What The Heart Knows

by Gadziala, Jessica

  “So what are you gonna do about it?”

  “What do you mean what am I gonna do about it? There's nothing to be done. He's gone. He's out there bagging a new girl every night. He isn't sitting around thinking about me.”

  “Red, take this from someone who has had the pleasure of getting sweaty with you,” he said, putting a hand over hers on the bar top. “it's not possible to sit around and not think about you.”

  “Yeah okay,” Emily said, sipping at her drink more slowly.

  “I'm serious. You're a piece of work. You're impossible with your smart mouth and your stubbornness and...”

  “Is this supposed to be a pep talk?” Emily grumbled.

  “Wait for it,” Dane laughed. “You are all those things, but the challenge is half the fun. You are so different. You're like...”

  “A rose in a field full of daisies?” Emily teased, enjoying Dane trying to express himself.

  “Don't push it,” Dane rolled his eyes. “You're like a riddle. And guys get fucking obsessed with trying to figure you out. And,” he said, smirking. “you're a phenomenal lay.”

  “Oh, gee, thanks,” Emily snorted.

  “I'm serious. Your blowjobs can make a man suddenly speak another language.”

  “Shut up,” Emily said, glancing over at the other bartender and the man sitting at the end of the bar, pretending not to be listening.

  “You didn't play that card, did you? Woman,” Dane said, looking at her like she was an idiot. “that is the deal sealer. You should start with that shit. Just say your hi hellos and drop to your knees.”

  “I am not going to make a guy fall in love with me by sucking his dick,” she said, slapping a hand to her mouth as soon as the words were out.

  “Fall in love with?” Dane asked, putting the gin back on the bar and grabbing the tequila. “Jesus,” he said, filling shot glasses. “you need something with more burn than gin. Bottoms up,” he said, clinking his glass with hers. Emily sputtered, reaching for a lime only to have Dane slap her hand away. “Get the fuck out of here with that fruit. I'm gone for six months and you forget how to drink?” he asked, refilling the shot glasses. “So... love?”

  “I don't love him,” she said, running her tongue over the roof of her mouth, gauging it's numbness and, therefore, her drunkenness. “I don't,” she added, taking in Dane's disbelieving glare. “I barely know him. There was just... I don't know. There was something there, you know? Like... I don't know. There was this connection. This... feeling occasionally.”

  “I'm listening,” Dane said, waiting for her to continue.

  “I don't know. Like the second time we,” he glanced down the bar and lowered her voice. “had sex. Just like the whole time was this weird, otherworldly sensation. Like... my body recognized his or something. It sounds stupid.”

  “It doesn't sound stupid,” Dane said, straightening. “wishy washy as hell, but not stupid.” He slipped their rocks glasses into the sink underneath the bar. “So what is going on now? He's gone. I'm assuming that is, at least in part, because he thinks you're riding my pony.”

  Emily laughed. “Yeah, thanks for that by the way. You could have tried to explain who you were, you know. But anyway, yeah. He's gone. Back to EM Corp. Sending me snippy emails.”

  “Well that's something.”

  “How is that something?”

  “Because men aren't like women. You all are crazy. Even when you would never, ever take a guy back, you talk shit and stalk them online. It's weird and obsessive. But that's beside the point. The point is men don't do that shit. Not when we are done with you. True, you might be a story we tell buddies over beers some day. But we aren't going out of our way to screw with your lives. We just don't care enough anymore to do that. So if he's doing that, he is still invested.”

  “Yeah well he's also invested in...”

  “Sticking his cock into as many snatches as possible?” Dane finished. “Can you blame him? He wants you. He cant have you. He's horny as hell because of that. He can't be expected to act like a saint. He's going to try to see if he can forget about you... with a pussy picnic.”

  “Wow, Dane. You're so eloquent. You're making my knees weak,” she said, drawling her words out as sarcastically as she could manage.

  “Oh, yeah,” Dane chuckled. “your poor virgin ears.”

  “So what now, then? He's hours and hours away. I am not just going to be running into him when I go out to get milk. And I cant show up there. That would be creepy.”

  “Yeah that is problematic,” Dane allowed. “I mean, he's your boss though. Create some situation that he needs to show up to deal with.”

  “He'd probably just tell me to deal with it. He seems to really enjoy playing the boss card lately.”

  “Hmm...” Dane said, grabbing a rag and wiping the surface of the bar.

  “Dane Joseph Broderick,” Maude's voice called from the doorway. Behind her, the light streamed in making her resemble some kind of higher power. Her voice sounded angry.

  Dane had the good sense to look penitent and boyish. “Mama Maude,” he said, his tone taking on the sickeningly sweet charm she had heard him use on countless unsuspecting women before.

  “Oh, no, boy,” Maude said, slamming the door and walking against the floor toward them. “Nope. That don't work on me. I've gotten puppy eyes and sweet words from every good lookin' boy in this town. I ought to drag you out here and box your ears for taking off like that. I called your Mama down in Florida and she didn't know where you took off to either.”

  Emily took the shot Dane had poured as soon as Maude closed the door. “How are you just finding out he's here now?” Emily asked. “He's been here like two weeks.”

  “I was out in New York City seeing a gentlemen friend of mine,” she told them, lifting her chin. “What? You thought I didn't have a man in my life? I got men in my life. Plenty of them.”

  Emily scrunched her face up at the idea. Mother figures weren't allowed to talk about their sex lives. That was supposed to be some kind of rule.

  “But don't try to get me off subject. You,” she said, pointing a finger at him. “you are in big trouble. I am telling everyone about that underwear ad you did in California.”

  “Underwear?” Emily asked, her face looking something like a child's on Christmas morning. “It was an underwear ad?”

  “You,” Maude said, looking at Emily like she just realized she was there. “What are you still doing here?”

  “I'm... having a drink with Dane?” Emily half-asked, half-declared.

  “I had a dream last night,” she said, looking at Emily with knowing eyes. “About a baby fish swimming to it's parents.”

  Dane quirked up an eyebrow. “What the fuck is this Finding Nemo gibberish?”

  Fish. Emily fought through her alcohol haze. A fish meant fertility. Babies. A fish swimming to it's parents...

  “Hannah,” she gasped and Maude nodded.

  Emily glanced at Dane, then back at Maude and then she was running out of the bar, down the street, to the inn, grabbing for the phone and dialing as quickly as her tingling fingertips would allow.

  Twenty-One

  Emily wasn't sober enough to drive until early the next morning. She spent the night throwing clothes into bags and telling Meggie and Dev they were going to have to figure things out with the schedule. That she needed to go see the squishy pink baby that Elliott and Hannah's love had made.

  The drive was long, stifling in its solitude. Then the reality dawned on her slowly. Elliott was the father. James was the uncle. James seemed to be living in that area now. And the baby just left the hospital that morning. So... chances were she was going to be running into him.

  She looked down at her baggy sweater and ripped blue jeans with a curse. She was going to need to stop somewhere and change. Because no matter how silly and vain it was, she wanted to give him a good look at what he was missing out on.

  Her na
vigation announced she was there and she parked her car with a shake of her head. Of course he lived in a lavish house. She wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but this house was unnecessarily large for three people.

  She got out of her car, taking a good look at her reflection in the window. She had eventually chosen to stop and buy a new outfit, deciding everything she packed was too frumpy to work. The trip to the store had been a frustrating experience, never really worrying too much before about what to wear to make a man notice her.

  In the end she settled on a simple black sweater dress, tight with a cowl neck. It was short on her long legs, falling at about mid-thigh and she got opaque black tights to wear under it. She bought a pair of black high heel boots with silver buckles on the side to complete the ensemble, paid for it all, then went into the mall bathroom to change. She let her hair down, applied mascara, and slid on a slick natural shade of gloss to her lips.

  She had stepped back from the mirror to inspect herself, ending up happier than she thought she would be. A teenage girl was washing her hands in the sink and smiled at her reflection. “Whoever he is,” she said. “he's going to be eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  That was exactly the plan.

  Emily grabbed the gift bags out of her front seat: one for the baby, one for the mommy, and the bottle of congratulatory scotch with a silver bow on it for the daddy. She walked up the path and hit the bell, waiting with a pounding heart for someone to answer.

  The door opened slowly to reveal a very tired looking Elliott Michaels, his tie pulled low, his suit wrinkled. He looked surprised to see her for a second and then let his eyes drop down, taking in her outfit, moving very slowly back up to her face. A slow, knowledgeable smirk toyed at his lips.

  “Good for you,” he said quietly.

  Emily smiled. “Congratulations, Daddy,” she said, holding out the bottle of scotch for him to take.

  “Thanks,” he said, smiling warmly at her and for the first time, she saw the softness that Hannah talked about. “Come on in, we're all in the sitting room.”

  Emily followed him in, trying not to openly gawk at the house that Hannah had been calling home for the past two years. To the right of the door was an office, huge bookshelves lining the far wall behind a desk. Elliott walked toward the right into a sitting room decorated sparsely, for formality. For company.

  Hannah was sitting on a couch, a blanketed bundle in her arms. She looked as gorgeous as ever, her waist length black hair falling down the sides of her face with sharp cheekbones and lovely gray eyes. She was dressed in a loose pink silk pajama set with a fluffy white robe on over it.

  “Hannah,” Elliott said quietly, as if terrified he might scare the baby to death with the full timbre of his voice. “Emily is here.”

  It was at that moment that she saw James. Sitting on another couch, looking over at the baby. He had a pair of gray slacks on and a black tucked-in dress shirt, the top button left open. He was way too good looking. And then she saw that he wasn't alone on that couch. Next to him, with her hand placed indiscreetly on his thigh, was another of his women.

  She was as gorgeous as all the others. This one was blonde, her hair cut in a long bob around her perfectly delicate heart-shaped face. She had pouting small lips and big blue eyes. Everything about her was petite. Thin shoulders, small waist, short. She wore a pair of black skinny jeans and a simple cobalt blue sweater. Looking effortless. But still breathtaking.

  At her name, James' face snapped up and she got to have a moment of satisfaction of seeing his mouth fall slightly open while he looked at her. It was brief, but she saw it. His mouth fell into a hard line, reaching over and grabbing his date's hand, squeezing it in his.

  “Miss. Brennan,” he said, nodding his head at her.

  “Mr. Michaels,” she responded, and it sounded less like his name and more like a 'fuck you'. She turned deliberately from him, finding her oldest friend, her face spreading into a genuinely happy smile. “Hanny,” she said, walking quietly across the wood floor to sit down carefully next to her on the couch.

  “I'm so happy you're here,” Hannah said, her tone having a deeper meaning that only Emily could interpret as: can you believe he brought that random skank to my house?

  “You look gorgeous, Mama,” Emily said, peeking down into the blankets, seeing a squishy peach face with a white hat and white clothes. Hannah had been one of those moms. One of the ones who wouldn't tell you the sex or the name or anything until it was born. Though she herself had known since she was five months along. “I brought you a bunch of Annabelle Goode's soaps and lotions and balms. She actually came out with something for stretch marks and something for... well nursing issues,” she said discreetly. “Alright, I want it,” she said, holding out gimme hands toward the baby.

  Hannah smiled, shifting the bundle and placed it into Emily's waiting hands. “His name is Isaac.”

  “A boy,” Emily said, smiling down at him. “Just wait till you get older. I have so much to tell you about girls.”

  He tried not to watch her. He really did.

  He couldn't have even fathomed that she would be there. Not that quickly. It was such a far drive. Someone must have called her and told her when Hannah went into labor. He himself hadn't even gotten a call to early that morning. A clipped, but happy sounding Elliott saying that the baby was there and that they would be heading home in an hour if he wanted to stop by to see it.

  Which was why Allie was still with him. He had been in such a rush to see his nephew that he hadn't even thought to drop her off. He had pretty much forgotten she was even there with him until Elliott announced that Emily was there.

  And damn if she didn't look like she stepped out of a friggen fashion ad. The dress clung to her lithe body, her long legs on full display, her stunning red hair cascading over her shoulders. She even had makeup on, making her blue eyes pop and her lips beg to be kissed.

  He shook his head to clear it on his wandering thoughts. He needed to keep it together. Things were just starting to fall into a new kind of normalcy. Work. Alcohol. Women. Reminders in between not to think about her.

  That last email had made him spit coffee over his desk and computer screen, Carter laughing at him and telling him that's what he got for making him deal with that Adalaine woman. And she had CC'd Elliott. Sometimes he really underestimated her. It was a threat: back the fuck off with that superior boss nonsense or I am going to make your life a nightmare. He respected that.

  James sank his teeth into his cheek, reaching over and grabbing Allie's hand in his.

  Mr. Michaels. Who knew his own name could sound like a slap in the face?

  She seemed so at ease with Isaac. Like she had held dozens of babies in her time. Like it came as second nature to her. He wondered how that was possible when she wasn't close with her family. Was it just something that happened when you lived in a small town? Did you just hold all the babies?

  Hannah reached out and put a hand on Emily's knee, whispering quietly so no one else could hear. “What the hell happened in Stars Landing?”

  Emily shrugged a shoulder. “Dane happened,” Emily shook her head.

  “Dane? Dane Broderick? What does he have to do with anything? I mean I knew you guys were friends... but how could he mess up...”

  “Dane and I were more than friends. Less than together, but more than friends for like... a year. Until one day he up and left for California to become... wait for it,” she said, smiling wickedly. “an underwear model.”

  Hannah threw her head back and laughed, clutching her belly in the process, grumbling about it hurting to laugh, but not being able to stop herself. “Oh that's great. I want evidence,” Hannah said, wiping tears from her face, waving a hand at the others who looked like they wanted to be in on their private conversation. “So what happened?”

  “He showed up. In my room. Half naked. 'Cause, ya know, that's totally what you do after six months. And, well...�
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  “Ahh,” Hannah nodded. “I see. That explains a lot actually.” She glanced over at James who looked absolutely miserable, casting sideways glances at Em anytime she wasn't looking. “So,” she said, louder, including everyone again. “how the heck did you know the baby was here?” she asked. “We were going to call you as soon as we got settled, but we just didn't get a chance.”

  “Maude,” Emily shrugged. “she had a dream about a fish.”

  “Oh,” Hannah said, nodding like that made all the sense in the world. “that explains it.” She reached for the baby as he started stirring in Emily's arms. “I'm such a bad host,” she said, a strange edge to her voice that Emily distrusted immediately. “I should be offering you a drink...”

  “I'll put some coffee on,” Emily said, standing. “just point me toward the kitchen.” The second she said it, there was a light in Hannah's eyes and she knew what she was in for.

  “James,” Hannah said, smiling innocently. “do you mind showing Emily to the kitchen?”

  Emily lowered her eyes at Hannah, James looked queasy, and Allie looked horrified at the idea of being stuck alone in the room with two people she didn't even know.

  “Sure, Hannah-Banana,” he said, sending her a tight smile. He held out an arm toward the doorway and Emily fell into stiff step next to him.

  She was going to murder Hannah. That was really the only retribution harsh enough for this kind of betrayal. She never remembered Hannah playing love games. That wasn't her thing. Damn her. She wasn't prepared.

  James walked her into the hall and toward the back of the house where they encountered a huge, very white and stainless steel kitchen.

  Emily spotted the coffee machine and walked over to it. James stayed there, leaning up against a wall, watching her. In complete, infuriating silence.

  She poured the fresh water into the reservoir, cleaned out the filter, put a new one in (which were conveniently piled in a basket beside the machine. But the coffee was MIA. She reached up into the cabinet above the machine but found nothing but coffee cups. She dropped back onto her heels, taking a deep breath. Lord how she didn't want to have to ask him for help. And damn him because he knew what she needed and he was just going to stand there and wait until she asked for help.