Chapter 17
Emma yawned and reached for her coffee cup, giving it a look when she saw it was almost empty. She’d been up late with Cole the night before, and though it was worth it, she was tired at work today.
She was in the middle of a design project, so the marginal break room coffee would have to do. She scrolled through her phone as she walked that way, rolling her eyes when she saw a missed call from Layla. What more could she possibly have to say after last night? She’d been so rude to Dani.
Emma dialed her sister back, hoping she’d be busy and the call would go to voicemail, but Layla answered.
“Hey, Em,” she said.
“Hi.” Emma was cool and guarded. Layla sighed deeply on the other end of the line.
“I’m sorry about last night,” she said. “I want to call Dani and apologize to her, too. I really don’t have any excuse.”
“I don’t get any of it, Layla,” Emma said hotly. “Why you’d be so bitchy to my friend or to me, even if it was ten years ago. It just brings back all the hurt I felt back then.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Emma wondered if the call had dropped. Layla was never at a loss for words.
“I’m sorry, Em,” Layla finally said. “I’ve been thinking about it constantly since last night. I lied about Cole after prom night because I was ashamed. I really liked him a lot. More than I let on to anyone. When he asked me to prom at the last minute, I was so excited. I’d wanted to be his girlfriend since the day they moved in. Cole was always more than just a hot guy to me. He’s got a sweet side and I love that he’s kind of intense and secretive. I wanted to get closer to him and I knew that was my chance. I tried so hard at prom to show him I was worth being with.”
Layla’s voice cracked with emotion, and Emma’s heart sank.
“I wanted him to be my first. I thought he’d see … I just thought it would change things, make him want to be with me, even though he was leaving for college. But he stopped. He said he liked me a lot, but didn’t want any attachments back home when he left. I know I was just a stupid 17-year-old, Em, but I was devastated. I went to a party and screwed John Jeurgens thinking I’d show Cole. It was awful – a huge mistake. And when I woke up the next morning, I told you what I wished was the truth.”
“Layla,” Emma said softly. “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t know whether she was sorry for the rejection her sister had endured as a teenager or sorry for secretly being with Cole now, but Emma felt remorseful.
“It’s not an excuse for the way I treated you back then, or the way I treated Dani last night. I really am sorry, Em. When Cole came to Mom and Dad’s house that day, I thought it was my second chance. My feelings were all still there. I talk a good game, but the truth is I want the same thing all women do. I want a great guy that I can have something real with. And it’s hard to see everyone around me finding it while I’m still alone. I tried with Cole again and got rejected again.”
Layla sighed deeply and Emma sank into a break room chair, grateful the room was empty for once. It was unlike Layla to be so vulnerable and honest, and she was caught off guard.
“It’s going to happen for you, Layla,” Emma said. “I know it’s hard to be patient--”
“Maybe someday. I hope so,” Layla said. “But I didn’t call to cry to you about my love life. I called to say I’m sorry. For hurting you back then, and for last night. You’re my sister, and I love that we’re close now. I feel like such a shit for being so mean to you back then. You’re worth a hundred of the bitches I hung out with in high school.”
“Thanks,” Emma said softly. “It would be nice if you’d apologize to Dani, but we’re good.”
“Okay,” Layla said, exhaling with relief.
“I have to get back to my desk, can I call you later?” Emma said, refilling the coffee cup she’d already drained half of.
“Sure.”
As they hung up, Emma realized she was in deep. How could she tell Layla she was with Cole now?
*****
Aaron Wright’s eyes were locked on her breasts, and Emma was mortified. They were in a meeting with a client, and she hoped he didn’t notice.
Her white blouse wasn’t cut that low, it was just lower than what she usually wore. She had put it on that morning, along with a black pencil skirt and black thigh-high stockings, in anticipation of dinner with Cole that night. He always raved about seeing her in stockings in heels, and dammit, she wouldn’t have worn four-inch heels for anyone but him.
Definitely not for Aaron, who licked his lips as his eyes met Emma’s.
“Do I have something on my shirt?” she asked, pretending to look.
“Uh … no,” he said, looking away.
“I like what you’ve done,” said their client, Max Hart. He owned a dozen car dealerships in Chicago and had more money than he knew what to do with. Aaron and Emma had created a campaign promoting the dealerships, with Max as the star. Emma wasn’t surprised he loved it, since his face was featured prominently on every billboard, pamphlet and Internet ad.
“We’ll let you take these materials and think it over,” Aaron said, rising to shake his hand. “Actually, I’ll have them delivered to your office.”
“No, that won’t be necessary,” Max said. “I’m in. This is everything I wanted and more.”
“Outstanding,” Aaron said, smiling widely. “Emma and I will get to work immediately.”
Emma felt a thrill at being part of the project. She was usually behind the scenes, but being front and center was better than she’d expected.
They saw Max to the elevator, and Aaron guided Emma back toward his office with a hand on the small of her back.
“We’ll need to get right to work,” he said. “But first, a quick celebration. I keep champagne in my office for occasions like this.”
His wink made Emma certain she didn’t want to celebrate with him.
“Raincheck?” she said. “I have to finish up another design project I have open.”
“Which one?” Aaron said, agitated.
“Kyoto. I want to wrap it up.”
“That’s not due for almost two weeks. Get your tight ass into my office,” he said in a voice only she could hear. Her coworkers were eyeing them, and Emma shifted uncomfortably.
“I’d rather not,” she said.
“You’d rather not listen to your boss?” Aaron was skeptical and even more agitated.
“You aren’t paying me to drink champagne, you’re paying me to design, and that’s what I want to do.”
Aaron’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You’re telling me you wore that to design logos in?” he said. “I fucking hate it when women practically beg for it and then play hard to get.”
“I’m not begging you for anything, Aaron. I’m having dinner with my boyfriend tonight. And I fucking hate it when men use their power to make women feel like they have to do things they don’t.”
Aaron’s mouth dropped open in shock.
“Emma,” he said smoothly, “You’re--”
“Don’t bother. I quit,” she said, turning for her desk. Her few photos and possessions fit into her carrying bag, and by the time she finished packing everything, she was surprised how calm she was.
“I don’t want to get you in trouble,” she said to Brian in a low voice, not looking at him. “But keep in touch, okay?”
“I will. That was awesome, Emma,” he said, grinning as he kept his face on his computer monitor.
During the elevator ride down, Emma pulled out her phone to call Cole. She remembered he was in court when she got his voicemail, so she texted him to call her.
After she exited the glass doors of the building that was home to Wright Design for the last time, Emma smiled. She’d done something risky and scary entirely on her own, and it felt good.
*****
Frank Sinatra crooned from the speakers in the living room as Emma whisked batter in a large mixing bowl. Sh
e looked over when the door opened, smiling when Cole walked in.
“You okay?” he asked, concerned. “I’ve been texting you.”
“Sorry, I’ve been working on this recipe. It’s grilled ham and cheese that you make with a waffle iron. It’s amazing.”
“That sounds good,” Cole said, loosening his tie as he walked over. “Why did you change your mind about going out?”
Emma sighed heavily.
“I had a shitty day at work,” she said, looking down into the batter. “I just want to spend the evening at home alone with you.”
“What happened?” he asked, approaching to wrap his arms around her from behind. She closed her eyes and leaned back into him, enjoying the solid, comforting feel of his body.
“My boss was an asshole to me and I quit my job,” she said in a small voice. She tensed, waiting for a reaction, but Cole just tightened his hold, lowering his head so his lips were against her ear.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
“Do I look slutty?” Her voice wavered with emotion, and Cole slid his hands to her hips, turning her around to face him.
“Did he say that to you?” he asked. Emma looked away.
“Just … do I?” she asked again.
“Absolutely not, baby,” Cole said firmly, reaching for the whisk that Emma still had in her hand, which was dripping batter onto the floor. “You’re beautiful, and it’s impossible not to notice that no matter what you’re wearing. Did he come on to you?”
She nodded miserably.
“We landed a big account, and he wanted to celebrate in his office. I knew what he had in mind, because he’s not very good at hiding it, so I told him I had work to do. He knew I didn’t. Anyway, he said I wouldn’t dress this way if I wasn’t trying to get his attention and he got mad.”
Cole’s face had darkened in anger.
“What a prick,” he said. “I’d like to kick his ass and sue him – in that order.”
Emma reached around his neck, pressing herself against him.
“Tonight I just want to wallow,” she said. “I know it’ll be okay. I have paintings I can sell, and this will give me more time for my art. I won’t be able to afford my apartment, but I can move in with Layla, she has a guest room. But it still feels crummy. If I quit, I wanted it to be because I wanted to, not because of this.”
Cole grabbed her hips and lifted her to sit on the kitchen counter. Emma smiled, thinking of how much better she felt since he’d walked in.
“Why don’t you move in with me?” he said, brushing his nose against hers softly.
“You don’t have to do that. Layla won’t mind,” Emma said, her heart pounding as Cole ran his fingers up her calves. Even through her stockings, the sensation of his touch made Emma close her eyes, the familiar burn of desire for him setting in.
“Em, I want you to move in with me. We spend most nights together anyway.”
“Have you ever lived with anyone?” she asked, apprehensive.
“Just college roommates and fraternity brothers. What about you?”
“No. I mean, not really. I kind of lived with someone in Paris, but not for very long.”
“A man?” There was a hint of jealousy in his tone.
“Yes, but we were more like roommates. I only let him move in because he was broke and had no other options.”
“Don’t you want to move in with me?” he asked, his voice low and sexy. As he pushed her hair aside to kiss her neck, Emma felt a sigh and a moan escape at the same time.
“Um … I do. I mean, it sounds great, but … God, that feels good … there’s, I have Vincent, you know, and you may not want a cat around. And also … I have to have a place to paint, and I don’t want to take over your apartment, and I … you’ve never seen me without makeup …”
Cole’s hand wandered higher, and Emma squealed as he lifted her down from the counter, pulled her skirt up around her waist, and lifted her back up.
“Much better,” he said. “I don’t care about any of that, Em. Bring the cat, make my office into a painting room. We wake up together now and I see you without makeup and you know I want to fuck you every single time. So tell me what I can do to convince you.”
He ran his fingertips underneath the seam of her thigh-high stocking, his other hand unbuttoning her blouse.
“Cole …” she murmured, raking her fingers into his short hair. His hand made its way from the stockings up to the lacy white panties she’d worn in anticipation of a night out. As he slipped his fingers inside, his mouth moved hungrily over the lace of her bra, and Emma arched her back toward him. Her newly unemployed status forgotten, all she wanted was for Cole to take her right here on the kitchen counter, next to the waiting waffle batter.
He groaned as he slid his fingers in further, and Emma moaned loudly.
“What the fuck is this?”
The voice sent a chill down Emma’s spine, because she didn’t even have to look to know who it was. But as Cole’s face turned toward the doorway, so did hers, and they both froze when they saw Layla.
Emma’s chest still heaved slightly from her arousal, and the sound of her breathing was all she could hear in the seconds that passed. Cole discreetly moved his fingers out of her.
“Are you trying to hook up with my little sister now?” Layla asked Cole icily.
“Layla,” Emma said, her voice thick with emotion.
“Em, do not hook up with him. He’s probably trying to get back at me because we argued.” Layla’s eyes burned with emotion, and Emma wished she’d remembered her sister had a key. It wasn’t supposed to go down this way.
“Seriously – get out, Cole!” Layla yelled. “Stay away from my sister! Neither one of us wants anything to do with you.”
“Do you want me to go, baby?” he asked Emma softly. Layla’s eyes flashed and she recoiled as though someone had struck her.
“How long has this been going on?” she asked.
“Layla,” Emma croaked, the tears that welled blurring her vision.
“How fucking long?” Layla screamed. “How fucking long, Emma?”
“A few months,” Emma said, gripping Cole’s neck for security.
Layla stepped back, aghast. Her face said it all, and Emma shook her head sadly.
“I didn’t want you to find out this way,” Emma said. “I was going to tell you Friday night.”
“Tell me what?” Layla demanded. “That you’ve been fucking him behind my back for months? You fucking whore! You backstabbing, lying bitch!”
“Layla,” Cole said, raising a hand. “Come on. Don’t talk about her that way. You and I have never been together, so I really don’t know why you’re so pissed.”
“I can’t believe this,” Layla said to Emma, dumbfounded. “You betrayed me and lied to my face about it so many times. For months?”
“Well, can’t you see why?” Emma cried. “I knew this would happen. It isn’t just a passing thing, Layla. I knew you were interested in him, and I wouldn’t have been with him for just a passing thing.”
“Oh, right,” Layla said, laughing bitterly. “This looks like a very serious relationship. Getting finger-fucked on the kitchen counter means true love.”
“Let’s sit down and talk about this,” Emma said, sliding down from the counter and pulling her skirt down.
“Like hell,” Layla said coldly. “Enjoy him, Em, because you lost me to get him.”
She turned and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Emma turned to Cole and sighed deeply. The numbness of her shock was wearing off, and now the guilt over the way Layla had found out about her and Cole was setting in. Her arms felt shaky as she buried her face in her hands.
“What do you need right now?” Cole asked.
“I don’t know,” she said sadly.
“Well, you need to eat. Let’s finish dinner, I think we left the waffle iron on. We can talk if you want to, or not talk …”
He ran a hand over his hair and exhaled loud
ly.
“I just don’t know,” Emma said, wrapping her arms around herself.
“Don’t change your mind about us because of this,” he said, his forehead creased with a serious expression. “I don’t want to lose you because of her.”
His worry was written on the lines of his face, and Emma covered the few steps separating them, laying a hand on his cheek.
“Don’t even think that,” she said. “I didn’t want her to find out this way, and I’ll have to atone for that. But I love you, and I’m not letting go of you because she doesn’t like it. If you still want this nearly broke, slightly neurotic artist and her moody cat, we’re yours.”
“I do, Em. And I want you to move in with me. I know you think--”
“Okay,” she said, meeting his eyes. “I will.”
“Really?” He grinned widely as he wrapped his arms around her. Emma leaned against him, worn out from the happiness, anger, anxiety and guilt that had all surged through her today.
Chapter 18
Emma sighed as she looked at a photo of Layla on her phone. They’d been at a farmer’s market over the summer, and Layla had picked up a large zucchini and was giving it a lusty gaze. No one else would think it was as funny as the two of them did.
Though she knew her sister’s shortcomings, Emma missed her. She wished her phone would ring with Layla’s song. Layla could be a hothead, and Emma was hoping that when she cooled down, she’d be more reasonable.
Getting their relationship out in the open brought Emma and Cole closer. They were both more at ease and focused on the details of her moving in with him. He’d insisted they have dinner with some of his high school friends the night before and she’d been nervous. Even at the age of 24, Emma harbored the insecurities of being an art nerd, and she didn’t want to spend an evening with the football players she’d never dared approach in high school.
But surprisingly, they’d been nice, and even funny. Sitting at a large table with Cole’s arm draped around the back of her chair was really comfortable. It was a perfect evening until someone asked Emma about Layla, which hit her with a pang of sadness.
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