by M. A. Foster
Pushing back from the table, I stand, grabbing my purse and pulling it over my shoulder. “Ready?”
Cam’s gaze flicks to the side, then back to me before he nods. Rising from his seat, he pulls his wallet from his pocket and tosses some cash on the table before leading the way through the small gate separating the seating area from the sidewalk.
“I forget you’re a celebrity.” I grin.
“I’m not a celebrity. I’m an athlete.” He winks. “People don’t usually bother me while I’m eating.”
After lunch, Cam drives us back to my house. I wish him luck on his game in Boston and promise to grab lunch again next week when he’s free.
Making my way to the kitchen and over to the small built-in desk, I grab the FedEx package I received this morning from Lilly and take it over to the countertop where I can spread it out. Then I dial Lucas and put my phone on speaker while I sort through my email.
“Hey, dude!” he chirps happily into the phone.
The excitement in his voice makes me smile. “Hey, dude!” I parrot. “You make America fall in love with you yet?” Lucas’s band LAW has been on tour going on two months now.
Lucas laughs. “America already loves me. Have you seen this face?”
I snort a laugh as I scroll past an email marked Urgent with the subject line “Lucas Wild, care of Emerson King.” That’s strange. My professional name is Emerson Mackenzie; King is my married name and is only used on personal legal documentation.
“Do we need to go over the rules?” For the time being, Andrew is managing Lucas’s band, but the band is still a product of King Records, which means, as a majority shareholder, I’m still his boss.
“Nope. I’m good. I’m sure Dad will keep us in line.” This is true. “Is Jay home from school yet?”
“Not yet,” I reply, distracted as I scroll back up to the email and open it.
Dear Lucas,
My name is Molly…
My heart freefalls into my stomach.
“… talk to her before I leave,” Lucas continues, but I’ve lost my train of thought.
“Hey, Luc, is your dad around?”
“Nah. He and Lilly went to Target to grab some snacks for the bus.”
“Okay. I’ll give him a call on his cell.”
“’Kay. Tell Jay to call me when she gets home from school.”
“Will do. I love you, dude.”
“Love you more. Mean it.”
The call disconnects and I quickly dial Andrew. “Hey, sweetheart. How’s Florida?”
I smile into the phone, picturing Andrew’s crooked grin. “Humid,” I reply with a soft laugh.
“How’s the tour going?”
“So far so good. The boys are behaving, surprisingly.”
Andrew insisted on managing LAW’s tour, and I truly believe it’s because he’s afraid the same thing will happen to Lucas or one of his bandmates.
Speaking of….
“Hey, are you somewhere you can talk for a minute?”
“Uh, yeah. Hold one sec.” Andrew excuses himself from whoever is nearby. “What’s up?”
“I was just checking my emails, and there’s one here sent to me but addressed to Lucas.”
“Who from?”
“Molly.”
Andrew is silent for a moment, and then he says, “Read it to me.”
“Dear Lucas, my name is Molly Fields. Your father knows me as just Molly, the woman who abandoned her son. This isn’t me making an excuse for why I abandoned you, because honestly, I don’t have one. Not a good one anyway.
“I want to say I’m sorry. I know sorry isn’t good enough, but I was young and selfish, so I left you to your father in the care of that pretty dark-haired woman, Emerson. It seems I made the right decision.” I roll my eyes. Now she knows my name.
“I’m married to a really nice man. His name is Tom, and he’s a doctor. We’ve been married for eighteen years now, and we have two sons, Tommy and Daniel. I’ve told my family all about you. We even went to your show here in California. I’ve been tracking your career, and I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of you. Your brothers would like to meet you someday. I don’t expect your forgiveness or even for you to reach out to me. I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking about you. I always think about you. If you ever decide you’d like to meet, you can email me at [email protected]. I really hope to hear from you. Best regards, Molly.” I roll my eyes even harder this time. She still sounds like an idiot.
I clear my throat. “Andrew?”
“Fuck! He’s in the middle of a goddamn tour. The last thing he needs is that bitch fucking with his head. Do me a favor and don’t mention this to him. Let me think on it for a bit.”
“I won’t say a word.”
“Thanks, sweetheart.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Will do. Talk later.”
“Okay. Bye.” I open my mental box of secrets and add another.
Emerson
“Hi, honey. How was your first day?”
“Interesting.” Jay drops her bag on the counter and heads straight for the refrigerator. She pulls out a large bowl of fruit and turns toward the counter, kicking the door shut with her foot.
“What’s all that?” She gestures to the papers scattered across the counter.
“Work stuff,” I say, gathering the papers together to putting them in one neat stack before picking up a small envelope and holding it out to her. “I was told to wait and give this to you after your first day of school.” I offer her an apologetic smile.
She eyes me skeptically as she reaches for the envelope and carefully opens it. Her face is void of any emotion as she scans the letter from Marcus.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” Sniffling, she slides the card back into the envelope and slips it into her bag. “The performing arts building is beautiful, and I really like my teacher,” she deflects, steering the conversation in a whole other direction. I get it.
“Alex was very excited about that job. He wanted to surprise you. I think it’s great. And look at it this way, you’ll get in some additional practice for the tour next year. It’s a win-win.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” she says before popping a strawberry into her mouth. To be honest, I thought she’d be happy about Alex.
“You don’t sound too thrilled about it.”
“I am. It just feels like there’s more to it, that’s all.” She shrugs. “I have this gut feeling that you guys are keeping something from me.” She raises her brows and purses her lips.
Jayla is as perceptive as they come. She’s always going on about her gut feelings, and the majority of the time, she’s right.
“You’re being ridiculous.” I wave her off dismissively. “Tell me about the Project Mayhem class.”
“There are ten of us split into two groups of five. Today we did mock auditions. Alex thought it’d be a good way to determine our strengths and weaknesses. He wants us to push ourselves out of our comfort zone to—” Her words are cut off by the ringing of the doorbell.
“Princess, that’s for you,” Bass calls out from somewhere in the house.
Jay shoots me a confused look and I mirror her expression—although I’m sure I know who it is—before following her to the door.
A man holding a clipboard is standing on the porch, Levi beside him. “Good afternoon. I’m Steve with Land Rover USA. I have a delivery here for Jayla King.”
Peering over his shoulder, her eyes go wide at the sight of the white Range Rover parked in the driveway. She lets out a high-pitched scream and leaps from the doorway, brushing past Steve and nearly knocking him to the ground as she rounds the front and climbs behind the wheel. Bass chuckles as he comes up from behind me and makes his way over to the passenger side.
I can’t help but laugh as Levi shakes his head, clearly amused.
“Sorry about that.” I hold out my hand and gesture for Steve to pa
ss me the clipboard.
“No problem.” He nods stiffly. “It happens every time.”
Bass walks into the kitchen and leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “Princess has a date tonight,” he informs me.
I huff out a laugh. The hell she does. “With whom?”
“Zach.”
I raise my brows. “That was fast.”
“Princess has a boyfriend,” Bass informed us with a devilish grin.
Marcus wasn’t amused. “She’s five.” He scowled.
“She’ll argue that she’s almost six,” I joked and Marcus shot me a look. I laughed under my breath.
Jay had just come back from a two-week vacation at Disney in Orlando with my parents, my nephews, the Parkers, and their two grandsons. Marcus and I stayed home because Elizabeth didn’t want me around her kids.
“Zach or Logan?” I asked.
“Zach,” Bass answered.
Marcus turned his gaze to me. “No more family vacations with the Parkers.”
I laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Marcus. She’s five. She doesn’t even know what a boyfriend is.”
Bass barked out a laugh and added, “She said she’s gonna marry him.”
Marcus raised his brows at me.
“Two weeks ago, she wanted to marry Usher.” I shrugged. “Tomorrow it’ll probably be a Spice Girl.”
Elizabeth and I had always joked when we were teens that we’d be lifelong best friends like our mothers, and our kids would grow up together and get married.
Our friendship may not have lasted, but I guess there are some things that are just meant to be.
“Mom,” Jay calls from outside my bathroom.
“In here,” I call back as I sink down into the bubbles.
She peeks her head around the door. “Hey.” She smiles.
“Hey. How was dinner with Zach?”
She laughs and rolls her eyes as she steps into the bathroom and sits down beside the tub. “Zach stood me up, so I ended up having dinner with Harper. You remember her. We met her when we had lunch at Mac’s the other day.”
I nod. “The pretty redhead, right?”
“Yeah, that’s her. She’s so nice. She reminds me of you in a way.”
I smile. “Oh yeah? How so?”
“She’s guarded.” My smile slips. It hurts me to hear her say that. Guarded is another word for unapproachable. I don’t want my daughter to ever feel as though she can’t come to me because I’m guarded. Or unapproachable. “She doesn’t trust easily, and she doesn’t like to talk about herself much. She lost her mom about four years ago to breast cancer, and her sister died in a car accident two years ago.”
“That’s awful.” I frown. “Does she have any other family? Is her dad in the picture?”
Jay nods. “Yeah. She lives with her dad, but he travels a lot for work, so she’s on her own most of the time. I was thinking that maybe I could invite her and Lexi over for a girls’ night.”
“I think that sounds like fun. Just be careful who you let in your circle. Tell me what happened with Zach.”
“I don’t know. We were supposed to meet at Mac’s at seven, and when he didn’t show up, I texted him. Four times. He finally called at eight fifteen. I sent him to voice mail, and then he sent me a text telling me he fell asleep.”
“Maybe he did. Max used to take naps after football practice all the time.”
She shrugs as she gets to her feet. “Maybe. I guess I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” She yawns. “I’m gonna take a shower and head to bed. I’m tired.” She leans over to give me a kiss on the cheek. I love that she still kisses me good night.
“Good night, baby girl.”
Emerson
“Hi, I’m looking for Dr. Mackenzie. I’m his daughter.”
“Emerson?” a vaguely familiar voice calls from behind me. I stiffen and squeeze my eyes shut. Fuck.
When my father asked me to meet him for lunch, he failed to mention that there’d be a chance I might run into Chris. I’m not ready to face him, and if I had it my way, I’d never see him again. But I’m back, and facing the ghosts of my past is something I’m going to have to endure if I’m ever going to make Heritage Bay my home again.
Inhaling a deep breath through my nose, I plaster on a fake smile and slowly turn around to face my first ghost.
“Chris, hi.” I fidget nervously with my purse strap. “I’m supposed to have lunch with my father.”
“Ms. Mackenzie, your father was called into a consultation,” the receptionist informs me. “He should be finished in about twenty minutes if you’d like to wait.”
“Sure,” I drawl.
“I’ll show her up to his office,” Chris offers as he waves a hand in the general direction of the elevators. “Thanks, Mandy.”
We step inside the elevator and I move to the far wall, gripping the straps of my oversized purse, clutching it close to my chest like a protective shield.
Chris pushes the button for the second floor and leans against the opposite wall, bracing his hands on the railing behind him and crossing his legs at the ankles.
“So it’s true?” He smiles. “You’re back.”
I nod once. “I am.” An awkward tension fills the space between us as we stand on opposite sides of the elevator taking each other in, seeking out the familiarity we once had.
The years have been kind to Chris. He’s classically handsome, in a preppy, all-American, pretty boy sort of way. He still has a full head of dirty-blond hair with a few grays mixed in, eyes the color of honey and skin golden from years spent in the Florida sun. His athletic physique is evidence of his years playing football. I don’t know if he ever went on to play in college, because I never asked and my parents knew better than to bring up his name.
My gaze falls to the pocket of his white lab coat which reads “Dr. Wells,” and there’s a pair of glasses tucked inside. I smile to myself, thinking how much we’ve changed over the last twenty-two years. We were just teenagers the last time we saw each other. Teenagers who thought we had life all figured out and that forty was old.
As if he’s reading my mind, he says, “I knew you’d always be beautiful, Emerson.”
My hands tighten around the straps of my purse and I lower my gaze to the floor. The ding of the elevator is my saving grace; as soon as the doors slide open, I step out and exhale a deep breath of relief.
“There’s a break room right around the corner,” Chris says as he moves to stand beside me. “Want a grab a cup of coffee while you wait for Mac?”
“That’s okay. I can just wait in his office.”
Tucking his hands inside the pockets of his dark dress pants, he drops his gaze to the floor and blows out a breath of his own before bringing his eyes back up to meet mine. “It’s just a cup of coffee, Emerson,” he says softly, and I don’t know why, but I feel a little flutter of guilt in the pit of my stomach. He’s nervous.
Honestly, I hadn’t even considered what I would say to him if we were to run into each other after all these years. Not that I’ve ever had a problem speaking my mind, but I feel caught off guard. I hadn’t exactly planned for a trip down memory lane with my ex today.
“Okay.” I nod once with a tight smile on my face.
As we make our way down, Chris points out my father’s office a few doors down from the break room that looks more like a mini-cafeteria. He gestures to an empty bistro table near the window away from the other staff members. “Grab a seat. I’ll get the coffee.”
While he’s gone, I shoot my father a text to let him know where to find me when he’s finished.
Chris arrives with two coffees and places one down on the table in front of me, then reaches in his pocket. “I wasn’t sure what you liked in your coffee.” He pulls out a handful of creamers, sugar packets and artificial sweeteners and sets them on the table before taking the seat across from me. “I can’t tell you how many times I rehearsed in my head what I’d say to you if I ever got the chance to
tell you I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to do this. It’s in the past.” I wave him off.
“Emerson, please… just hear me out.”
Exhaling a heavy sigh, I say, “Okay.”
“I want to start from the beginning.” I cringe at the memories: him kissing the whore, Mike in bed with the same whore, the slap from Elizabeth. “I’m sorry I screwed up. It only happened that one time, if you want to know the truth.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
He sighs. “No, I guess it doesn’t. That look on your face the night you confronted me has haunted me every day. If I could go back, I would’ve dropped down on my knees right then and begged you to forgive me. To give me another chance.” He takes a sip of his coffee. “I didn’t go back to the party that night. I didn’t want to risk running into Rebecca”—I wince at the sound of the whore’s name—“and I wasn’t about to let the girl I loved walk home alone in the dark. Your dad and Max would’ve kicked my ass if something had happened to you.” I smile because it’s true. “You didn’t even say goodbye, Emerson. You just left.”
“Do you think you deserved one after what you did?”
“Yes.” He raises his brows. “What I did was awful and it changed my entire life. But we were together for four years and friends for even longer. I may not have deserved your forgiveness or even a second chance, but a goodbye? Yes.”
“You hurt me and ruined our friendship. I didn’t care about what you wanted. I was so pissed at you, at Mike, at Elizabeth—”
“I know.” Chris shakes his head. “I ruined everything.” He huffs out a single laugh of disbelief. “All for an easy piece of ass. It took me three days to get up the courage to go over to your house, to beg for forgiveness and apologize to your family for disrespecting you. Your dad answered the door and told me you were gone. I told him I’d hurt you. I’d never seen him so mad. He told me to fuck off and slammed the door in my face, but not before Liam flipped me off in the background.” He snorts a laugh. “I barely made it off the front porch before Max was out the door. He kicked my ass all the way down the driveway, all while telling me I was a piece of shit who didn’t deserve his baby sister.”