“This came for you,” Malcolm replied, producing a fluted crystal vase with a bouquet of brilliant blue flowers housed inside. Sitting the bouquet on the desk, Malcolm took a step back.
“I wonder who in the world they’re from,” Emery mused. With that, Malcolm produced a card. Reaching forward, Emery took the envelope. Her curiosity was peaked. Only her name was written across the front. Maybe a grateful client decided to send a thank you, Emery thought as she pulled out the card and read it silently.
Emery,
Many men send flowers. I’m not many men. I wanted you to have these especially from me.
My purpose for sending the blue salvia was intentional. Flowers have a language all their own. The blue salvia says, I’ve been thinking of you. To be honest, Emery, I can’t stop thinking about you.
“From that smile, I doubt it was a client,” Malcolm said. Emery didn’t bother correcting him. It wasn’t a client. Reaching into his jacket pocket, Malcolm produced a second card.
“What in the world,” Emery replied.
“Hey, just following instructions,” Malcolm said with a smile. He made his exit as Emery opened the second card.
I asked your assistant to give you the second card only if you didn’t throw away the first. I want to see you. I need to see you. Have dinner with me, tomorrow night. 8:00 p.m. Top of the Tower.
Evan
The fragrance of the bouquet was pleasant. Emery pulled the vase closer to her, letting the sweet aromatics fill her nostrils. Evan wanted to see her again. It was natural for Emery not to trust Evan’s gesture. There had been too many false starts, too many hopes dashed, too many nights crying from a broken heart to be susceptive to eloquent words and romantic gestures. Emery pushed the card aside. She had to protect herself and her heart. Evan couldn’t be taken seriously. Emery needed to get back to work and spend less time contemplating Evan’s intentions. The brief on her desk wasn’t going to read itself and she needed to prepare for court in the morning.
The case Emery was working on could set a precedent for non-union laborers. The discrimination lawsuit filed by employees of a privately-owned merchandising company alleged the owners unfairly discriminated against persons of color and female employees given the marked salary differentials said employees were paid. This would be an uphill battle, as the case represented a number of hot-bed political issues. Emery couldn’t afford to be distracted in pursuing this case. Evan Stanton was a distraction; a sexy one but a distraction nonetheless. So, she dug in, literally rolling up her sleeves; reviewing and studying the applicable law, cross-referencing the law with current market practices and honing up on her knowledge of precedent-setting discrimination cases in recent history. When Emery’s desk phone buzzed, she startled.
“Ms. Moore, I wanted to check in to see if there was anything else you needed before I leave for the evening.”
“What time is it Malcolm?” Emery had been so consumed with her work, she didn’t realize how late it was.
“6:30.”
“Already?” Emery’s eyes rested on the wall clock on the wall, confirming the time.
“Yes. You’ve been working pretty steadily since lunch.”
“I don’t need anything, Malcolm. Thanks for checking and have a good evening.”
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
Emery disconnected the line and leaned back in her executive chair. She had gotten a lot accomplished but there was much more she needed to do. Emery decided she could work on the rest of it in the comfort of her own home. Gathering her things, Emery called for her car to come around. She packed her briefcase and turned off her computer. Standing to her feet, Emery felt the effect of working so intensely. It would be good to get out of the office and get some fresh air.
Emery’s car was waiting for her once she exited the building. She stood outside the building for a moment, feeling the slight chill of the night air. Although there was a lot of activity with people bustling and cars moving, it was peaceful for Emery, breathing in slowly and releasing some of the strain of the day. Her driver, Marcos, stood nearby, waiting for Emery to approach and when she was ready, Marcos opened the back door and waited until she was comfortably seated before closing the door behind her.
“Straight home, ma’am?”
“Yes’, Marcos, straight home.”
Emery settled in. Her thoughts were still on the case. A ring from her cell phone interrupted Emery’s thoughts. Reaching into her purse, Emery pulled out her phone and looked at the name.
Mom
She couldn’t answer it. But that didn’t stop the phone from ringing again and again. Emery ran her finger across the screen and sent the call to voicemail. She hadn’t spoken to her mother since the last family dinner. For some, not speaking to your mom for 24, 48 hours might not be a big deal. However, for Emery and Felicia, not speaking for a few days equated to not talking for months. Before Felicia introduced Samantha as the oldest Moore daughter, Emery and her mom spoke every day sometimes twice a day. The conversation didn’t have to be deep; just a check in to make sure everyone was okay and to remind each other that they loved each other. The mother-daughter relationship between Emery and Felicia was special and they both knew it.
But Felicia underestimated the impact introducing a long-lost sister would have on her oldest child. Even more, Emery didn’t fully understand her feelings. They were mixed; not just about her parents, who apparently had been lying to her and her younger sisters all these years but who she was as a result of Samantha coming into the family. Emery had always been the oldest daughter. She was the one her sisters looked up to and leaned on for advice. Emery was the one who strived to set a good example for her sisters. She was the oldest and she took that position and the responsibilities that came with it very seriously.
Still, it was more than that. The Moore’s were like the modern-day Huxtables. They were a Black, upper-middle-class family with happily married parents and eight daughters who were as smart as they were lovely. Her parents’ relationship was solid, stable, loving and remarkable in the sense that Felicia and Cecil absolutely loved each other, and they didn’t mind showing it. Her parents taught Emery and her sisters the importance of values like honesty, morality, being of good character, respecting yourself as well as others. Emery’s ideas about love, romance and relationships were founded on the example her parents set before her. She wanted what her mother had; a man that cherished her, respected her, elevated her and desired her. More than that, Emery emulated her mother and the principles Felicia instilled in her, the code a real woman should live by.
But what now? Emery felt like everything she had ever known to be true was a lie; that all those values and traits and principles were all bullshit, founded on a lie. Emery’s eyes were drawn out the window. She watched the cityscape fade to the background overtaken by long stretches of darkness. This situation with her family made Emery doubt everything she thought to be true and right. Doubt… the one thing that had plagued her relationships in the past; keeping Emery from trusting, believing that someone could genuinely love her and that she was worthy and capable of that kind of love herself. And here it was again; that same doubt that undermined her feelings and made her question the authenticity of others, like Evan and every man that expressed interest in her before him.
Just as Marcos pulled off the highway, Emery’s phone chirped to life again. Emery was prepared to send the call to voicemail again, without even looking at the name. it was probably her mother again. Felicia could be pretty insistent when she wanted to. Turning the phone over in her hand, Emery hesitated. A smile inhabited Emery’s lips as she saw the name.
“Attorney Stanton,” Emery said answering the phone.
“I thought by now you’d refer to me as Evan.” His baritone voice was deep and melodic.
“Attorney Evan,” Emery teased.
“Oh, you’ve got jokes, I see?”
“Mmhmm,” Emery moaned; the smile on her lips remaining.
“I did. They were beautiful. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Emery. Beautiful flowers for a beautiful woman.”
“I bet you say that to all the ladies,” Emery replied.
“No, just you,” Evan said.
Emery’s heart beat faster just hearing his voice. Evan sounded sincere, but could she trust it? Emery tried to keep it together, but it was hard. There was just something about Evan. He unsettled her.
“You don’t believe me, do you Emery?”
She hesitated. It would be so easy to believe Evan. There was a part of Emery that desperately wanted to believe he was genuinely interested in her. There was also a part of Emery that knew it couldn’t be true.
“I guess,” Emery replied.
There was something in Emery’s voice. Evan felt it.
“That’s fair,” Evan said. “Give me a chance to show you who I am, the real me, not the one you heard about.”
“And why should I do that?” Emery quipped, the race of her heart beating fast, echoing in her ears. It was getting harder to deny.
“Because you want to.”
“You think you know me, Evan?”
“Not fully,” he answered. “But I want to.”
“Why?” Immediately Emery regretted asking. She was playing coy in asking, flirting with his intention. But that one simple question left Emery wide open for whatever his answer was. Emery wasn’t sure she was ready for that.
“I mean”
“Don’t retract the question, Emery,” Evan replied. “Unless you don’t really want me to answer it.”
Emery fell silent again.
“I tell you what,” Evan said, breaking the silence. “Meet me for dinner. You can decide then if you want the answer to your question.”
The call ended. Emery didn’t give Evan a firm answer, but he didn’t sound surprised. That was bothersome. Maybe her insecurities spilled over into the conversation. Evan was an intuitive man, that Emery knew. She watched him with intention in the courtroom. He was calculating; capable of sizing up a witness in just a few minutes and having them confess things they’d sworn they would never tell. But they did because Evan was skillful. He was a wordsmith with a crafty argument. Maybe he was using those same skills on her? Bending her to his will with flowery words and sexy, masterful manipulation?
As Marcos pulled in front of the house, Emery thought about it some more. She had skills of her own; the power of persuasion, and her verbal skills were not to be played with. She too could turn a witness on a dime; and put forth an argument so convincing, she made believers out of those who questioned her. Emery was a force to be reckoned with.
“Will there be anything else, Ms. Moore?”
Her driver's question drew Emery back from her musings.
“No, Marcos, nothing else. Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Have a good evening, Ms. Moore.”
Marcos watched until Emery entered her palatial home. Emery locked the door behind her and turned off the alarm before it counted down. Kicking off her shoes, Emery sat her briefcase down and took off her jacket. That damn Evan. He’d gotten under her skin, in more ways than one. Still, trusting him could be inherently dangerous. If she did, give him a chance to prove to her that he was more than the rumors, what good would it do? Could he really be the one to love her and remove all the doubt she’d been carrying so long? Maybe he could. Maybe Evan was everything she ever wanted, ever desired in a man. Or he could be just like the others; just like the men she’d encountered in her past. They were short-sighted, self-indulgent, threatened by who she was, although they claimed to want a woman who knew who she was, had confidence, moved purposefully and loved them without condition. But that’s not what they really wanted, or they couldn’t handle it. Either way, Emery wasn’t interested in traveling down that dead-end path again.
Crossing the living room, Emery made her way into the kitchen. From a lower cabinet, Emery pulled out a bottle of red wine; a 2012 Robert Mondavi, one of her favorites. After the last couple of days, she had, Emery deserved it. Reaching for a glass from an upper cabinet, Emery rinsed it in the sink and then poured from the bottle she’d opened.
Emery swirled the burgundy liquid in her glass and then lifting the glass to her nose, she inhaled the aromatics. The first taste was always the best and Emery savored it as she made her way upstairs. She doubted Evan’s sincerity. Yet, there was a hint of a smile on Emery’s lips. She couldn’t deny being intrigued by him, despite her distrust. Crossing into the master bedroom, Emery’s mind traveled back to being in Evan’s thick muscle corded arms. How he held her as though she was somehow precious to him. How Evan made her feel like he never wanted to let her go; like she belonged in that space nestled next to him. When her mind ventured back to how he sexed her, the smile on Emery’s lips grew. She had to be honest with herself, even though she would like to be able to deny it. Evan touched her body and it came alive. With every trace of his finger and thrust of his hips, Evan awakened a part of Emery that had been lulled to sleep. Or maybe it had never been alive at all? Just thinking about him caused a tingle of heat to travel to her sweet spot. Denial of that feeling was futile, and Emery’s smile remained.
There was a smile on Evan’s lips as well. Emery intrigued him. She always had. Unlike many of the women Evan encountered, Emery didn’t seem immediately impressed by him. For Evan, Emery was a conundrum. She could be cool and brash in the courtroom, yet, in person, outside of the legal arena, there was a vulnerability there; not a weakness. Evan wasn’t drawn to weak women. And Emery Moore certainly was not weak. The vulnerability he saw in her spoke to a part of her heart that may have been hurt in the past and not repaired. She hadn’t been loved by the right kind of man. Maybe he was the one to fix that.
Loosening his tie and removing it, Evan unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. Although he’d had a long day, battling in the courtroom, taking to Emery energized him. Changing out of his work clothes, Evan walked to the lower level of his home where the gym was. Hitting the switch on the wall, the room lit up; steel dumbbells reflecting on the floor to ceiling mirrors. This room is where Evan did his best thinking. And all he could think about was Emery. He had some things to work out. Being captivated by one woman was not Evan’s style. Although he would like to deny it, he had been a lady’s man; loving on them and leaving them; telling himself it was easier that way. He was building a dynasty. He had to remain focused on his career and getting involved too deeply with any woman would be a distraction to what was most important. That’s what he said to anyone who asked. That’s what he said to himself. Standing in front of the mirror, a dumbbell in each hand, Evan curled the weight, flexing his muscle and then released it; alternating left to right until his biceps and triceps burned. Beads of sweat dotted his brow and he thought about Emery.
Conquest was not uncommon for Evan, especially when he was younger. But he wasn’t the same man anymore. He had a greater sense of what was important to him. Building a dynasty was fine, and he’d done that quite successfully. Yet, Evan had no one, no special someone to share that with. Not just a woman who would listen to him as he shared his thoughts, dreams, his goals for the future, but someone who would understand why he thought his thoughts, dreamed the way he did and set goals that seemed insurmountable. Evan had no desire for average. He understood that what he needed most was exceptional. Lying down on the weight bench and lifting the barbell onto his hands, Evan pressed the weight and lowered it, then pressed and lowered it again.
Emery…
A challenge, true, but she was worth it. Evan knew that even before their tryst the other night. Evan understood just as well, that Emery was no oblivious to the rumors, the photos of him with one model after another, the headlines about his bachelor status and the next woman on his arm. Emery was no fool. She heard the rumors and believed them, Evan thought assuredly. But Em
ery had gotten under his skin and he couldn’t shake her. No woman before her disturbed his thoughts the way Emery did. Evan was no fool though. He would have to convince her that there was more to him than just pretty women on his arm. Emery just had to give him a chance.
Chapter Six
Malcolm Bryant and Emery’s first chair, Deneen Simmons, kept pace with Attorney Moore as she entered the courthouse. Dressed immaculately in a navy-blue pinstripe pantsuit, Emery glided confidently down the hallway and into the courtroom she intended to conquer. The galley was already filled and opposing counsel occupied their table. Today’s opponent was Tristan Summers. Under other circumstances, Emery would have seen Tristan through a different light. He was handsome, tall with a smooth café latte complexion, and a perfectly trimmed beard that accentuated his kissable lips. This was not the first time the two attorneys met across the legal aisle.
As Emery moved behind counsel table, she felt knowing eyes on her. And Tristan knew Emery. He knew her well.
“Nice to see you again, counsel,” Tristan flirted. He was standing closer than he should have, but that was just like him. Tristan didn’t feel like he needed to respect Emery’s personal boundaries anymore. They’d been lovers once. He knew Emery intimately.
“Tristan,” Emery replied, turning on her heels to face him. Being that close to him; smelling his entrancing cologne, feeling the warmth of his body so close but just shy of touching hers, you would think those old feelings of longing would stir within Emery. Smiling their eyes connected in a way they had so many times before. Tristan desired the familiar. He leaned in; disregarding where they were, lusting after her flesh. Emery remembered he broke her heart.
“Uhn, uhn,” she moaned; tickling his ear. With the same spin on her heels, Emery turned her back leaving Tristan standing there with desire gnawing at his heart.
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