Step with Me: Love Amiss... A Christian Romance (Seaside Chapel Book 2)

by Jan Thompson

  What was it about Emmeline that attracted losers?

  Loser?

  Am I a loser too?

  The evening wind on Jekyll Island was balmy and salty, and the sounds of the ocean were calming. If not for that, Sebastian would’ve lost his focus on the reason for the double date tonight on the rooftop deck of his restaurant.

  It seemed he wasn’t the only one. He gazed at Talia on the other side of the table. She had hardly touched her food. He thought he could see icicles hanging about her and he knew why.

  Sitting next to Talia, her date for the evening—and the man who had yanked her away from Sebastian—was another one of those trust fund brats with Mediterranean islands to inherit from their parents.

  Well, this man whom Talia had spoke highly of had talked to no one but Emmeline since they had all been seated at their open air table.

  “You must come to my house,” Jared said to Emmeline.

  His voice was smooth.

  Talia gasped.

  Jared turned to her. “We’ll all be there, of course, sweetie. I’m talking about that harp in the family room. The one the decorator thought would add to the charm?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” Talia wasn’t amused.

  “She could play it.” Jared pointed to Emmeline. “Tomorrow night. Let’s have another double date. This time at my house.”

  Sebastian noticed that Emmeline wasn’t sure how to respond. Reflexively, he reached for her hand. Held it. It was cool and trembling.

  He felt bad that he had put her in this unscripted situation. He rubbed her hand with his thumb. Slowly, he felt warmth return to her fingers.

  Emmeline took a small sip of water. “Friday? I’m sorry I can’t make it. Rehearsal night.”

  “Rehearsal?” Jared’s eyebrows rose.

  “I’m in the Theater by the Sea,” Emmeline said calmly. “We’re doing some plays this summer starting next weekend. Have you bought your tickets?”

  “I should.” Jared turned to Talia. “We should buy season tickets.”

  “I’m not into plays.” Talia’s reply was curt. Sebastian wondered whether she was jealous of Emmeline’s interaction with Jared.

  “May I—we—watch you rehearse tomorrow night?” Jared asked Emmeline.

  Talia sprung out of her seat. “Excuse me. I’m going to the ladies’ room.”

  Sebastian watched her go. He felt pressure on his hand. What?

  Emmeline was squeezing his hand. He looked at her. She was making some sort of eye gesture to her that was so subtle he couldn’t figure out what in the world she was trying to say.

  Then she wrote with her finger on his palm.

  Two letters: ‘g’ and ‘o.’

  Oh. “Excuse me. I’ll be right back.”

  “Take your time, man.”

  Somehow Jared’s voice grated Sebastian. As he stepped down the stairs to the restrooms below he glanced back to find Jared staring at Emmeline who was leaning back in her chair.

  Sebastian didn’t know why but every fiber in him wanted to punch that smile off Jared’s face.

  By the time he reached the bottom of the stairs, Talia was nowhere to be found. The good news about being a co-owner of Saffron was that everyone knew who Talia was. The maître d’ pointed this way and that and Sebastian found Talia at the bar.

  “Why did you do it, Seb?” she asked as Sebastian sat down beside her.

  “Do what?”

  “Bring Emmeline to take Jared away from me. Do you think that might drive me back to you?”

  “Huh?” Sebastian hoped his surprise appeared genuine.

  The bartender came but Sebastian waved him away. He didn’t drink anymore. He wasn’t against it as evidenced by his own restaurant, but it was a personal decision. It was another rift between him and Talia that might never be reconciled. She was looking for a drinking partner these days, and he didn’t play the game any longer, not since he found out that alcoholism ran on both sides of his family.

  Sadly, it was too late for his parents who perished when their vehicle wrapped around a train locomotive in the middle of the night, leaving him and his sister Skye orphaned and destitute in their early teen years. A compassionate uncle who owned a restaurant took them in and put both of them to work in his restaurant in Jacksonville. In that kitchen, at fourteen years old, Sebastian had known he wanted to be a chef the rest of his life.

  Unfortunately, he hadn’t been cooking much the last several years since he opened Saffron on Jekyll. Talia had talked him into it. Saffron had propelled his—his and Talia’s—restaurant to international status. Soon they had hired a new chef de cuisine so that Sebastian could spend more time managing the restaurant. The restaurant had thrived.

  But it had taken a toll on their relationship.

  And had removed that which he had enjoyed doing the most: cooking.

  “You moved on. I moved on.” It was all Sebastian could think of saying.

  “You had to date a siren.”

  “Em?”

  “Oh so we’re calling her Em now?”

  Sebastian bristled. “You have Jared. I have Em. Yes, Em. What’s your beef, Talia?”

  “Nothing, I guess.”

  “You broke up with me. Almost every time we’ve had this conversation it was because you left me for someone else.”

  Then it dawned on Sebastian. Why hadn’t he seen it before?

  He had been a prop for Talia all along. A fall-back. A backup boyfriend.

  After a bad relationship, Talia would crawl back to Sebastian as if he’d take her back, as if nothing had happened, as if they were meant to be together all their lives.

  And he’d fallen for it every time. Always waiting in the wings, never going anywhere, just hanging around until she called him back into her arms.

  Always.

  “Jared’s just a fling, Seb.”

  “Do I want to hear that?”

  “Is Emmeline a fling? She goes from boyfriend to boyfriend.”

  “I don’t think she does.”

  “Now she’s snagged you.”

  “Snag? That’s a fighting word, Talia.”

  “Call it what you may. She’s still a siren and you’re heading for a shipwreck.”

  “And you’re not?” Sebastian blurted.

  Talia looked stunned.

  Then putting down her drink, she picked up her purse, and walked off toward the front entrance of the restaurant that they had worked together for the last five years to build and establish. She walked past the wall whose colors they had picked together back in the days when they had been together. Back in the days when they had a reason to hang out and make Saffron a successful restaurant.

  Has their relationship been more business than personal? Talia poured money into the restaurant, and Sebastian put his chef skills to the test in the Saffron kitchen. Between the two of them, they had made Saffron an award-winning restaurant.

  Somehow, Sebastian found himself standing in the kitchen watching the hustle and bustle and clangs of stainless steel pots and chefs yelling and hurrying. He felt surreal, as if he was watching an old film reel of happy memories.

  “Hey, boss! Is everything okay?” Chef Onada stopped in front of Sebastian. He was holding a container of vanilla beans.

  Sebastian nodded. “Fine. Stopping by to see how everything is going.”

  “Perfect. Best job in the world.”

  “I agree. Carry on.” Sebastian stepped back as servers passed by him, carrying trays of beautifully plated dishes of scallops and shrimp and fish.

  I miss all these.

  Sebastian wondered what it all meant. He had lost the kitchen and lost Talia. What else would he lose?

  Did these things mean that much to him?

  Losing the kitchen was one thing. He could always rebuild. But losing Talia might be more painful. Or was it?

  He couldn’t feel her anymore.

  Funny.

  It was as though what they had together never been theirs in the first place
. He had known Talia for seventeen years. They had grown into each other. Now they had grown up and grown away from each other.

  Good or bad?

  Sebastian couldn’t remember when he left the kitchen but he found himself in a slow walk up the stairs to the top deck, where he had left Emmeline with Prince Charming.

  Light music—a waltz—floated down toward his ears. He could hear applause amidst the undertones of the nearby ocean waves.

  What’s going on up there?

  At the top of the stairs, Sebastian froze.

  There, right in front of him and everyone else, Emmeline was in the arms of Jared Urquhart whose thighs were lost in Emmeline’s flowing black dress. She looked like an ethereal beauty floating on a dance floor as they twirled around the deck, the June breeze fingering her wavy hair. Above the dancing duo the moon shone.

  Sebastian had a good mind to walk up to them and tap Jared on the shoulder. But he knew better.

  Emmeline is not mine.

  No one is mine.

  I’m all alone, God.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Did you leave the lights on?” Sebastian asked as he parked his car in front of Emmeline’s apartment after that long evening.

  The dinner in his stomach had settled after his shock of having seen Emmeline dancing with Jared on the rooftop a couple of hours before.

  The drive from Jekyll Island to St. Simon’s Island had been quiet, and Sebastian had tried to make small talk until he realized that Emmeline had been dozing off.

  She was awake now as they had reached her dinky apartment. “Huh?”

  “Lights, Em. Did you leave your lights on?” Sebastian asked again.

  “I don’t remember. Why?” Emmeline gathered her purse.

  Sebastian pointed his nose toward second floor balcony. There was that loser again in his bathrobe. He had on headphones, and he was picking his nose.

  “Hope Barf—I mean Bart—up there didn’t enter your apartment while you were gone.”

  Emmeline shrugged. “Sometimes he does. The flowers you sent me? It was on my table when I got home this afternoon.”

  “That’s bad.” I knew it.

  “Don’t worry about me. Take care of yourself and Talia.” Emmeline opened the car door to get out.

  “Let me get the door for you.”

  “No need.” Emmeline was outside the car before Sebastian unbuckled his seat belt.

  A voice came from above. “Hello, Emmeline.”

  Sebastian could hear it with his windows halfway down. Bart’s voice sounded floaty and icky-like.

  “Hi Bart. Staying up late?” Emmeline’s voice was sweet and unassuming.

  “Just making sure you got home safely. We take care of our tenants.”

  “Thank you. I’m fine.”

  Sebastian was about to put his car in reverse when he heard Bart speak again. “Is that your new boyfriend?”

  “Uh-huh.” Emmeline sounded non-committal.

  “If he is why didn’t he kiss you goodnight?”

  Through the windshield, Sebastian saw Emmeline open her purse. Her keys jingled in her fingers. “It’s our first date. Don’t worry, Bart.”

  “If this were our first date, Miss Emmeline, I would’ve kissed you good. So good you’d pass out.”

  Pass what?

  Rats.

  Sebastian turned off the ignition, left the lights on, and stepped out of his car.

  Emmeline’s eyes looked startled in the headlights as he walked toward her, pulled her toward him, glided his fingers past her soft chin and neck and wove them into her hair.

  Oddly, everything felt right, as if this were meant to be between them. He sensed Emmeline relax into his chest as if she were supposed to be there all along.

  Or is she playing the part?

  Sebastian dipped his lips toward hers. She gasped. It was very good acting indeed.

  Bravo, Emmeline.

  Their kiss was so real that Sebastian himself felt it all the way home to his house by the marshes, and then all the way to the morning hours when he woke up to the sound of his alarm clock.

  Had it been a dream? On his bed, he closed his eyes to remember the kiss.

  It hurt because he couldn’t have more of it. He wanted to drive back to Emmeline’s apartment to draw her into his arms again. And again.

  It was a terrible thing to be thinking about for a moral Christian man who was supposed to be in love with someone else.

  In love? With whom?

  Somehow Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to imagine kissing Talia anymore now that he had tasted what a heartfelt kiss felt like.

  Then again, what if Talia was right?

  Was Emmeline a siren and was he heading for a shipwreck?

  After all, Sebastian had made a deal with Emmeline to put on a show.

  This is not real. This is make-believe.

  Sebastian should call off the whole ruse, and confess to Talia that he had done it to get back at her and to get her back.

  Yet it wasn’t Talia he wanted to talk to. It was Emmeline he wanted to see and be with.

  What is happening to me?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sebastian had broken all of Emmeline’s ground rules. No touching. No hugging. No kissing. They had both agreed on one exception: hand-holding. But that was all.

  Now he had done all three with her, and Emmeline wondered how long it would take before they broke the fourth wall and exposed the entire charade to Talia.

  If that happened, would Sebastian blame her for failing her end of the bargain? Would he still help her to find her brother Claude?

  Emmeline decided that it would be in their best interest if they stuck to the script.

  Well, first she had to know what Sebastian’s script was. He seemed to be playing it by ear. He was most affected by what Talia’s new boyfriend, for instance, in the Scrolls bookstore that Tuesday afternoon.

  In the bookstore, Emmeline herself had been making her way to the café when several customers stopped her to ask for help. In between going here and there to find books and gifts, she had tried to see what was going on. She had seen enough, how Sebastian looked when Jared and Talia made out in front of him.

  Perhaps they were putting on a scene for him too.

  Then there was that dinner on Friday night. Sebastian had been positively frowning when Emmeline had danced with Jared. No idea why, really. Why would he be upset? Wasn’t the whole idea to get Talia back?

  For all practical purposes, the double date had backfired. Instead of Talia getting back together with Sebastian, Jared and Talia had left the restaurant alone, and Sebastian was still with Emmeline.

  Oddly, Sebastian seemed happy to be with her.

  And what was that about when Bart had taunted Sebastian and he took the bait outside her apartment? He should’ve left her alone and gone home.

  Now Bart might think she was easy.

  What’s done is done.

  Squeaking wheels broke her muse, and Emmeline blinked. Oh yes, she was pushing a cart of music folders to a rehearsal room at the SISO building.

  The long hallway, stark and tunnel-like, made Emmeline’s mind wander into something else more interesting.

  Over the weekend, she had been browsing through online advertisements, searching for a van to transport her harp. She couldn’t ride her bicycle all the time. It rained in Georgia and the roads would be treacherous for cyclists, rain gear notwithstanding.

  The last thing she wanted were offers from willing Bart and Rafferty to carry her harp for her when it rained. She might accept rides from Jared, maybe, but just because he looked nice and clean it didn’t mean he was a winner.

  There isn’t any good man around!

  Good? She remembered what the Bible said. There was no one good but God.

  Emmeline suddenly realized she was standing in the middle of the rehearsal room, holding a stack of music folders in her hands, facing all those music stands and seats, and daydreaming.


  She scolded herself and got moving. Quickly, without tripping over anything in the tight space, she finished putting the music folders on the stands. Then she went back to her cart, picked up more folders, and filled the rest of the music stands. This was for tomorrow evening’s rehearsal—which didn’t include harp music, unfortunately.

  If SISO had used more harps in their repertoires, she’d be paid more.

  Oh well.

  The clock on the wall said it was five. She hadn’t had dinner, but there was no time to walk home and eat. She was behind by an hour because she had been practicing her harp for the Brock-Flannagan wedding that coming Saturday.

  Without a car, she had to depend on someone else’s benevolence to pick her up and take her to the Theater by the Sea rehearsal tonight at Rafferty’s house. Emmeline wished she could avoid Rafferty altogether but he had an empty basement that led out to a patio with plenty of outdoor space for seventeen people to rehearse.

  Nigel and Misty Miller had started Theater by the Sea with their own funds, and anything anyone could contribute or donate always helped the fledgling theatrical troupe. Later in the fall, after Emmeline had gone back to school, Theater by the Sea would tour the southeastern United States with members who could afford to take time off from work.

  Either way, she’d be done with Rafferty’s unwelcome attention.

  Meanwhile, there’s tonight.

  Rafferty would probably be over-prepared with his rendition of Mr. Darcy. Well, Emmeline wasn’t going to give him any leeway about it. She could be professional and as long as Nigel was satisfied with her performance, she could pull off a don’t-touch-me Regency evening.

  In fact, she decided she would cosplay Elizabeth Bennet the entire evening and treat Rafferty like the Mr. Collins he should be. That should throw him off.

  She rolled the cart back to the music library, turned off the lights, and locked the door. She checked the doorknob again. Just in case.

  Of course, it’s locked.

  At the vending machine, she bought a ham sandwich and a bottle of Coke. She had about twenty minutes before Nigel and Misty Miller picked her up from the SISO studio

  Emmeline liked the Millers. Nigel was like an older brother to her. Misty was soft-spoken except when she was on stage. Then she was a veritable Mrs. Bennet fit for film. Emmeline often thought that Misty could go far, even to the Alliance Theater in Atlanta and beyond.