Emilie quickly pulled out her camera and began taking snapshots for the Blackmail Scrapbook.
“Is that the Lawnmower?” Lana asked in a slightly horrified voice.
“And the Running Man,” Emilie laughed. “Ooh, and there goes the Sprinkler!”
Despite her lack of skill, the crowd was unmistakably behind Kate’s impromptu entertainment. Kate lapped up the catcalls and whoops of encouragement, bobbing her head excitedly and causing the veil to tip precariously over her left ear. Laughing maniacally, she ripped the offending material off her head and threw it to her audience, earning her more cheers.
Undoubtedly enjoying all the attention, she began to enthusiastically shake her moneymaker and plead with “her peeps” to join her as she sang along, loudly and off-key.
Kate abruptly stopped her screeching serenade to survey the crowd before her eyes landed on Emilie and Lana. “Buddies! Come dance with me!”
Lana was firmly shaking her head no when, to her eternal shock, Emilie grabbed her hand and began towing her towards the bar. “Come on,” Emilie called over her shoulder. “We’re only young once!”
With a grin, Lana managed to slip her phone to Sara, a not-quite-so-annoying friend from high school. Since it seemed highly unlikely that lightening would strike Emilie twice, Lana wanted to make sure this was recorded for posterity. Seconds later, Lana and Emilie found themselves being lifted onto the bar beside Kate, who greeted them with a hug before recommencing her “sexy” dance.
Emilie watched for a second before doing a little hip shimmy and joining in. Lana obligingly mimicked her friends’ movements, and they playfully entertained the crowd, who were soon giving them lots of “yeah baby” and “you-go-girl” shouts of encouragement. The song was winding down when one of the bolder souls held up a dollar bill, inspiring Kate to bend down and accept it with her teeth. Lana winced when Kate growled around the germ infested paper in her mouth. Eww.
Kate was lying on her stomach, attempting to do the Worm, when the song mercifully ended after the most hilarious three minutes Lana could ever recall having on top of a bar. With a pronounced wail of displeasure at having her fun cut short, Kate reluctantly climbed down from her perch to loud applause and whistles of appreciation.
“Thank you, thank you very much,” she said with a theatrical wave of her hand. She gave her final bow on a teetering bar stool and then hopped down as the wood gave an ominous crack. Giggling, Kate turned as Lana and Emilie jumped down and practically fell into her arms.
When they arrived back to their table, Sara handed Lana her phone. “You have to post this so we can all watch it at the next reunion,” she said with a grin. “You guys are hilarious!”
“Wait, post what?” Appalled, Emilie tried to grab the phone, but Kate managed to get it first.
Kate’s mouth was soon hanging open in horror. “Is this really what I look like?”
Emilie and Lana leaned closer to watch with her. When the video reached the point where they joined her on the bar, Kate laughed out loud. “Wow, Em. You have clearly been hiding your light under a bushel. You’ve got some smokin’ moves!”
“I am never leaving the house again!” Emilie exclaimed with a blush. “I’ll die of embarrassment.”
Kate shook her head and grinned. “You’re looking at this all wrong, dear.”
“She’s right,” agreed Lana. “If anyone needs to die of embarrassment, it’s Kate.”
“Ha, true,” Kate chuckled, not offended in the least. Suddenly, her eyes became disconcertingly calculated. “You know, I think Sara has a point — our evening festivities should be shared with the world at large.”
“Um, no,” Emilie stated flatly. “Not gonna happen. I work with children!”
Lana grinned at Kate’s exaggerated look of disappointment. “I guess you’re right,” Kate sighed. “We’ll have to just keep it between us. And Ethan.”
“What? No!” Eyes as wide as saucers, Emilie blindly reached for the phone, but Kate had already pushed Send by the time Emilie was able to wrest it from her grip. Lana had to physically pull Emilie away from Kate, though Emilie did manage to come away with a chunk of blonde hair for her troubles.
“Cheer up, Emmy.” Kate, in a mellow mood thanks to all the tequila in her system, did not seem to mind being tackled at all. “I just helped you out in a big way.”
Emilie shrugged off Lana’s hands, her fury melting into a kind of dream-like state of dread. “How on earth does sending a naughty video to my…whatever Ethan is…help me?”
Kate grinned and patted Emilie’s hand. “That video basically guarantees that my idiot cousin will never leave your side again, at least not without frequent-to-the-point-of-obnoxious check-in’s whenever he is away. Even he’s not that dumb.”
Impressed, Lana patted Kate on the back. “That’s actually kind of brilliant!”
Emilie was plainly searching for a flaw in Kate’s logic when her own phone started ringing. She took it out of her purse, apprehension painting her face. Sure enough, not twenty seconds after Kate’s stunt, Ethan was finally calling.
“Ha!” Kate pointed her finger at Emilie. “I knew it!”
Rolling her eyes, Emilie put the phone to her ear. “Why, hello, Ethan.”
She abruptly pulled it back, allowing Lana, Kate, and about half of the people in the bar to hear the irate ravings of a possessive man.
“What the hell is happening up there? I leave you alone for one week and all hell breaks loose! Are you listening to me? Who took that video? Why were all those men pawing at you? What were you doing dancing on a bar? Where’s Kate — I am going to ring her damn neck!”
Grinning with delight, Emilie calmly said into the phone, “I’m sorry, honey, but I’m very busy having fun without you right now, so I don’t have time to chat. Perhaps you could call back at a more convenient time?”
Before Ethan could reply she had snapped the phone shut and shoved it back into her purse.
“Kate,” she said, “I do believe I have never loved anyone quite as much as I love you in this moment.”
Kate reached for her tenth drink and guzzled the rest of it down in one gulp. “Ah,” she said contentedly. “This is an excellent party, maids of honor. You have done well.” She gave Lana and Emilie little pats on their heads.
“Glad you like it, sweetie,” said Lana. “Although you might want to take it down a notch with the margaritas — the night is still young.”
“Pshaw.” Kate breezily motioned to the waitress that she wanted another. “I’m not even feeling it!”
“Whatever you say, Kate,” said Emilie. “You’re in charge.”
Her sarcasm was lost on Kate, who earnestly nodded her agreement. “Thank you, Emilie,” she said as solemnly as her tipsiness would let her.
Her gravity was somewhat marred by the sight of her crooked, hopelessly wrinkled top hanging off of one shoulder, allowing the strap of her serviceable white bra to stand out like a beacon, and her wild hair, puffy and full of static from the loss of the veil, standing on end.
“You know,” slurred Kate. “I really needed this. I have been so stressed out lately with all this wedding crap and the sneaking away to meet up with Jase. It’s draining!”
“You don’t say,” said Emilie.
“I do say.” Kate pulled Emilie and Lana into a loose hug and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Can I tell you guys a secret?”
Lana gave her an incredulous look that clearly said what more could you possibly be hiding?
“Go on,” Emilie said cautiously.
“Well,” Kate said with a gusty sigh of relief. “You know the whole Jase situation?”
“Is that the situation where you sleep with him behind the backs of your best friends and fiancé, thus exposing yourself to innumerable diseases and, if Mrs. Tate has been speaking the truth all these years, a lifetime of hellfire?” Emilie asked.
“That’s the one,” Kate nodded blithely. “Okay, so the sex used to b
e really good when we were in college. I mean really good. The things we did to each other! All those twisty positions and bendy—”
“We get it,” Lana cut her off. Emilie grinned.
“But it’s just not the same now.” Kate was looking at them with such drunken sincerity that they were hard-pressed not to laugh.
“Maybe you feel too guilty to really enjoy it,” suggested Emilie.
Kate cocked her head and considered that for a moment. “No, that’s not it.”
Lana couldn’t stop the snort that emerged at that, and Emilie gave her an amused look of censure as Kate declared, “I think it’s not as good because he decided we needed to spice things up.”
“Spice things up, how?” asked Lana.
“Well.” Kate leaned in even closer. “He likes to talk. A lot.”
Emilie gave her blank look. “Talk about what? The weather?”
“No, no, no! He likes to talk dirty,” Kate whisper-shouted.
Lana and Emilie made identical O’s with their mouths as several people turned around to briefly stare at Kate. Kate, fully oblivious to the attention she had garnered, gravely proceeded to share her reservations about Jase’s strange bedside manner. “It really creeps me out! The first time it happened, I ignored it and hoped he would just, you know, take the hint.”
“But he didn’t,” guessed Lana.
“Nope! He does it all the time now.” Kate shook her head sadly. “His voice gets all deep and he starts saying things he must have seen in a dirty movie about my girly parts and what he wants to do to them, and it makes me laugh at exactly the wrong time!”
Lana and Emilie covered their mouths, but not before several gurgles of laughter escaped.
“It is NOT funny!” Kate shouted. “It is the most unfunny thing that has ever happened to me. It completely throws me off my game and entirely ruins the mood, and then the only fun part of my week goes down the drain!”
Emilie pressed her lips together and tried to look sympathetic to Kate’s plight. Lana didn’t even try.
“I’m sorry Kate, but that’s just about the funniest thing you have ever told us.”
Kate crossed her arms and pouted. “Is not.”
“Yeah, sweetie, it kind of is.” Emilie gently rubbed Kate’s arm. “I’m pretty sure we could discern some sort of cosmic significance about the ramifications of cheating in there somewhere, too.”
Kate glared. “Let’s not.”
Emilie nodded agreeably, picking up Kate’s drink and pushing it into her eager hands. “Have a drink and chill. We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Tonight, it’s your party.”
“And I’ll get sloshed if I want to.” After taking another deep gulp of the frosty concoction, Kate reluctantly smiled. “I guess it is a little funny, huh?” she said sheepishly.
“Oh, yeah.” Lana sat down on the stool next to Kate. “It’s freakin’ hilarious, girl. Now tell us exactly what he says.”
Chapter 21
Her cell phone rang for the twentieth time in as many minutes as Emilie tossed the last of her dusty, unused school supplies into a plastic bin and wiped her hands on her jeans. Approximately thirty seconds later the phone rang yet again, causing her to mutter a mild oath under her breath.
If it was, as she suspected, Kate calling with yet another asinine, wedding-related snafu, then she could just pipe down and wait until tonight to bombard Emilie with more of her hysterics. She had been calling all week with requests and concerns about her gown, the photographer, and her fiancé’s sickening odor and the possible negative effect it could have on the wedding day. Emilie had already explained that the dress was hanging safely in her closet, steamed and ready to go, the photographer had confirmed his time of arrival yesterday, and Will was going to have to take two showers and scrub with a lemon-scented loofah if Kate had any hope of avoiding the cheesy smell.
Emilie had already endured a twenty-five minute conversation with her mom earlier that morning about Emilie’s need for a guy who truly appreciated her “unique qualities.” Her mother had then informed her that if that guy proved to be a tall, emerald eyed ex-Marine with an unfortunate mental block when it came to proper telephone etiquette, then Emilie would just have to “get over” her intractable habit of always thinking the worst of him.
This sounded dreadfully tiresome. It seemed increasingly likely that it was also unavoidable, but Emilie had refrained from telling her mom that. No sense giving the woman the right to say “I told you so” any more than was strictly necessary.
Moving toward the bookshelf under the chalkboard with a sigh, Emilie carefully packed various YA novels away for the next school year. She had spent the morning grading her final exams and saying goodbye to all of the eighth graders who would be moving on to high school in the fall, and now she was performing the tedious task of cleaning out her classroom for summer break. Kate’s rehearsal dinner was tonight, and Emilie wanted to get everything done at school today so she wouldn’t have to come back for a couple of months.
Snapping a lid on the last of her book bins, Emilie sat back on her heels and stared unseeing at the nearly empty classroom. Taking advantage of her rare alone-time, she’d spent most of her afternoon mulling over Lana’s words of advice from Saturday. It had taken most of the day to do it, but Emilie had finally, grudgingly, forced herself to face the fact that Lana was right.
For as long as she could remember, Emilie had practically ached with the need to be with Ethan, only to turn around and do everything in her power to keep him at a distance when it began to seem like he might want the same thing. It was like she was physically incapable of allowing herself to be happy. That, in a word, sucked…and she didn’t want to be that way anymore. She’d already come to terms with the fact that she wanted to be with him. Now she just had to deal with the fact that being with him meant accepting the possibility of pain in the future if she wanted to be happy in the present. Like it or not, she loved the guy. And if Ethan would ever answer his cell phone, she was prepared to tell him so.
If he still wants you at all, the annoyingly insecure voice in her head grumbled. He had certainly seemed serious about wanting her for keeps that day in her apartment. But now, nearly two weeks later, her inner snark demon couldn’t help but wonder if, now that the chase was over and he had very clearly won, Ethan had left on that assignment and realized that he had finally gotten her out of his system for good.
Emilie banged her head against the chalkboard with a muffled groan. Moving past years of self-doubt was proving much harder than anticipated.
She did feel entitled to a little irritation with Ethan, though, since she wouldn’t be feeling quite so neurotic had he simply returned her calls. Once she had managed to squelch her abandonment issues down to a bare minimum and call him back after Kate’s Bachelorette Party, his lack of immediate response had been disheartening. However, when Emilie had forced herself to think about his behavior calmly and rationally, she had been taken with the sneaking suspicion that Ethan might be trying to subtly punish her for avoiding him all those months after Valentine’s Day.
She probably deserved it, but it was still deeply annoying.
Still pondering how best to torment Ethan for his attempt to torment her, Emilie absently reached for her cell phone, which was ringing insistently yet again.
Lost in thought, she didn’t bother to look at the number before putting the phone to her ear. “Yes?”
“Why don’t you ever pick up when I call?”
Already regretting the decision to answer, Emilie rolled her eyes in distaste and attempted to shove the remaining five bins full of school supplies, books, and various papers she might need at some future date out the door and down the hall while still keeping a cool head with the dumbass on the other line. Owing in no small part to the fact that he seemed convinced Ethan would murder him if he put one toe out of line, Leo had stopped being so weird and stalker-y. And aside from the occasional calls and longing gazes every time she stepped foot
into a faculty meeting, Emilie rarely noticed him anymore.
She had no idea why he would choose this moment to call her again, but she had a feeling that God was simply bored and, thus, eager for a laugh at her expense. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, Emilie calmly said, “I’m cleaning out my classroom. Aren’t you?”
There was a long pause before Leo finally muttered, “I had her clean out the room for me.”
Emilie almost laughed. Almost. “What an efficient little slave you have,” she said dryly. It was quite clear to her that she and Leo would never have lasted as a couple, if only because Emilie would have never been willing to fetch him his slippers on command the way Twiglet did.
“I didn’t call to talk about her,” he whined. “Why do you always start a fight?”
At her pointed silence, he groaned loudly. “Come on, Emilie, I miss you. I haven’t talked to you in weeks. Are you avoiding me or something?”
“Yes, Leo. Because my entire life is obviously centered on you, and therefore every decision and action I make revolves around you,” she said acerbically.
She could practically hear him sulking and her face scrunched up in disgust, both with him and with herself. Lana had been right about Leo as well — nothing about him was even remotely attractive and she couldn’t for the life of her understand how she had ever managed to convince herself otherwise.
“Did you call me for something specific?” she asked with a sigh. “Kate’s wedding is tomorrow and I still have a million things to do.”
Having reached the side exit, Emilie managed to heave the boxes out into the bright May sunshine and into her waiting car by holding her phone in her mouth. Unfortunately, his voice was still coming through crystal clear.
“Typical,” he said dismissively. “You’re willing to run yourself ragged for her, but you can’t even make time for your own boyfriend. Your priorities are really jacked up.”
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