had wanted desperately to be on the varsity squad, but Caitlin made sure the judges selected another girl that could barely do a split. Emma had spent her senior year cheering in the bleachers while Caitlin kicked and flipped during half time. Well, not tonight.
Emma glanced over at Jason. His eyes burned through her. “Five thousand,” she blurted.
The crowd erupted in cheers and Betty steadied herself, placing both hands on the podium.
“Do I hear five thousand five hundred?” she squeaked.
Caitlin remained silent.
Emma froze in horror. What had she done? Where was she going to get five thousand dollars? Come on, Caitlin. You, of all people, have the money. Just bid five thousand and one and Jason is yours.
Caitlin shook her head.
“Going, going . . .”
“Sorry, Jason, I’m out.” Caitlin laid her paddle down.
“Gone!” Betty roared into the microphone. “Congratulations, Emma Stevens. Jason Levine is your summer fling.”
7
EMMA FLIPPED over onto her back and pounded her fist on her crisp white duvet. Who in God’s name was knocking on her front door so early in the morning? She glanced over at her digital alarm clock and sprung up. It was after eleven a.m.! How on earth did she manage to sleep away the entire morning? She never slept past seven. Never. Not even on the weekends. She threw her legs over her queen-sized bed and placed her feet in her pink ballet slippers. Reaching for her matching silk bathrobe, she threw it on and headed for her back door.
Magic greeted her in the hallway, rubbing up against her legs. “They woke you up, too, I take it.” She reached down and scooped up her fluffy roommate, giving him a peck on his soft, furry head. The knocking continued. “Geez. I’m coming. I’m coming.”
It was probably her mother and Aunt Jackie. They liked to stop over on Saturday morning without calling first and always brought with them a bag full of ingredients to try out a new cupcake recipe. Even though her mother had officially retired, she still enjoyed whipping up fun concoctions that could then be sold on Mondays as a “back to work” special.
Her mother also used the excuse of coming over to bake to drill Emma on Batter Up night. She loved hearing all the details on who the batter selected for the latest bachelor. Emma knew her mom secretly hoped that one day her only daughter’s name would appear. She was actually kind of surprised that after all these years, her mom hadn’t found a way to make it happen.
Reaching the door, she unlocked the bolt and flung it open. The person on the other side startled her.
Thud! She glanced down in horror. She’d dropped her feline!
It wasn’t her mother standing on her doorstep but Jason, holding two iced coffees lodged in a paper tray, his black hair slicked back with silver aviator sunglasses. “Morning.” He grinned, showing off his trademark dimples.
Magic shot them both an irritated look and sauntered out of the kitchen. “Is your cat okay?” Jason asked.
Emma pulled her bathrobe close to her chest, tightening her silk belt around her waist. “He’ll be fine.” She bit her lower lip. “What are you doing here?”
His gorgeous blue eyes twinkled, showing a hint of mischief. She seriously wished he’d put his glasses on and cover them. Between his eyes and dimples, she could hardly
concentrate.
“I thought we could have coffee together and start our summer fling. I haven’t seen you since Wednesday night.”
“I’ve been busy.” Busy avoiding you. She went to shut the door. “That’s not how it works, anyway.”
“Wait.” He put his hand up to stop her. “I don’t want this coffee to go to waste.”
“Why don’t you give it to Caitlin then?” She peered over his shoulder, half suspecting the she-devil to be lurking in the bushes.
“I could, but I’d have to drive it to her house, and since I don’t know where she lives, maybe you could take it?”
Emma smirked. “What, taking a break?”
Jason pulled out one of the coffee cups. He wrapped a brown paper napkin around the container and handed it to her. “Bob at the Star Lite told me blueberry iced coffee is your favorite . . . extra cream and sugar. Made to order.”
Emma paused but then took the cup. No need to turn down an already made caffeinated beverage. Besides, he was right. Blueberry iced coffee was indeed her favorite. “Thanks.” She started to shut the door again.
“Emma, you’re really going to take the coffee I bought you and leave me out here?”
“Yep.” She stared at him for a second. Wednesday night’s preppy outfit was replaced with khaki shorts and a dark blue T-shirt. With his tan boat shoes, he looked like he was ready for a day out on the lake.
“Seriously?”
“No, I guess not.”
“I was thinking we could drink them out there.” He nodded to the swing at the very end of the dock. “Talk a little.”
“Talk?”
“You know. Get to know each other.” He chuckled. “Call me traditional, but I’d like to know a little bit about the woman I’m about to have a fling with.”
Emma eyed him. First, he brought over her favorite coffee. Now he wanted to get to know her Was this sudden interest simply a trick to get her to open up about Batter Up night? It probably was.
She thought for a minute. She could easily make up some excuse not to join him, but her mother always did believe in the saying, “Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.” This man was definitely not her friend. “Fine. I’ll meet you on the dock, Mr. Levine.” She handed him back her coffee.
“Jason. Call me Jason.”
There were other names she’d prefer to call him. She flashed him a bright, phony smile. “Jason.”
Shutting the door, she headed to her room to change. Magic had taken to the center of her bed, sprawled out on his back with paws up in the air. “Sorry, buddy. I didn’t mean to drop you.” She scratched his belly and then threw on khaki shorts and a short-sleeve red top. Grabbing her Red Sox hat from her nightstand, she threw her hair up in a high ponytail and placed it on.
Brushing her teeth, she glanced in her bathroom mirror. Was this guy really her summer fling? Maybe she could check with Betty and Bridget later to see if there was an exchange policy.
Once outside, her gaze rested on Jason who rocked on the white wooden swing. He was on his phone. Probably talking to Caitlin. She took her time reaching him, studying his features.
Her heart sped up with each step. Its constant galloping every time she came within ten feet of this man was getting on her nerves. He was trying to ruin her livelihood, after all.
“I’ll have to call you back.” He set his phone to his side and squinted up. “Oh, I’m sorry. This isn’t going to work.”
“What?” She crisscrossed her arms. Maybe this was a bad idea.
He pointed to the top of her head. “It’s the cap. I can’t let you sit with me.”
She smiled. “Yankees fan?”
“Marlins.”
“Who?”
“Touché.” He shifted to make room for her, handing her back her coffee. “I guess you can stay.”
Emma sat down and sipped her coffee, letting the caffeinated beverage flow down her throat and do its magic. Her taste buds welcomed the familiar blueberry syrup.
Jason was the first to break the ice. “So, the auction was quite something.”
She bit down on her straw. “That’s one way to describe it.”
“Think the animal shelter will name the new wing after you?”
“They should.” She hadn’t forgotten that as soon as she dropped off the check to the shelter, her bank account would be five thousand dollars less. What was she thinking? The money she had been saving to finally buy a new car was now spent on this stranger sitting next to her, whom—not to forget—she despised. Five grand down the drain.
She smiled dryly. “It’s for a good cause. With that wing, more cats like Magic can be boarded and put up for adoption. I couldn’t be happier to support such a wonderful project.”
“Your cat’s named Magic?” Jason chuckled. “Of course, it is.”
“What?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just the name appears to be fitting.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a name for my black cat that I adopted on Halloween. Nothing more.”
“Right.” He played with his straw. “So, this expansion means a lot to you?”
“Absolutely.” She nodded without hesitation.
“But you didn’t bid on any of the bachelors?”
“I bid on you.”
“Yes, but I was a walk-on. You didn’t know there would be one more.”
Shoot. He had a point. She waved her hand in the air as if it was no big deal for her to drain her bank account on any given day. “I was planning on making a sizeable donation. Abby said it would look better if I bid.”
“I see.” His smug smile was a dead giveaway that he wasn’t buying what she was saying for a second. He leaned back. “Well, lucky you did. Now you get to not only support your cause, but spend the rest of your summer with a handsome reporter.”
She pointed at him. “Who, you? I thought you were only here a week. Shouldn’t you be leaving . . .” She tapped on her watch. “Like right about now?”
“My plans changed.”
Emma’s heart pounded while her head went into contingency plan mode. She’d purposely avoided running into Jason at home after Wednesday night until the week was up. Now what was she supposed to do? “Lucky me,” was all she could muster.
He smirked. “Okay, hard-hitting question one. Have you always lived here?”
Emma nodded. “Born and bred. My grandparents lived just on the edge of the lake. My mother still lives in the house I grew up in.”
“What about your dad?”
“Never knew him. He left before I was born.”
“Oh.” He touched her arm. “I’m sorry.”
She pulled away, but not in time to avoid the electrifying tingle his touch shot straight up her arm. “It’s not a big deal.” It was a big deal. So much so, she held onto the hope that one Sunday at two o’clock, her dad would step off a bus and back into her life. Jason would never know that.
“Well, this is a beautiful area from what I’ve seen. Did you ever want to leave?”
She shrugged. “Yes . . . no . . . I suppose in college. You know, you dream of places like New York City, Los Angeles, Miami.”
He chuckled. “Been there. Doing that. You can throw Boston in there, too.”
Emma slouched back in the swing. “So, Jason. Where are you from?”
“From? That’s a hard question to answer. I’ve lived almost everywhere. Right now, I have a condo on South Beach.”
“Oh, that’s right. The Miami Herald thing.”
“Why, Emma, have you been doing your own investigation?”
“When someone comes snooping around my bakery, I make it a point to find out why.”
He looked over and they locked eyes, causing her heart to start racing again. Annoyed, she looked down at her chest. “Stop it,” she ordered.
“Stop what?”
“Nothing.” She sipped her coffee and stretched out her legs. Time to change the subject. “So, what made you decide to stay longer?”
He grinned. “I think you know.” He paused. “Your mother’s chocolate chip cookies.”
She’d completely forgotten about the gift she’d dropped off last Sunday. “I see you got her present.”
“They were amazing. Why did she make them for me?”
“Don’t think you’re special,” she retorted. “She does that for everyone visiting for the first time.” Everyone with a penis.
“Well, I hope I get to meet her soon.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Why? Do you want to interview her?”
“I probably deserve that. How about we call a truce?”
Emma shrugged. “I’m not the one digging for a story that isn’t there.”
He fiddled with his straw wrapper, pushing it into his empty plastic cup. “I just thought maybe we could start over. You know. Now that I’m your fling and all.”
“About that.” Emma swung to face him. “We don’t have to actually go through with it.”
He raised a playful eyebrow. “Why, Emma Stevens, are you dumping me already?”
“No . . . I mean . . . it’s just that . . .”
“You don’t trust me.”
She bit her lip. “Well, now that you mention it. No. I don’t.”
“I can assure you, my intentions are innocent.”
“So, you innocently came into my bakery with no intentions of accusing me of witchcraft?”
“That’s not what happened, but if that’s what you want to call it . . .”
Her body tensed. Handsome or not, it was clear this reporter had a one-track mind: exposing her. She shook her head. Shame on her for falling for his “let’s have coffee and get to know each other” act. She stood. “I must go.”
He reached up and touched her arm. “I didn’t mean to upset you. Let me explain.”
She sat down and waited. Nothing was coming out of his mouth. “Well?”
“Emma, let’s look at this from my perspective. I learn from your client, Tom, that the only reason he’s in Las Vegas and getting married is because you predicted it . . . with some magical food coloring. It’s pretty ridiculous.”