Broken by Love (The Basin Lake Series Book 2) Page 11

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  EMMA

  “So, when’s the wedding?” Burk asks me when there’s a lull in customers.

  “What are you talking about?” I say, trying to force my smile down.

  He looks at me knowingly. “You were just humming, dear. It’s becoming a regular occurrence.”

  “I didn’t realize,” I say, though the thought that I’ve been unwittingly humming around the shop makes me glad. The last time I’d done something like that was when I was a little girl, when I’d been truly happy.

  “Believe me, I’m not complaining. I think it’s wonderful, but I just wish you’d tell me who this mystery boy is and put me out of my misery!”

  I hadn’t told Burk much about John, and I’d gone out of my way to tell John my place of employment looked down on personal visits. I’d been trying to keep him out of certain segments of my life because I figured it would be easier when he’d eventually decide to dump me. If he became a regular visitor to Patrice’s, how could I even come to work without thinking of him after the imagined breakup we might have?

  But I’m beginning to consider that thinking that way might only serve to jinx us.

  “His name is John Mercer,” I say in a hopeful flurry of words, his name falling lightly off my tongue. “And yes, I’m in love, and yes, it’s wonderful.”

  “Well, was that so hard to say?” Burk is wrapping his arms around me before I can even think to stop him. I’m blushing when he lets go, but I also join him with some laughter.

  “It’s weird for me to be this happy,” I admit, shaking my head and hoping Burk won’t expect hugs from me every day.

  “But doesn’t it feel wonderful? Oh, I’m so happy for you, Emma! There’s not another girl who deserves it more than you do.”

  “I’m sure that’s not true,” I say, though I do feel pretty fortunate, even if John’s parents still need to be won over.

  “Oh, it is. And when am I going to get to meet this boy?”

  I take in a breath and smile even wider. “He’s picking me up after work.”

  “Is he now?”

  “He’s taking me over to Seattle Central College so I can hand in some paperwork.” I’d planned for John to meet me outside, but now decide I’ll send him a text and ask him to come in and meet Burk.

  “College? You aren’t leaving me, are you?”

  “No,” I say. “Not yet at least.”

  After our glorious afternoon in that hotel room, John and I had been inseparable. Our constant closeness was overwhelming in one sense because I’d feared what might happen if it were taken away from me, imagining a void that could never be filled. But in our many conversations, John had asked me again what I wanted for my future, not just our future together. I’d reiterated that being able to professionally design clothes, shoes and handbags was still firmly in my dream category.

  “So make it real,” he said after we’d had sex, made love, in his room one night. “Sign up for some classes. It can’t hurt.”

  There had been a time in my life when college, a four-year institution, had been a very real part of my future. And when my mother’s drinking got worse and I saw less and less of my dad, it became even more important to me, a way to escape the insecurity of my family and create a life of my own. But after Mr. Thatcher, that dream had slowly fizzled into nothingness.

  Burk is overwhelmed with interest when John picks me up, and he can’t help but to tell John to his face how good looking he is. “Well, nothing but the best for my sweet Emma here. Do you know how many times she gets hit on in the course of a day? And by married men, no less! They can’t help themselves!”

  “Burk,” I warn, turning red with embarrassment. “John doesn’t need to hear about any of that.”

  “But what if I do?” John teases before I grab his arm and drag him out of the shop. “Should I be worried about these married men?” he continues jokingly once we’re in his SUV, then on the way up the hill and out of downtown.

  “Hardly,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

  “Well, that’s good.” He puts his hand on my thigh. “I do realize there’s going to be plenty of competition for you, Emma.”

  “John, don’t be silly. I could say the same for you.”

  “Then I guess we both just have to promise not to be tempted by any exterior forces.” His smile is so sweet and jovial. He must know I’d never allow another man into my life.

  Seattle Central is on Capital Hill, one of the most diverse and vibrant neighborhoods in Seattle. I’d spent plenty of hours hanging out on Broadway, the street the college faces, once Mom had moved us away from North Seattle. I’d loved its energy, the constant activity, the shops and the food. It’s actually nice to have a reason to be up here again on a regular basis.

  John holds my hand as we walk up to the college together. I can’t imagine this community college is as impressive to him as it is to me. He’s already graduated pre-law at the University of Washington and will begin law school there in the coming weeks. But he doesn’t do anything to deter me or make me feel as though this isn’t good enough as we enter the large brick building so I can drop off some paperwork and sign up for a placement test.

  “This is just the beginning,” he says as we leave, still hand in hand.

  “Of what?” I ask, warmed by his smile.

  “Of Emma Chambers Designs of course. I’ll be able to say I was here with you when it all began.”

  “Silly.” I lean against him and wonder what I’d done to get so lucky.

  “Emma?”

  It’s a young woman’s voice that calls my name, and I turn toward it without even thinking.

  “I thought that was you,” she says.

  “Jennifer?” She looks the same in so many ways, her red hair a little longer, her makeup slightly more sophisticated, but still the pretty girl who’d been my best friend until I transferred schools junior year. She’d been in the same science class as me when I’d met Mr. Thatcher—she knew everything that had happened with he and I, and that reminder pinches at my stomach.

  “Oh, my god, it’s been forever!” She closes in on me and looks over to John with a smile.

  “Um, this is my friend, Jennifer,” I say to John, a little shaken, my heart pounding. “And this is my boyfriend, John.”

  “Your boyfriend? Wow, that’s great!”

  “Hey, nice to meet you,” John says, putting his hand out.

  “You too!” Jennifer takes it, as bubbly as I remember her. She’d give Meg and Court a run for their money.

  “Are you going to school here?” I ask, suddenly fearful of our conversation veering toward anything to do with the past.

  “Yeah,” she says, though she doesn’t look too happy about it. “I’d been lined up to go to UW, but some things fell through, and my brother got injured in Afghanistan, so I’m going to go here for a year and hope to transfer next fall.”

  “I’m so sorry. Is Kevin okay?”

  “Yes, he’ll be all right,” she says, looking to John again. “He used to have a huge crush on Emma… oh my god… why did I even say that!”

  “It’s okay,” John says with a laugh. “As long as he doesn’t still have that crush.”

  “Oh, he probably does—a lot of guys did.”

  I catch her eyes and shake my head as subtly as I’m able. Not only is she embarrassing the hell out of me, but she’s also veering toward dangerous territory.

  John holds my waist a bit tighter.

  “I’m usually not this inappropriate,” Jennifer offers. “It’s seriously the coffee and the nerves and not seeing this girl in well over a year.”

  She seemed to get the gist of my head shake, but she’s also looking at me like she’s not happy with the way I’d allowed our friendship to lapse.

  “We can meet up for coffee if you want,” I offer, wanting to go before anything else can be said but not wanting to blow her off. I’d missed her and would love the opportunity to catch up.

 
; “Put your number in,” she says, handing her phone to me.

  I take it, enter my digits, then hand hers back along with mine.

  “So, we’ll meet up soon then?” she asks, adding her number and handing my phone back, just as I begin to pull John away.

  “Definitely,” I answer, and I do mean it.

  “Nice meeting you,” John says.

  “And you too,” Jennifer answers, somewhat dazzled by John I think.

  “She seemed nice,” he says once we’ve walked a block or so.

  “She is, very nice. I’ve been bad about keeping up with my old friends.”

  “Well, looks like maybe you’ll have the chance of reconnecting now.”

  “Yeah. I hope so.”

  And I do hope for that, but when I begin to think about having coffee with Jennifer, I fear the subject of Mr. Thatcher, as well as other things, will undoubtedly come up.

  JOHN

  If not for the internship at my family’s law offices to ground me to earth, I think I’d have floated up into the clouds with the way I feel about Emma. Being with her in that hotel had been everything I’d imagined we could be and more. There had only been three girls before her, but I hadn’t connected with any of them in the way I did with Emma, not even with Madison who has at least stopped contacting me… for now.

  Emma and I have had sex every night since then and sometimes during the day when time has permitted. If I could, I’d hold her naked body close to mine every hour of the day and never grow tired of her touch or the feeling she evokes in me. And yet, between all of the sex, we’d had long conversations about our hopes and our dreams. It’s never easy to draw them out of Emma, but eventually she relents and tells me two or three things that she holds dear to her heart, things that I sometimes think I’m the only person she’s telling.

  When she talked about her love of design again and I’d pressed her to envision a future beyond Patrice’s, I’d helped her work out a plan to register at Seattle Central, take a few classes, and get her feet wet. I’d been happy to go with her today, and even happier when she’d run into an old friend.

  “Here after office hours I see.” Michael walks into the small office I’d taken over so I didn’t have to work alongside Dad.

  “I’m just about finished,” I say, pleased to see my brother. “Then another week, and I’m done. Dad can’t say I didn’t keep my word about fulfilling my role here.”

  “Ah, the dutiful son,” Michael teases as he sits in the plush chair across from my small desk.

  “Except in matters of love,” I remind him. I’d barely spoken to my dad in the days following Labor Day, and I’d turned down several invites to lunch with Mom.

  “They’ll come around,” Michael offers. “You know they’re just looking out for your best interests.”

  I shake my head. “If they can’t see that Emma is in my best interest, then I’m not sure where that leaves us.”

  “Ah, don’t let it get to you, brother. If I had a dollar for every girl Mom and Dad disapproved of, I could pay my coffee tab for at least a week.”

  “And somehow I’m the one they look at with a microscope.”

  “Madison was good for you,” Michael begins and immediately puts his hands up, as if telling me to put my brakes on and hear him out. “I know you don’t want to hear it, and I’m not saying she’s good for you now, but that’s what Mom and Dad are going off of. They had cause for concern when you were with Alicia.”

  My jaw tenses, and I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath to steady my nerves. Nobody seems to want to allow me to forget about something that feels so very far in my past.

  “I need to finish this up,” I reply curtly. “So, if that’s all you want to talk about, then I guess I’ll see you some other time.”

  “Sorry, brother. I didn’t mean to go there.”

  I nod, my jaw still tight.

  “I’m heading back to New York tomorrow. I was hoping to take you to dinner, maybe some drinks. I could call up Stephen and Denny to join us—that little bastard never did make it to the Labor Day thing.”

  “I’m envious of him for that,” I say.

  “Well, water under the bridge. What do you say to dinner?” Michael eyes me expectantly.

  “I told Emma I’d pick her up after I finished here.”

  “Well, then have her join us,” he says easily.

  “I’m not sure she’d be up for that.”

  “Come on, it’s my last night in town, brother.”

  I love Michael, and I miss the hell out of him, and I know I’d be a major dick if I blew this off.

  “I’ll see if she’s okay with that,” I say, figuring Emma will say yes, even if it’s the last thing she’d want to do.

  EMMA

  I’d seen Denny and Stephen at the house several times since Labor Day, but I’d not seen Michael or Court or Meg who are all at the bar and grill everyone is meeting at downtown. Part of me expects to see Mr. and Mrs. Mercer saunter up to the table, but after we’re all seated, I’m thankful that doesn’t happen.

  Most everyone has drinks, except for me, and I’m actually okay with it. John fulfills me in a way that alcohol can’t, and my intake has reduced to practically nothing. I wish I could stop altogether, but I still have moments of panic that my past will come back to haunt me, and alcohol is the only thing that seems to settle that fear.

  “Where’s Angela?” Court asks Stephen who has been checking out the very attractive waitress.

  “She seems to have tired of me.”

  “You don’t sound all that upset about it,” Meg chimes in.

  Stephen looks at me as if he needs to tread lightly, then turns his attention back to the girls. “Hey, I’m not sure what to say. I don’t think she was looking for anything long-term.”

  “You okay?” John whispers into my ear, his warm hand on the bare part of my thigh.

  I nod. “Yeah, of course.”

  There is a part of me that wishes Angela was here with us, but she’d texted me the night of Labor Day to tell me she’d broken up with Stephen and was ready to start “being single” and hit the club scene again. She’d wanted me to ditch John as well and jump start our pilgrimages back to places like Rampage, but I’d replied with a very solid no. I missed dancing, but sneaking into clubs and being tempted by copious amounts of alcohol wasn’t a place I wanted to revert back to.

  “Well, here’s to whomever is in your future,” Michael says, raising his glass to Stephen.

  Court, Meg and Denny follow, and somewhat reluctantly, John and I do too.

  “And here’s to your safe journey home,” Stephen says to Michael while our glasses are still raised. “How many girls you have waiting for you in New York?”

  “A few,” he says with a smirk, lowering his glass.

  “God, you single guys are such whores,” Meg says, all of our glasses set back down on the table. “Well, expect for you.” She turns to Denny who appears taken aback by the backhanded compliment.

  “Wow, make me sound like a loser,” he says without a hint of sarcasm.

  “Why don’t either of you date him?” Michael asks, looking solidly at Meg and Court. It’s a question I’ve wondered about myself, especially considering how red Court had gotten during Secrets and Lies when Meg said she’d been pining away for Denny during their trip to Italy.

  “Have we ever dated any of you?” Court says with a disgusted face that I think is just put on. “It would be like incest. You guys are like our brothers.”

  John turns to me and raises a brow at the discourse unfolding before us. “Don’t judge me by my friends,” he whispers.

  “Never,” I say with a quick smile.

  The rest of the evening goes along as well as could be expected, and I find myself laughing right along with everyone and beginning to feel like an actual part of this group, almost like one of the girls even though I’m younger than Meg and Court and am only a part of their set because I’m dating John.

>   When Meg sees an old friend she recognizes, just as we’re finishing our dessert, she pulls Court, Denny and John away for a quick reunion. John tries to drag me along, but I push him to go see the old friend and tell him I’ll be fine here.

  “The younger ones running off in their own little group is when my and Stephen’s age shows.” Michael switches seats so that he’s right next to me.

  “Oh?” I say, wondering if I’d really have noted much of a difference had I not known Michael was five years older than his brother.

  “They all looked up to us, and I think Stephen and I always liked it when Denny and John tagged along… and eventually the girls too. They’re like our kid sisters.”

  “Sure are,” Stephen agrees with what seems like an expression of nostalgia.

  “What was John like as a kid?” I ask, seeing an opening to procure any adorable revelations Michael can offer me about his younger brother.

  “He was a good kid, right Stephen?”

  Stephen nods. “Definitely.”

  “He loved baseball. Played all through the private school we all went to, except for that one year.” Michael shakes his head. “Nearly got thrown out.”

  “Of school?”

  “Yep, off his baseball team too.”

  “For what?” I find it difficult to believe John could do something bad enough to warrant that.

  Michael sighs. “Emma, I don’t want you to think I’m being an asshole here, but I know you met John at a club, and I know you snuck in with a guy Stephen seems to think looked like a drug dealer.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Stephen looking away.

  “So, what I’m going to say might hurt,” he continues, “but if you’re a hardcore party girl… if you do drugs beyond the recreational… then please don’t drag my brother down into that again. It’s the last thing he needs.”

  I’m too stunned to answer.

  Drag him down… again?

  I feel attacked while at the same time pegged for what I really am, a girl who lost her way the moment I slept with Mr. Thatcher. And I’m doing my best not to cry, but it’s difficult with Stephen and Michael both watching me. I should get up and find John, but I’m frozen in place, unable to move.