by Angie Wilder
“I suppose it wouldn’t have hurt to ask.” If he had come straight out with I love you, chances were, they wouldn’t have had a horrid fight, lashing out with their insecurities. They still might not have worked out a solution, but they could have tried together.
18
Emma woke with her body hanging halfway off the edge of her double-sized mattress. Aside from a ten-inch strip and a corner of the quilt, Kaley claimed the bed. Last night, after hours of commiserating over their man troubles and a happy, tearful moment where they discussed the prospect that one day they might be sisters by marriage, they’d shared a tub of rocky road ice cream and fallen asleep exhausted. There was a glimmer of hope that the men may have knocked some sense into each other—or at least that was what the girls joked. In truth, Emma clung on to a belief that if she confessed what was in her heart, Evan would give her another chance. She regretted waiting so long. They could have avoided the whole fight.
She bolted up, causing the bed to stir. It was almost time for work. She’d throw herself together and face the man she'd hurt—at the clinic. A less than ideal setting for a proclamation of love and groveling. Would Evan avoid her, hide in his office, or possibly, if he was suffering as much as she was, draw her into a hug. One of those big comforting hugs and she’d know the worst was over. If not, at the very least, she’d fight to restore their friendship.
Kaley rolled over and yawned. “Is it morning?” She squinted at the window where the sun tinged the slats of the white wood blinds a faint pinkish gold.
Emma peered at the nightstand’s alarm clock. “Just after seven. The clinic opens in less than an hour.”
“Well, don’t cut corners and skip a bath. You’ve got chocolate drool on your neck.”
“Gross.” Emma rubbed at her skin and found a glob of marshmallow cream hidden under the collar of her sleepwear. She still slept in Evan’s jersey. “Not drool, it’s from that sob-fest dessert bender.” Crying and eating was a messy combination. Emma ran to the bathroom in a hurry to prepare for the day.
By the time she returned from the shower, Kaley had set out a flattering black skirt and a delicate white blouse. She had paired it with pale pink underwear more suited for being seen than worn. She was on Emma’s side with winning Evan back.
“Wear sexy,” Kaley ordered. “It’ll give you more confidence.” She sidestepped the cat and awarded Harry with a pat on her way to the door. “I smell bacon. I’ll return with food rations.”
Emma fluffed at her hair, pushing it in place in a desperate dash to dress. It was already eight o’clock. She would be late. Which wouldn’t be the end of the world, since not many wellness appointments were scheduled for Christmas Eve day. As she fixed the pearl button at her wrist, the phone rang. Evan? Her heart leaped. To her disappointment, a Minneapolis area code showed on the screen, a number she didn’t recognize. By the end of the call, her belly couldn’t stand the sight of the feast Kaley held as she entered the room.
“What’s wrong?” Kaley demanded and set the plate down.
“My contract. It turns out that the purchase agreement for the partnership in the Beverly Hills clinic needs to be signed today. The lawyer I had arranged to meet with later in the week had a conflict. Because of the holiday, the only time slot left before the New Year’s deadline is at eleven-thirty. I have a few hours to get to Minneapolis, to make the meeting on time. I have to be on the road by eight-thirty this morning. I need to speak to Evan.” Emma gathered everything she’d require for the day and ran past her friend and down the stairs.
In a rush, she parked in front of the clinic in the guest lot and dashed from the car. She had to find Evan and get back on the road within twenty minutes; not a lot of time to repair a relationship and decide her future. She’d thought she was up against a challenge before the sudden time constraint.
Please be available, please don’t be so mad, please let us work this through.
Emma burst through the front door, greeted by an empty entry. The overhead lights were on, and Emma assumed Penny was finishing up her morning tasks in back. With no trace of Evan, Emma moved from one exam room door to another, peering inside the skinny glass windows as she searched. She was relieved he wasn’t occupied with a client. Evan should be free to discuss the situation and provide her an inkling of where they stand in their relationship. She hurried to his private office, called his name as she twisted the knob, and stepped inside.
The ceiling fixture was on, but the space was empty. Where was he? Had Evan even arrived? She should have parked in back next to his truck; then she’d know if he was also running behind. His lab coat lay draped over the arm of the swivel chair, and there was a to-go coffee from the bakery on his desk. Emma crossed to it, set her purse down on the surface, and touched the side of the cup. Near the bottom, what remained was still warm, though the small amount left made her wonder if he had come in early. Did he also want to talk? Was that a good sign, or bad? It was a real possibility that Evan didn’t desire to make up.
Emma left the room and headed to the back of the building to check the lab and storage areas. On her way, she noticed the rear exit door hadn’t fully shut. Someone was distracted or also in a hurry. Before she secured the latch, she peeked into the lot in time to see Evan’s truck pull out of his usual spot.
“Evan!” Emma made quick work of the steps and sprinted across the frosty asphalt, but she was losing ground. “Evan!” She waved her arms as he turned out onto the main road.
“No, no, no…! Where is he going?” He had to turn back, and soon! Emma glanced at her watch. She had only fifteen minutes left to make the appointment with the lawyer on time. A phone call to Evan would have to suffice. Emma shot back to the clinic to fetch her cell phone from her handbag, where she’d dropped it on his desk.
Penny came down the hallway holding the spray bottle they used to wipe the front desk.
“Where’s Evan going?” Emma huffed, the panic raising her voice.
“We received an emergency call on a broodmare in labor. It sounded like the foal was coming breech.”
Evan wouldn’t be back soon, but if she went to him? “Maybe I can help, what’s our schedule today?” she said, fully aware that she didn’t have the time to spare, but she hadn’t planned on abandoning Evan. She needed an excuse to see him.
Penny wobbled her head from side to side. “Thin.” Then she focused on Emma’s high heels. “In those shoes?”
Emma continued to dress as she had in Beverly Hills, where the hospital didn’t practice large animal care. The horse’s owner would likely be of more assistance with the labor than she would.
“Good point.” She didn’t fit in here. As a kid, she’d stopped going on the farm visits after a brief scare when she’d been pinned between a cow and a pen wall, a crushing experience she never wanted to repeat. Emma tightened the belt of her heavy wool coat and followed Penny to the lobby.
“Besides, we have appointments coming in. We require a doctor here.”
But her contract…? Emma’s mind raced, and her heart pounded in her chest over the lost opportunity…or was it relief? She couldn’t identify precisely. She was at a crossroad. Which dream mattered more—the Beverly Hills clinic or her one true love? Evan was so angry. There was no guarantee he’d take her back. Could she survive the loss of Evan and the Beverly Hills practice? She might throw up.
“I have the shift covered, pumpkin.” Emma’s father strode out from her temporary office carrying a white to-go bag and a coffee. “Don’t forget your breakfast, Emma.”
“Thanks, Daddy. You didn’t have to bring me breakfast.”
“What? I didn’t—"
“Wait. You’re here? Working? Will you be okay?”
Her dad’s coloring looked healthy, and he had a bounce in his step she hadn’t observed around the house. “I’m fine. To tell you the truth, I’ve been restless and am thankful to return.”
“But—?”
“Kaley told your mom and me about you
r big signing today. We are so proud of you. You’ve been a tremendous help here. Thank you. I know you must be eager to secure that dream job, so you’d better get on the highway. We’ll celebrate tonight when you return.” Her daddy’s voice sounded funny.
“Are you sure?” She struggled to smile.
“Emma, the clock is ticking. We’ll be fine without you.”
She knew her daddy meant his words in the kindest way, but…they hurt.
“Now sweetheart, wipe off those happy tears, and drive safe.”
Emma’s gazed searched the space as if taking the view in for the last time, like selling a house she cherished as her home. Her focus settled on the examination rooms. “I have a follow-up on a chiropractic adjustment.”
“I’ll take care of things. It’s time to follow your heart. I love you too much to hold you back. My baby, the veterinarian to the stars.”
“Daddy.” She wrapped her arms around her father, hugged him, too choked up to say more. As she looked over his shoulder, the Paris ornament caught her eye, the reminder that Emma could accomplish anything she set her mind to, and she tried not to sob.
This should be the best day of her life.
Emma arrived in Minneapolis in just under a miserable three hours that left her wanting more time to sort out her future. The local law office, affiliated with the sister Beverly Hills firm, was located on the north side of the city, an accessible location before the crush of skyscrapers. Emma was thankful she didn’t need to navigate the downtown streets and parking ramps. The GPS led her to a sizable shiny building with plenty of open slots to park in front.
The morning sunshine had been a positive sign that the day would turn out for the best, Emma figured—hoped. There was still a slim glimpse of pastel blue sky overhead, but for the most part, white and gray spread, edging out the light. “There can’t be snow on Christmas without a few clouds,” Emma murmured, seeking to boost her dark mood.
They’d be fine without her.
I was trying to tell you I love you…But then he had changed his mind.
Emma leaned toward the passenger seat, slid the contract file out from under the white bakery bag, and pressed the documents to her chest, where it ached. She should get running, or she’d be late.
She watched the last slender bit of blue disappear as the storm eased in.
Two women exited the building, smiling as they departed with a wave. One held a cheerful red poinsettia plant done up with a gold bow.
It was Christmas Eve, the very best time of year. Emma had driven down with the radio off. Too many holiday songs, reminders of her texting game with Evan. She had to keep her focus on the highway. Difficult to do if she couldn’t see through the tears. Thank goodness for waterproof mascara.
As she sat staring at the architecture, tiny drops of moisture dotted her windshield, so small it was impossible to identify if it was snow or rain. She should hurry inside before the weather picked up. Besides, the lawyer was probably waiting on her, ready to kick off his winter break.
She peered at the untouched pastry bag. Her belly was empty and clenched in knots; she couldn’t stomach a bite. The Paris ornament rested next to the sack, cradled into the groove where the seat and back joined. She had walked to the clinic’s Christmas tree, as if in a fog, and had removed the souvenir, knowing they didn’t need her back.
Her daddy’s words and Evan’s played over and over in her head.
We are so proud of you…
I love you…
We’ll be fine without you…
I’ve changed my mind…
It’s time to follow your heart.
He walked away.
If only she’d talked to Evan, to determine if there was hope for a relationship. Good heavens, he was mad. Emma didn’t blame him. She’d fallen into his arms, his bed, recognizing full well an unavoidable conflict loomed in their future.
She pushed the pastry bag aside, lifted the ornament, turned it in her hand, feeling its weight. What did she want, above all else? She closed her eyes and listened to her inner voice, the one that whispered the best path to choose.
“This is about me. Making my dreams come true. And I know what I want.”
Emma stared out the windshield, and for the first time in days, she understood the right answer. It was time to get on with the rest of her life.
19
Evan hoped Emma had found his note inside the pastry bag. The peace offering, her favorite jelly doughnut, was a small first step in winning her back. He was sorry as hell over that fight, but he hadn’t thought she’d say what she said. Still, it was no excuse for walking out. They needed to talk.
“Of all the days to get pulled away from the clinic,” he muttered as he maneuvered his truck into the lot, worn down tired from the long day delivering the pretty chestnut filly and the stress over the breakup with Emma. Evan parked next to Ted’s pickup, the large rig that Emma hated to drive, and guessed Sophie must have required her sporty little SUV for errands. Just like she had that first morning when he’d picked Emma up for work, to commute to the office together.
His heart lightened, recalling Emma’s surprise to see him where he had waited on the stoop to offer her a ride. Evan hurried out of the truck, grabbed his bag, and shut the door. He had to find Em. Evan had known becoming coworkers would shift their relationship. He’d always cherished her as a friend, but this… a lever had flipped in his core, hardwired and dialed into big emotions. A single glance at Emma’s great legs while wearing his jersey and the sweet girl he’d never noticed like that had changed into someone he couldn’t stop thinking about, or keep himself from wanting. Their relationship had happened fast, but he loved her in a way he was positive he had never experienced.
Once inside the building, Evan kicked off his heavy farm boots and slipped into his shoes. He ran his fingers through his hair on his path to locate her. If he had to beg Em to talk this out while she clipped Labradoodle toenails, so be it. He wasn’t waiting any longer.
That argument was stupid, the two of them lashing out with forever on the line. He stopped in front of her door, gave it a quick knock, and twisted the knob. He’d only just come to realize the depth of his feelings, and they had a tight timeline to make any commitment happen. It was insane. He could live with that. What he couldn’t survive without was Emma. He needed to know if she felt the same.
Ted Gains sat in his old desk chair.
Evan blinked as if to clear the illusion. If Ted was there… “Where’s Emma?” Evan glanced around the place as if he’d catch her hiding in the corners.
“Gone. She’ll be back tonight in time for Christmas Eve.”
Evan turned toward the examination rooms. “So she’s not—”
“I can’t keep her here for you…or for me.” Em’s dad leaned back in his chair, the edges of his mouth curved down.
“What are you saying?”
“Have you worked out your situation with my daughter?”
Evan wasn’t ready for the parental squeeze, not before he could respond to that question with a yes. “Not yet.”
“She’ll return late afternoon. By three or four o’clock, I reckon.”
“I’m sorry, Ted. About Emma and me… She matters…” Lord, he didn’t have the words for it all. “Can you tell me where she is?”
“In Minneapolis, signing papers for the Beverly Hills practice.”
“THE papers?” With the world knocked out from under him, Evan sagged against the door frame. “She’s leaving?” His voice sounded gruff with the knot in his throat.
Ted nodded, sniffled, and swiveled in his chair, giving Evan his back. “It’s what she wants.” The meaning of that statement hung in the air. She chose California.
Evan shuffled through the lobby, noting that the main lights were turned off early for the holiday hours. The photo of Em and him as teenagers, the one that had started the mistletoe kiss idea, caught his eye, and he took it with him as he passed. He touched his fingertips to t
he image, wishing he could reach out and touch the soft skin of her cheek, then he opened his office door.
Kaley rose from the couch. “Why didn’t you stop her?”
There was a knot so tight in his chest it seemed impossible to breathe around, let alone to answer.
How long had Kaley been lingering in his office, wringing her hands? Stop Emma? Did Kaley believe he could? By the way his sister’s chin dented, he got the distinct idea she was genuinely surprised over the turn of events.
Kaley sighed, and her gaze softened. “Or did that charming face of yours scare her off?” she said and ran a finger over her lip, indicating his injury, where his face had met Ben’s fist.
Evan made a half-hearted chuckle at his sister’s attempt to lighten the tension. He suspected she was going easy on him because he must look awfully damn pathetic. “You should have seen the other guy,” Evan tried to joke as he crossed the carpet to his desk and set the picture down. It hurt to move, but he’d tough it out in front of his sister.
“That’s not funny!” Her clenched hands popped to her hips, but she didn’t look all that surprised.
“Ben and I worked it out.” Evan pointed to his eyebrow, the spot where he had landed the return punch that had evened the score. “He’s just as handsome, no other damage done.” And he deserved the black eye for screwing with Kaley, but Evan figured it was wise to change to a safer and more important topic. “Are you okay? That scene in the kitchen…” Evan shook his head.
“I think so,” Kaley grumbled and plopped back down on the sofa. “I don’t have much to go on other than…” She tipped her chin up as if being defiant and said, “Ben’s a good kisser when he’s angry.”
“Thanks for that.” Evan watched his sister get comfortable when he wanted nothing more than for her to leave him alone so he could figure out how to cope with Emma being gone.
Kaley smoothed her palms over the skirt of her dress. It was the same black number she’d worn the other evening for her food tasting thing.