“I’m not scared. I’m a realist, and I realize it’s ridiculous to think that you and I can just…”
“What?” he hooked an arm around her waist and dragged her close. “Spend the rest of our lives together? Maybe have a couple kids of our own?”
“Stop it.” She shoved at him until he let her go. “You’re trying to confuse me.”
“I’m trying to convince you that what we have is real, but maybe you’re not ready yet.” Reece stepped away. “I’m willing to wait a little while for you to figure out your mind, but I stress ‘a little while’. I’m not about to let you go now, Emma Bertram.”
Chapter 25
Call her a coward, but Emma did her best to avoid seeing or even thinking about Reece Casings. It wasn’t all that hard, since she was so busy taking care of Imogene and planning the final menu for the soft opening at The Paradise.
Her avoidance went to a new level when Emma decided to box up her father’s study as a way to stop thinking about how much she missed Reece.
Her mother and Paige were at the dress rehearsal, and Imogene was sleeping upstairs.
Emma regretted the decision the moment she opened the study door. Nothing had been touched since the last time she’d been in here with Reece. Even the scent of her father’s cologne remained. She stood in the middle of the room, taking in the globe, the books, and the papers that were now collecting dust.
“It’s time,” she said out loud.
She’d go through everything and sort. Most of the law books could be donated or maybe Reece could take them…
Nope…no she was not going to think about him.
Getting her mind back on track, she surveyed the room again, working to shove any emotion down. She’d never survive otherwise.
The pictures could go to Imogene and Paige. There might be other things they’d want, like her father’s framed law school diploma. The globe would stay, no matter what. Emma couldn’t bear to part with it.
She went to the shelves and rifled through the books, making stacks for donating, keeping or giving to her father’s firm. Then she knelt down and opened the cabinets on the lower portion. In the first one, she found a big scrapbook, with her name written on the front.
Curious, she opened to the first page, and gasped when she saw the invitation to her High School graduation. There was also a picture with her father on graduation day. She was scowling, but Thomas Bertram smiled proudly.
Swallowing the sudden unease, Emma continued flipping through the pages.
Her graduation from Culinary School.
The menu of the first restaurant where she’d worked as a professional chef. Her father had circled a dish. There was also a picture of the dining room and a date written in the corner.
Emma began to tremble. He’d eaten at her restaurant, and she’d never known. Why hadn’t he said anything? Asked to speak to her? Had he thought she wouldn’t want to see him?
There was page after page of menus and pictures from every restaurant where she’d worked, in every city. There were also newspaper and magazine clippings, with stories featuring her. The rising chef. The woman breaking through the ranks of a male-dominated industry. He even had a picture of The Queen’s Ransom, with a clipping about Isabella.
“Oh my Lord.”
He’d followed her career, documenting every achievement. He’d been proud of her, and what had she done?
Rejected him at every turn. She’d refused to forgive him. Refused to be part of his new family. Now it was too late to do anything. She couldn’t apologize. Couldn’t say she loved him, too. He was gone, and he would never know.
Her father had died thinking she hated him.
The tears she’d never shed came like a gale-force wind, roaring up from the depths of her soul. She almost didn’t recognize the inhuman wail coming out of her mouth. Her entire body shook with the release as she clutched the book to her chest.
“Emma?” Imogene stood in the doorway, her eyes wide with panic.
Emma tried to respond, but she couldn’t speak past the terrible, clawing agony clutching her throat. Imogene took a step back, and then disappeared.
Emma couldn’t stop sobbing, and she was on the edge of hysteria now. She tried to breathe, but could only manage short pants as a horrified mantra echoed in her mind.
I’ve lost my chance…
I can never make it up…
He’s gone…
He never knew…
He never knew…
She didn’t know how long she stayed on the floor weeping, but suddenly she heard Reece’s voice.
“Emma, sweetheart…” He swept her close, and she clutched at him, digging her fists into his shirt as she continued to sob uncontrollably.
He kissed her temple, stroking her back to her neck. When Emma lifted her head, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to kiss him. The urge to drown out the chasm of despair and shame overtook her, and she shoved him to the floor. She climbed over him, trying to devour his lips in a desperate bid to forget.
Reece resisted for a moment, and then he groaned, and his hands swept up to frame her face so he could take command. Suddenly, she was on her back, and he was looming over her…and it was glorious. She thought she could kiss Reece for the rest of her life and never get enough.
Emma tugged at his shirt. Buttons went flying, but she didn't care. She needed to feel him. The warm skin covering hard muscles, which shifted and flexed as her hands roamed over his chest.
He let out another agonized groan, but then clamped a hand over her roaming fingers. “We can’t do this.”
“Why not? Don’t you want me?”
A third groan. “Emma, I’m dying for you, but we’re in the study.” He nipped at her chin. “Imogene is right outside the door.”
Emma’s eyes flared. “Why is she outside?”
“Didn’t you hear her before?” he asked. “She heard you crying and came down to see what was wrong. You were hysterical, and she didn’t know what to do, so she called me in a panic.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Emma covered her face. “She saw me wailing on the floor. Imogene must think I’ve lost my mind.”
“She was worried all right.” He sat up and tried to adjust his shirt, but gave up when he realized two buttons were missing. “What happened?”
“I came in to go through my father’s things.”
He frowned. “Why would you tackle that alone? You should have called me.”
“I was trying to avoid you,” Emma said dryly.
His jaw clenched. “Then at least your mother—”
“Make my mother sift through evidence of my father’s life with Mona? No way. She’s done enough for me.” She picked up the scrapbook. “I was okay until I came across this.”
Reece took the book and flipped through pages. His eyes widened. “It’s all about you and your career.”
“He followed me every step.” Emma pointed out the menus. “He came to eat at every one of my restaurants, without ever telling me. He looked up articles about me.”
Reece lifted his head. “Why would it upset you to know he was proud of you?”
“Because I was so horrible to him.” Her vision clouded again. “I refused to forgive him after the divorce, and he died thinking I—”
Reece set the scrapbook aside. “Emma no, he never believed that. He talked about you all the time. He loved you so much.”
“Right. He loved me, but I couldn’t give him the time of day. Why would he come to all the restaurants and never ask to see me? Why wouldn’t he want me to know he’d come? Because he thought I would reject him…and I probably would have. You were right to resent me and the way I treated him.”
Reece framed her face. “No, I was wrong. I only knew one side of the story. Your family was torn apart because of what he did, and it was only natural that you would be angry.”
“I could have let it go,” she said. “I should have let it go. I should have grown up and realized it’
s not all about me. He was happy with Mona and the girls…Happy, except for thinking I hated him.”
“I’m telling you, he never thought that.” He kissed her gently, slowly. “Emma, he left his girls for you to raise if anything happened to him. He would never have done that if he really thought you hated him.”
“I never told him, though. Not once since the divorce did I ever say I loved him. I had to hold on to my anger and judgment, and now it’s too late.”
“It’s not too late for you,” he said, stroking her hair. “You can let go of the anger and resentment. You can allow yourself to be happy and trust in love again.”
Despite her abject misery, Emma recognized the not very subtle message. “Are we still talking about my father…or you?”
A flash of chagrin chased across his face. “You caught that, did you?”
“Yes, I caught that.”
He sighed, and Emma noticed the sunken look around his eyes and the deep brackets at the corners of his mouth. Reece Casings had suffered over the last few days, too. He’d lost his friend and work partner, and now she had the power to permanently remove him from his daughter’s life.
She had the power…
She had the choice to move forward and embrace her new life. She could choose to forgive him and accept that a wonderful man could love her, faults and all.
“Emma, I never meant to hurt anyone.” Reece touched one of the framed photographs of Imogene with her parents as a baby. “She was all I had, and I couldn’t walk away when I had an opportunity to be in her life, even if it was on the fringes.”
The stark despair reflected in his dark eyes, and Emma’s heart broke open. How could she blame him for wanting some part of his daughter? How could she find fault with a man who would go to any lengths to be there for the people he loved? Reece hadn’t just embraced Imogene, but Paige as well. He’d die for those girls, just as Emma would. What would it be like if she allowed a man like him to love her? No force on earth would rip him away.
“We’ll have to tell Imogene and Paige the truth, especially if I agree to marry you,” Emma said.
“What?” he blinked in confusion, and then his gaze sharpened, even as it softened somehow. “I don’t recall asking you to marry me.”
“This is a new century,” Emma said. “Who says I can't ask you?”
“Emma…” He hooked a hand behind her neck and pulled her closer. “I love you. I think I fell the moment you tumbled into my arms at the church. I had set out to resent you, but all I wanted to do was kiss you.”
“I love you, too.” Emma leaned closer and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I couldn’t believe a man in a suit and tie would turn me on.”
She felt the smile tugging at his lips. “What’s wrong with a suit and tie?”
A longer, more lingering brush on the other corner. “Not my type.”
The hand at her neck fisted in her hair, holding her in place. “From now on, you only have one type,” he said, on a low growl before claiming her lips, demanding nothing but complete surrender.
Emma had no desire to do anything else.
Chapter 26
Emma poured her special Apple Riesling Sauce over pork tenderloin wrapped in bacon and stuffed with apples, garlic, sage, and thyme. She stepped back, releasing a deep breath as she regarded the dish. Hopefully, the invited guests would like it. With the theatre’s kitchen mostly completed, Emma and Layla had decided to have a celebratory meal in the dining room.
For a moment, Emma thought she might throw up. She hadn’t been this nervous since the early days of her career, when even a minor mistake could bring down the wrath of the notoriously bad-tempered Master Chef. Every synapse in her brain had gone haywire.
Shaking off the attack of panic, Emma clenched her fists.
“You’re going to be great. Everyone will love you,” she said, directing the comment at the pork loin.
The food had no response.
Further down the prep table, Mrs. Pringle chuckled. “Are you talking to the food now, Chef?”
“Like you’ve never tried to cajole a dish into submission,” Emma retorted. “Can you start slicing portions while I finish the other two tenderloins?”
Mrs. Pringle picked up a knife. “Right away, Chef.”
Emma watched her work, admiring the older woman’s calm disposition. She could use a little calm. Why was she so nervous anyway? A very friendly crowd was waiting out there. Quite possibly the friendliest she’d ever experienced.
The double doors sung open, and Emma’s mother sailed into the kitchen. “Is the food ready? I think our guests are about ready to eat the tables.”
Emma had started on the second tenderloin, but now she glanced up. “Everyone’s here?”
“Here and eager to see what you’ve created.” She took a step closer to the prep table. “Oh honey, that looks amazing. I think you outdid yourself.”
“Let’s hope so.” Emma handed her mother the first three finished plates, forcing her to balance them on her arm like a real waitress. “Start serving.”
Mary Bertram dipped her chin and then went out through the doors. Emma followed behind with more plates. The moment she hit the dining room, she stopped, taking a moment to appreciate the sight before her.
Along with the owners, Grace-Anne Carter and Dr. McCarthy, tonight’s guest list included Layla’s entire family. Her parents, the new set of grandparents, all of her half-siblings, including little Josh, as well as a couple of aunts and uncles, and even some cousins. Layla had not been kidding about having more family than she knew what to do with. Of course, Grayson was there, along with Annaliese and Brent. Noah and Chester sat with them, too.
Emma’s family had a table as well.
Her family.
She almost couldn’t believe how her own circle had expanded so completely. Imogene sat next to Reece, her arm looped through his. She had absorbed the revelation that Reece was her birth father with remarkable calm and maturity.
The fact that she also knew Emma was involved with him…might take a little more getting used to.
Paige was…Paige. She loved the romanticism of it all. She thought Reece coming to Shellwater Key to find Imogene, and then falling in love with the daughter of the man who’d raised his was like a fairy tale ending.
Emma had to laugh. She wondered what her father would think if he could see them all now. She hoped he would be happy.
Her mother was already making her way back to the kitchen for more plates. “Emma, don’t just stand there. We need to get this food out to our guests before it spoils. Stop swooning over your man and get to work.”
Emma sent her an exaggerated scowl. “When you’re working in my kitchen I should be referred to as “Chef”.”
Her mother arched a brow. “Excuse me…Chef. We should really get a move on, though.”
The scowl turned into a frown. “You’re supposed to be intimidated by me.”
“It’s hard to be intimidated by someone who can’t stop smiling.”
Emma made her expression go deliberately blank. “I can stop.”
“No…no please don’t.” She brushed Emma’s arm in a comforting gesture. “You have no idea how wonderful it is to see you so happy. I often despaired of you ever…” she trailed off and looked away.
“Despaired of what?”
“That you would ever let yourself love anyone fully,” her mother said. “I never wanted you to stop believing in happily ever after.”
“What about you?” Emma asked. “Do you want one for yourself? Do you think Brent could be—”
“Oh honey, it’s too soon to know if we have a real chance,” she said. “Brent has his own demons to conquer, but for now, I’m happy to know I can feel something for a man again.”
“Then I’m happy for you,” Emma said. “I hope it works out.”
Mary grinned. “Me too.”
Together, Emma and her mother hustled to serve everyone, and soon the dining room was filled wit
h the glorious sound of silverware clinking against plates and the low buzz of conversations happening at the various tables. Emma watched it all with a gathering sense of excitement. She could do this. She could create one of the best restaurants in town – maybe even the Southwest coast of Florida.
“Look at you right now.” Layla came up beside her and slung an arm over Emma’s shoulders. “I don’t think I need a spotlight to illuminate the stage. I can just use the glow from your face.”
“That is the face of someone who just realized this crazy scheme of yours just might work,” Emma said, hugging her friend. “Thank you for talking me into joining you.”
Layla’s arms tightened. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do it with anyone else. You made the kitchen come together. The food tonight was absolutely amazing.”
“Thank you.”
Layla’s green eyes warmed. “I’m also happy to see that things have worked out between you and Reece.”
The swirl of excitement in Emma’s chest rose even more. “If you’d told me a few months ago that I would fall for a lawyer, I would have laughed in your face.”
Layla chuckled. “What did I tell you about Greta turning your entire life around?”
“You were right.” Emma squeezed her friend’s hand. “You were right about a lot of things. Mostly that I needed to forgive my father and move past the hurt. Now that the anger is gone…I feel…renewed.”
“I’m glad.” Layla kissed her cheek. “I’m sorry it took losing your dad to make that happen, but I’m sure somehow he knows. I think he’d be very proud of you.”
“I hope so.” Emma couldn’t get back the lost years, but she could make the most of the years to come. She had her mom and her sisters to love…and Reece.
Layla turned her gaze to the dining room and sighed. “Now, if we can just find someone to manage the dining room…and the box office…not to mention the lobby. Aunt Grace has her heart set on selling key chains and painted fans again.”
Straight on Toward Paradise Page 32