by Barb Curtis
“I’m not in love with—”
“Tim,” she interrupted. “Stop fooling yourself. You wouldn’t be tearing yourself up over all of this if you weren’t in love with her.”
Images of Emily flooded his vision. Laughing over spilled coffee, dancing in the barn…He rubbed a hand over his face as his lungs constricted. Damn it. His mom was right.
He needed to get out of this house and get some fresh air.
“All I can say,” she continued, “is that you better not hurt her. If you care about Emily at all, make sure you’re both on the same page.”
He rubbed the palms of his hands over his jeans. When he finally chanced a glance at his mother, she was staring at a crack in the ceramic tile, a deep v creased between her brows.
To break the tension, he pushed his chair away from the table and carried his dish to the sink. Running hot water, he added a shot of dish liquid and braced his hands on the counter, watching the suds rise.
His mom bumped his shoulder when she turned to dry the dishes that he placed on the dry rack. “You know, you and Emily are grown adults. I do hope nobody gets hurt, but it’s for the two of you to figure out. If you need to take things slower, just be honest with her. I’m sure she can appreciate that, with everything you’ve been through.”
With the dishes done and the kitchen cleaned up, Tim headed home. His mother tried to lighten the mood after dinner, but their talk weighed on him, and he just didn’t feel like great company at the moment. He parked his truck behind the shoe factory. As he approached the building, he noticed someone sitting on the steps of the tenant entrance fidgeting with their hands.
A familiar scent of perfume wafted across the walkway, and Tim squinted under the streetlight. “Melissa?”
Her lips parted into a smile, and she stepped forward and folded him into a hug.
Arms stationed at his sides, he scanned the parking lot for her camera crew—they had to be here somewhere. But he recognized all the usual vehicles, and nobody else seemed to be lurking around. Had she actually managed to get away without them? With a little twist, he backed out of her reach. “What’re you doing here?”
She wore a sweater that barely met the top of her jeans, with a chunky knit scarf layered on top—hardly appropriate for the middle of March. “I really needed to talk to you, and this seemed like the only way.” Her shoulders lifted and then settled again.
So blocking her didn’t get his point across, apparently. Tim’s eyes traveled over the parking lot a second time, and then the entrances of all the neighboring businesses. Nothing seemed out of sorts. “What do you want to talk about?”
She sighed. “You, me…everything.”
Tim crossed his arms and peered at her under the glow of the streetlight. Last time he saw her face-to-face she’d ripped his heart out. Seeing her again only proved one thing—he harbored zero feelings for her.
She shivered, rubbing her hands together. “Can we at least go sit on a bench instead of these concrete steps?”
It seemed like an okay compromise, so he turned on his heel and headed around the side of the building toward town square, while she trailed behind. He lowered onto the first bench they came to. “Look, if you’ve come here to apologize again, you can save it. I’m not holding any kind of grudge against you, Mel, honestly. What’s done is done, and I really, really, just want to get on with my life.”
She shifted on the bench to angle her knees toward him. “Everything has gotten so out of hand.” Tears pooled in her eyes. She tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and sniffed. “The show is so twisted. They completely set me up with Dak—told me we made good TV and said if I wanted to stay on the show, I better go along with it. I never wanted to hurt you.” Her voice cracked with emotion.
Whether it was the truth or not didn’t matter all that much. In the end, her motivation for fame had won out. Tim’s gaze was fixed over her shoulder, at the dim lights glowing from inside the yoga studio. He could really use some of that namaste shit in his life right now. “So are you saying you didn’t actually sleep with Dak?”
With a careful dab of her thumb, she wiped away a tear that had slipped through her heavy lashes. “No, it happened. I’m just saying that my relationship with Dak boiled down to a concept created by the producers. They paired us up from the beginning and played on our loneliness and placed us in a bunch of situations so we’d be forced to bond.”
She shrugged before going on. “What you actually see on TV is edited so much, and things are taken way out of context. They pull bits and pieces of dialogue together to create totally new conversations that result in half the house fighting and the other half forming alliances.”
Even though she’d gutted him, a part of him actually did feel bad for her. After all, he’d loved her once. That had to have been a toxic environment to exist in. Still, it didn’t erase the fact that she’d cheated and selfishly used him all for the sake of good TV. He laced his fingers together. “So, why did you want to tell me all this?”
She wrapped her small, chilly fingers around his wrist. “Because I hate what I did to us. And to ask you if there is any way we can have another chance?” Her dark eyes filled with hope.
Like hell. Clearly the woman didn’t know him at all. “If you’ve come here looking to put the pieces back together, it’s not going to happen, Mel.”
“But what if I made a mistake?” She swirled her thumb over the tender flesh of his inner wrist. “We were amazing together.”
Were they really? He’d thought so at the time, but now all her touch did was make him crave Emily. Tim pulled his hand away.
Melissa rushed to keep talking. “Think about all the good times we had. Is it really worth just throwing it all away?”
“I’m with somebody else.”
Melissa furrowed her brow. “Are you, though? I have a really hard time believing you’ve suddenly fallen for one of your oldest friends. The timing seems a little too convenient.”
A car passed by, and Tim watched its lights disappear around the corner before focusing on Melissa again. “I really don’t care what you believe.”
“Okay, fair enough, I deserve that.” She inched a little closer on the bench. “But just hear me out a minute, okay? Think about the publicity you’ve gotten by being on the show for five minutes. Now imagine what could happen if we were together on season two. It’d be so much better with you there, and it’s what the fans want. They’re rooting for us. You could end up with a lot of side perks, too, sponsorship opportunities…”
Tim’s back stiffened against the iron bench. “Did they send you here to try to convince me to go on the show?”
“I really think you should consider it.”
She hadn’t answered the question. Tim rose off the bench. Nothing she said at this point even warranted a response from him. “Look, you’ve said what you came to say. In fact, in a way I’m glad you showed up so I can tell you that I forgive you and, despite everything, I wish you nothing but the best.”
An invisible weight lifted off his shoulders, and another tear escaped the fringe of Melissa’s lashes. “I hope you find someone who makes you happy. I’m not that guy, but I know he’s out there.” And she sure as hell wasn’t going to find him on some reality TV show.
She remained quiet. Standing, she placed a hand on his arm. “Just don’t rule the idea out, okay? Take some time to think about it.” She inched up on her toes, framed his face with her hands, and kissed his cheek. “You’re a good guy, Tim. You’re level-headed, easygoing. You wouldn’t get sucked into the drama. I think the show could benefit from someone like you in the house.”
She pulled the sleeves of her sweater down over her hands and fisted the cuffs before walking back in the direction of the marina.
Tim glanced up at Emily’s dark apartment. Still at her grandmother’s. He folded forward and pressed his forehead into his hands. To think Melissa actually believed he could be convinced to go on that damn show.
&
nbsp; He had real problems to figure out, and they started with the fact that despite every bit of common sense he had, he’d gone and fallen in love with Emily. As he was trudging across the street, his back pocket vibrated.
Emily.
Did this really just happen?!
He waited until he was inside his apartment to open whatever link she’d sent.
A second later a Facebook post popped up with a photo of Melissa kissing his cheek in the square. There were several others—Melissa leaning toward him on the bench, her hand on his wrist, which in the picture looked as though they held hands. And then the caption. So great to reconnect with Tim tonight. I’m working on him, everyone. #ReuniteTimAndMel
Fuuuck.
Heat engulfed his neck, and he slammed his fist into the kitchen table. It was posted five minutes ago, basically the second her heels rounded the corner from where they’d been sitting. Forty-seven shares already, and hundreds of comments. What did these people do, just scroll through their phones all day long?
The whole thing had been orchestrated—another attempt to boost ratings, and like a goddamn idiot, he’d just played along. He should know better by now.
His phone vibrated with another text from Emily.
You’re kind of leaving me hanging here
Some things did not need to be discussed via text. Rather than reply to Emily, he hit Dial.
Chapter Nineteen
Emily’s wipers slapped across her windshield at full speed as she pulled into Nana’s driveway on Friday evening. The mild rain had persisted the majority of the day. Unless she wanted to be soaked to the skin, she’d have to stay put for a few minutes in her car and wait for it to let up before lugging in dinner and the groceries she’d picked up for her mom and Nana.
She turned down the volume on the stereo. Her mom had a lot on her plate with inventory week at the boutique, so Emily had tried to make herself as available as possible so Nana had someone around to remind her to rest, help her move around a bit, make sure she was obeying her lifting restrictions, and ensure she was eating properly. That meant juggling her baking hours to whenever she could spare the time and relying on Harlow and Lauren to cover the counter during regular business hours.
Time with Tim had been scarce, too. When she saw that photo of Melissa kissing him, she’d struggled to catch her breath. His explanation over the misconstrued Facebook post had settled her nerves some, though, and when she’d taken a look at the photos a second time, it was clear from Tim’s body language that it wasn’t a happy reconciliation.
Still, it drove Emily crazy that Melissa had come to Sapphire Springs and set him up like that. Neither of them should have been surprised by it, though. In fact, they should’ve expected something like this would happen sooner or later.
She’d tried to convince Tim to post some kind of rebuttal, calling Melissa out, but he wouldn’t hear of getting into some back-and-forth on a public forum and insisted that the best response was no response.
He might’ve been right, but that didn’t stop Emily from wanting to sharpen her claws for whatever the producers came up with next.
Once she and Tim had talked the whole thing out, things had mostly gone back to normal. He’d brought lunch over to her and Nana one day earlier in the week. Another night, after she’d accomplished everything she needed to at Tesoro, they’d gotten together to watch a movie, though she’d fallen asleep halfway through.
A far cry from the previous week, when they’d spent every spare minute together. To be fair, she was busier than usual, but he was unusually quiet, too.
When the rain finally subsided to a gentle drizzle, she pulled up the hood on her jacket and dashed to the back of the car to grab the groceries. She’d carry everything in one trip.
Nana closed the door behind her when she got inside. “Come on in out of this dismal weather. I’ve got a cup of chamomile tea waiting for you.”
“Oh thanks, Nana.” She still wasn’t used to seeing her grandmother dressed in loose-fitting sweaters and leggings. Even when she wasn’t attending brunch or committee meetings, Evelyn O’Hara was always very put together.
Emily shook off her jacket and hung it in the closet. “I’ll just get this stuff put away. I’ve got some roasted red pepper soup and a baguette for dinner.” She put the produce, orange juice, and milk in the fridge before hurrying to the pantry to stash away the rest.
Nana poured the soup out of the container from Rosalia’s into a pot to reheat. “Lynette called and said we could eat without her. She wants to finish up the inventory, so she might be a little late.”
Emily nodded, expecting as much. “Sit, Nana, I’ll take care of the food.” Nana had weaned herself off the heavier painkillers within a couple of days of being home from the hospital, but Emily knew her incisions were still sore. Her movements were a little slow, but she was getting around well and had already talked about a trip to the salon soon so she could get her hair set and feel like some semblance of her old self again. Her mom insisted she was being ridiculous, but Emily understood. Sometimes a bit of normalcy went a long way in perking a person up. Maybe when Nana felt up to it, the three of them could spring for a little spa visit.
Headlights flashed on the kitchen wall just as they got settled at the table and Emily began to slice the baguette. “Mom must be home already.”
Nana glanced at the clock over the sink. “I thought she’d be later, given the way she spoke on the phone. I don’t recognize that vehicle, do you?”
Craning her neck, Emily peered through the window at the red SUV. She got up when someone knocked on the door. “Whoever it is knows us well enough to use the back door.”
She wrapped her sweater around herself tighter and opened the door.
Her father stood on the veranda, rain dripping from his silver-streaked dark hair onto his forehead and running down the bridge of his nose. “Dad!” She gasped and jumped across the threshold to wrap her arms around him.
He enveloped her in one of his trademark bear hugs. “I know you said you’re all doing fine, but I had to make the trip from Finger Lakes and see for myself. It’s good to see you, sweetheart.” He stepped back. “You look great.”
“You do too, Dad.” She tugged on his hand. “Come on in. What’s it been, two months? More?”
“Too long,” he replied, unzipping his coat and peeling it off.
Emily hung it on a hook behind the door. “Nana is just in the kitchen having some soup. She’ll be so happy to see you.”
“Your mother, probably not so much.”
Oh, shit. Mom. She’d have a conniption when she found out Emily had called her father, but she hadn’t expected him to drop everything and show up. The thing was, Emily knew her dad would want to know what Nana was going through. What all of them were going through.
And maybe a little part of her had hoped he’d visit.
“Who is it, Emmy?” Nana poked her head into the hall. “Phil!” A smile spread across her face and her hand immediately went to her lifeless hair. “I must look like hell.”
“Nonsense, Evelyn. You always look wonderful.” He stepped out of his shoes and gave her a gentle hug. “It’s good to see you. I was worried.”
Nana pulled the front of her baggy cardigan together and motioned for him to follow her down the hall to the kitchen. “There’s nothing for anybody to worry about. I’m going to be fine.”
“When Emily called me, she said the doctors are optimistic, but I wanted to see for myself.”
Nana rolled her eyes, but it was obvious she was pleased. “Emily, get your father some soup.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary.” He waved his hand. “I didn’t mean to drop by in the middle of dinner.”
“Sit down, Dad. There’s plenty to go around.” He’d lost a few pounds since his last visit. She filled a bowl and placed it on the table in front of him. “Help yourself to the cheese and baguette, too.”
“Thanks.” He ground pepper into his soup. “So you’r
e feeling good then, Evelyn?”
She smoothed her hair away from her forehead. “I’m tired a lot, and I have some difficulty catching my breath. I suppose I’m adjusting to functioning on less lung tissue. But I’m feeling as good as anyone could expect, I think, after only a week of being out of the hospital. I go in next week for a follow-up and to have my stitches removed.”
Her dad dunked a slice of baguette into his soup. “I figured you’d be tired. That’s why I waited a few days. I didn’t want to intrude too soon.”
He glanced at Emily. “And your mother? How is she?” His brows lifted, suggesting that what he meant was How is she really, with everything going on?
“Mom’s good. She’s working late today, but should be home soon.”
“She worries too much,” Nana put in. “Doting on me, like I’m on my deathbed. This one, too.” Nana tilted her head toward Emily.
Emily and her father shared a grin, and it almost felt like he fit in here somehow. “See? I told you she’s getting back to her old self already.”
“How’s Beth?” Nana made an obvious attempt to steer the topic away from her health.
It burst the happy bubble. Nana always graciously asked about Emily’s stepmother, even though she was a miserable cow who never so much as uttered her mom’s or Nana’s names in conversation. In fact, her dad was probably in the doghouse just for visiting them.
Her dad set down his spoon. “We’ve separated, actually.” He looked up from his bowl after a long pause. “It’s been coming for quite some time.”
Sweet Jesus, that was the best news Emily had heard in weeks. She pressed her lips together to downplay her enthusiasm and tried to keep her voice level. “Are you okay?”
He lifted his shoulders and let them fall again. “Sure, I guess. Like I said, it’s been a long time coming. I moved out in January. I didn’t say anything, because there’s been a lot going on with the legal end of it. She’s keeping the house for now, and I’m renting a condo until I figure out what to do.”
“How long are you in town?” Nana drained her tea and started to get up.