by Kendall Ryan
“This is stunning.” I held the ring out, examining it in the light as I tried to picture the look on Emma’s face when she saw it. It was truly the most beautiful ring I’d ever laid eyes on, but it still wasn’t quite right. Not for Emma. Shaking my head, I handed the ring back to the woman.
She took it, then tilted her head to the side. “Tell me a little bit about your fiancée, maybe?”
My fiancée. I liked the sound of that.
“She’s perfect. Easy to be around, and just as beautiful in no makeup and jeans as she is in a ball gown. She’s comfortable everywhere, but she likes being home the best. She’s refurbishing her grandmother’s old brownstone herself, and she loves to read. She’s the kind of girl who’d rather sit by the pool than go on a spa retreat.” I smiled, thinking about her in her polka-dot bikini.
The woman’s eyes softened and she nodded thoughtfully. “So, she appreciates the simple things in life.”
“She does.”
“I know just the ring.” She disappeared for a moment and then approached me with a red crushed-velvet box.
Snapping it open, I found a single solitaire inside set on a classic band. The diamond was flawless, a round stone with brilliant light pouring from every angle. It was simple and perfect, just like Emma. It would enhance the beauty of her trim little hand instead of overpowering it.
But best of all? It would make her smile when she looked at it. I knew it in my gut.
“This is perfect,” I said.
“I thought so. Would you like to know the price?”
“That’s not necessary. I’ll take this one.”
I followed her to the cash register and settled the bill, then tucked the tiny box in my pocket before making my way back onto the street, thinking again of Emma’s parents. I wondered if she would want them there when I proposed, and tried to imagine what sort of proposal she would want.
Probably nothing too glitzy or over the top. There would be no skywriting, no flash mob with signs. Just a few candles and the two of us.
Classic, just like the ring and just like Emma.
As the gears in my mind worked, I felt my phone vibrate and I grabbed it, not bothering to look at the number before pressing the phone to my ear.
“Hello?” I said.
“Mr. Kingsley, it’s Aaron Deacon.”
My lawyer.
“Mr. Deacon, hello. What’s going on?”
“I’m reviewing your case and was wondering if you’d had any more time to consider our plan of action. Have you spoken with your business partners?”
I cleared my throat. “No. I haven’t.”
“I’ve been doing some case research, and it’s my job to tell you I think it’s prudent that you settle out of court at this juncture. I just don’t see this going away.”
I pursed my lips. “Go on.”
“I looked into the plaintiffs’ background to see if they could sustain such an extended trial, and it would appear that they were recently the victors in another lawsuit against a pharmaceutical company—”
“Whom they were suing on Ashley’s behalf,” I said, finishing for him.
“Yes. The settlement was substantial, and I think they’ll be prepared to put the screws to you if push comes to shove. To have something like this in the papers over the course of weeks? Very bad for business.”
“And how much would you suggest I settle for?”
“Five million. It’s a lot less than what they’re asking, but like I said, they only want the money.”
I pinched my nose and let out a long breath. “Right.”
“Like I said, I felt obligated to tell you. Discuss it with your family and your business partners, and then get back to me as soon as you can. We’re running out of time here.”
“Okay, I will.” I ended the call, then scrolled over to Quinn’s number, staring at it for a long moment before stuffing my phone back in my pocket.
A settlement that large would crush the company, not just financially but ethically. Even as I rolled the issue over and over in my mind, I couldn’t get past the idea that a settlement would make things look exactly as they weren’t—that Ashley’s parents had cared about her, and that I was the source of her pain.
In all the time I’d known her, all I had ever done was try to make her life better, to make her happy. There was evidence of that in all my memories, all the times I’d sat by her hospital bed.
Which meant, no matter what happened, a jury should be able to see that too.
I couldn’t cut and run. No, I had to find a way to tell Quinn and Cooper the truth.
The ring burned like a brand in my pocket, and I swallowed hard.
And Emma too.
Chapter Twenty
Emma
I spent the next week alternating between work and Gavin’s place. Or, more specifically, Gavin’s bed.
In the days after our lunch with my parents, I could tell there was still something weighing on his mind, but aside from that, things were good between us.
We were finally growing together, just like any normal couple would. Making memories and creating traditions.
We’d lie in bed together, naked and panting, and then we’d flip on the television and watch shows about house renovations or documentaries about food production in faraway places. It didn’t matter the topic; Gavin found a way to make everything interesting.
As I lay in his arms each night, I could feel myself sinking deeper, wishing I could stay there forever and always.
Of course, it wasn’t all roses. Some nights I still woke up, my heart pounding from a nightmare about that car bearing down on me, or about the bloody, pulpy mess left on my porch. There were little reminders of the threat everywhere.
The fact that I could no longer drive or take the bus, and still had to have the driver take me wherever I wanted to go.
The police officer stationed outside the library whenever I was at work.
The memory of that bloody bag every time I passed my stoop.
Today had been one of the days where I couldn’t just forget about it all. Bethany had taken a personal day, and the library had closed early due to a major leak in one of the bathrooms, leaving me all alone with my thoughts. By the time afternoon rolled around, I didn’t hesitate before clicking the Answer button on my cell phone when it rang.
“Hi, Mom.”
“Emma, honey.” My mom’s sugary tones wafted over the receiver, making me relax into my chair at the comforting sound of her voice. “I was just wondering what you were up to tonight?”
Funny you should ask. I was planning on wallowing in fear while I waited for my boyfriend to get home.
“Nothing. Why, is everything okay?” I asked.
“Fine, fine. I was just hoping you could come up for a visit. I know it’s a little bit of a drive, but I was thinking we could go to the tea house for dinner, and you could spend the night.”
I glanced at the clock. In order to meet Mom in time for dinner, I’d have to leave pretty much as soon as I locked up for the day. But Gavin was working late tonight anyway, and I wasn’t looking forward to my evening alone.
“That sounds great, Mom, but can I ask . . . I mean, I just saw you last weekend. Are you sure everything is fine?”
“I promise, everything is great. I just want to see my girl.”
I breathed a hesitant sigh of relief. Sometimes a little alone time with Mom was the best remedy.
“Well, then, how can I refuse? I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”
Quickly, I shot a text to Gavin and then to my driver before gathering my things and shoving them into my oversized work bag. My slacks and sweater would have to be good enough for the tea room, though I knew my mother would insist I try to squeeze into one of my old dresses from high school that still hung in my closet at their house.
No, thank you.
When my car arrived, I jogged down the steps and ducked inside, joining my driver in the front seat and changing the radio to my f
avorite station.
“Good afternoon, Emma,” Felix said with a grin.
“Hey, Felix. Did you get the directions okay?”
He gave me a thumbs-up and we sped onto the street. Luckily, we’d gotten out before the worst of the rush-hour traffic. Still, I felt bad about dragging Felix so far away on such short notice.
Digging my phone from my pocket, I pinged a text to Gavin.
Can you give Felix a tip or a bonus or something from me? I’ll give you the money when I get home.
Gavin replied in a matter of seconds.
Already done, but I’m not taking money from you. Have a great time.
Frowning, but knowing better than to argue, I shoved my phone back in my pocket and concentrated on the road ahead.
My mom could say it was nothing but a casual visit, but so many impromptu trips in a row had me slightly on edge. I just hoped, if my suspicions were right, that it didn’t have anything to do with Gavin. She’d admitted she misjudged him, after all. What else was there to say on the subject?
Two hours later, Felix pulled into my parents’ driveway and escorted me to the door. I rang the doorbell, then insisted he head back to the car before my mother opened the door with a wide grin.
“Hey, Mom.” I smiled back. “Where’s Daddy?”
“Bowling. I thought it’d be nice to have a girls’ night.”
“You’re right; it is. Sorry, but I didn’t have a dress on me for the tea room.”
“Well, you could always—”
“I’m not going to try on my old dresses,” I said quickly. “Come on, let’s go.”
Under Felix’s watchful gaze, I headed to my mother’s car and got inside, and when we pulled out onto the main road, he was directly behind us.
“Should I be nervous about the man in the black car following us?”
“Oh.” I let out a nervous laugh, heat rushing to my face. “No, that’s my driver, Felix. He’s supposed to look after me, that’s all.”
My mother raised her eyebrows. “Gavin’s orders, I’m guessing?”
“You got it.” I adjusted my collar. “I know it’s a little silly.”
“But sweet too. He’s looking out for you.”
A few minutes later, my mother pulled in front of an old Victorian building. After parking, we made our way to the wrought-iron door.
“Your grandmother loved this place,” Mom cooed as she always did when we walked inside and saw the polished wood floors and the vintage chandeliers. A girl in a white shirt and bow tie approached us and led us to a table already laden with scones, clotted cream, and tea cookies.
As ever, my mother ordered us one pot of Earl Grey and another of jasmine tea before tucking into her scone.
For a while, we chatted easily—me discussing the library’s latest events and acquisitions, and her talking about the latest news on the retired-teacher circuit. The tea arrived, and we each poured a cup of our preferred favorite, Earl Grey. The jasmine, though neither of us would say it, was for my grandmother. It would sit between us untouched, but the scent of it comforted us both and made it feel like she was still here with us in some way.
“So, tell me more about this boy,” my mom finally said.
I giggled without warning. “I hardly think Gavin’s a boy, Mom. He’s thirty-four years old.”
She smiled. “I suppose that’s true.”
The truth was, it didn’t matter his age. Gavin was all man.
“I’m actually more curious to hear your thoughts,” I admitted. “Now that you’ve met him, what do you think?”
“I think he’s a good man. He’s smart. Driven. A good businessperson. And he obviously cares for you.”
“But?” I raised my eyebrows.
“But . . . I wonder if you think he’ll be there for you. Sometimes, in the beginning, it’s hard to tell things like that. And a man with so many interests, so much money, can can he be counted on in good times and bad?”
“I think so,” I said, suddenly filled with apprehension.
My mother shook her head. “That’s not good enough, sweets.”
“Where is this coming from?” I asked, my brow furrowed.
She let out a deep breath. “Did you ever wonder why your parents were so much older than everyone else’s?”
My frown deepened. My mother had been forty when I was born. “Truthfully? I guessed I was an accident. Not in a bad way, but like a surprise.”
My mother tilted her head to the side, looking at me with a new kind of softness in her eyes. Slowly, she shook her head. “No, not at all. I never told you everything, really. That’s the way of it with mothers. We don’t want to burden our children with our own pain, but maybe it’s time I told you the whole story.”
A pause lingered in the air, and she took a sip of her tea before spreading her hands wide on the frilly tablecloth.
“Your father and I married when we were eighteen. We were stupid and in love, and back then, college wasn’t as important as it is today. We worked our menial jobs, and your father supported me while I went back to school to become a teacher.”
I nodded. “I know.”
“But what you don’t know is, hard as all that was, we were struggling with something else. See, the thing we wanted most of all was a baby. We tried and tried. I had five miscarriages in a ten-year period. And then, well, when we turned thirty, we decided it was time to stop trying. I tried to move on. Tried to feel fulfilled with my job and my life as it was. After all, lots of people choose not to have children, right?”
Her sad smile broke my heart as she continued. “But I got depressed. Not the blues, or feeling low, but the kind of depression where you can’t get out of bed or think of a reason to bother brushing your hair.”
“Oh, Mom,” I whispered, taking her hand in mine, and she rolled her thumb absently over the back of it.
“And you know what? Your father was my rock. He stood with me that year, never once wavering. Not when I lost my job because of it, not when I broke down or took it out on him. He stayed and we got through it. Eventually, we found our happiness together.” Her lips trembled into a smile. “So, when I was forty and got pregnant with you? You were our miracle, Emma. Never, ever an accident. But the important part of this particular story is, if it never happened? If we’d never been blessed with having you? That strife, those dark times, they let me know in my heart that I had the right man.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said, tears pricking my eyes.
She shook her head. “It’s what it should be. So, my question to you is this, my sweet daughter. Whatever life throws at you—the pain and the heartache and the joys—is this the person you want by your side?”
My answer came to me without hesitation. “He’s the one, Mom. I know it.”
I only hoped he felt the same.
Chapter Twenty-One
Gavin
“We’ve got a problem,” Quinn barked, shoving through the door as he let himself inside my office.
For fuck’s sake. I pushed away from my laptop, readying myself for the latest catastrophe. “What now?”
We’d had a string of problems to sort through lately, and I’d hoped our troubles were over. Maybe it was all part of being a Kingsley. Shit, maybe we were cursed.
Quinn released a tired groan and dropped into the leather chair opposite me. He was two years older than me, but somehow managed to seem both older and younger at once. He was experienced and wise, and when he spoke, men listened. But at the same time, he’d never really been in a relationship, had never even come close to settling down, so he still maintained that sort of bachelor’s immaturity.
“Cooper’s gone again.”
Jesus. I pinched the bridge of my nose, suddenly tired. Cooper had taken off for a while, trying to find himself, whatever that meant. But he’d come back, still not sure where he was going to settle. I knew he’d be moving and soon, but his disappearing act was getting old. I was used to predictability, and this was anything but
business as usual.
“One of us needs to go after him, and I think it should be you, for obvious reasons.”
“Me?” I let out a grunt of surprise. Quinn’s reasons were far from obvious to me.
“Yes. You.”
“I have no patience for his drama. I got the girl. End of story. He needs to man up.”
Honestly, I thought we’d covered all this, thought we’d worked through this that evening at Quinn’s when Emma disappeared into the library to let him down easy. Of course, I should have known it would never be that simple. Real life was often messy—I knew that better than anyone.
“How would you feel if the tables were turned? If Cooper was with Emma right now, and you were the odd man out?”
Strange. That was a notion I’d never even considered.
“I sure as hell wouldn’t be off somewhere hiding, licking my wounds.” I scoffed. “I’d be here—where I’m needed—working.”
“Yes, you would. But you’d be a surly son of bitch and a nightmare to deal with. And we both know it.”
There was no arguing with Quinn. Plus, there was a tiny chance that he might be right. Which I hated.
“My point is that everyone handles things differently. If you could put yourself in his shoes for just a moment, you’d understand how incredibly difficult it must be for him to see you and Emma together. And asking him to stay with her while you were out of town?” Quinn made a low noise of disapproval in his throat and shook his head. “That was fucked up, bro.”
Then why did you fucking suggest it, asshole? Anger bubbled up inside me, but it was clear this was not the time to argue.
Now I was the one releasing a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I’ll go after him. Where is he?”
“New York.”
• • •
Pleased that I was able to get the jet on short notice, I’d headed to New York for the evening. Emma had gone to visit her parents’ home for the night a couple of hours away, which meant I didn’t have to worry about leaving her unattended. I had a nagging feeling that the mess she’d found herself in wasn’t quite over yet. But I’d have to deal with that later.