I WAS A LITTLE late to the rehearsal dinner. Parking on a Friday night was a bitch. I hovered in the threshold of the ballroom, eyeing the crowd. There were at least two hundred people in attendance. If this was just the rehearsal dinner, I couldn’t imagine how many guests would be at the wedding tomorrow. I guess if your dad was a senator, you could expect half of Congress.
I scanned the crowd, spotting Mom looking half her age in a canary blue cocktail dress. She wove through the tables, laughing and smiling, shaking hands and kissing cheeks. She was in her element.
Her face lit up when she spotted me. She rushed over to greet me, taking both my hands in her own. “My sweet girl! You’re here!” She made a great show of kissing each cheek, her gaze flitting around to see who was watching us. “You couldn’t have worn something with a little bit of color?”
I glanced down at my black dress rather helplessly. It was classy. V-necked with tiny straps gathered loosely at the shoulders. My two-toned black and camel half boots looked good with it. Pepper and Georgia at least had expressed admiration. I’d tried on a number of outfits for their approval before landing on this ensemble.
“Don!” Mom called my stepfather over.
He extricated himself from the small circle of men he’d been deep in conversation with and approached me.
“Emerson.” He hugged me. I endured the stiff embrace. It never felt natural or genuine. It was weird to consider that we were related. I was on friendlier terms with my dentist.
“Don,” I returned.
“Glad you could make it.”
“Of course she made it,” Mom inserted, her gaze flicking around again, clearly desperate that no one overhear and get the idea that we were anything less than the perfect family.
“Come.” Mom linked arms with me. “Let’s mingle.”
The next thirty minutes was a whirlwind of introductions. I pasted a smile on my face, but I felt like I was holding my breath. Waiting for the moment when I would come face-to-face with Justin and Melanie.
It was as if Mom was distracting me. I could see the wariness in her eyes every time she looked at me. Like I might spit pea soup or something when I finally saw Justin. I guess she hadn’t thought this far ahead when she begged me to attend.
The inevitable happened when Melanie spotted me. She went from glowing to radiant as she hurried across the room to hug me. “Emerson! You came! I wish I’d known. I would have seated you at the head table—”
I laughed weakly. “That’s okay. Besides.” I looked around at everyone milling in the room. “Is anyone even sitting?”
Her fingers clung to my arms. “True.” She glanced around. “Everyone seems like they’re having a good time.”
“Of course they are,” Mom gushed. “The food is delish.” As if to prove her point, she plucked a lobster canapé from a passing tray and bit into it with a groan. “The champagne is superb. The orchestra is lovely.” She gestured widely with her hand. “It’s the Four Seasons.”
I resisted rolling my eyes. Nothing like Mom patting herself on the back. I’m surprised she wasn’t wearing a flashing button that read WORLD’S BEST HOSTESS.
“Have you seen Justin yet? He’ll be so thrilled you made it.” She stood on her tiptoes and searched the crush. “Oh! There he is! Justin!” She waved him over.
I followed her gaze. My stepbrother looked up. Grinning, he made his way over to us. My stomach churned as I assessed him. He’d changed in five years. He was a little bit thicker. No longer a lanky twenty-year-old. His jaw was less defined, his face somewhat bloated looking.
His small blue eyes leveled on me. “Emerson.” He folded me into his arms and it felt . . . okay. Brotherly and natural. “So glad you’re here. Thank you.” He patted my back, his voice softer, for my ears alone, “Thank you so much for coming.”
“Thanks. I’m glad I came.” I looked from him to Mom to Melanie, and I meant it. It was a good thing. I’d conquered my fears.
Mom beamed and squeezed my hand. “I knew you would.”
“C’mon. I want to introduce you to my parents.” Melanie pulled me after her. Justin followed, a dutiful fiancé, still smiling and shaking his head indulgently.
Over the next hour I was plied with drink and food and introduced to almost all two hundred people in attendance. At least it felt that way. Melanie kept me close to her side. “I’m just really mad at you, you know.” She pouted at me.
I blinked. “Why?”
“Because you didn’t come around sooner. You should be in my wedding, only now it’s too late.”
“Oh.” I smiled, flattered even as I was relieved that I wasn’t. Coming here tonight was one thing. Actually being in the wedding party? No thanks. “That’s okay, really.”
“No, you should be one of my bridesmaids. Seriously, my cousin, Pauline, who I can’t stand, is a bridesmaid. And you’re not. How does that make any sense?”
I stifled my cringe at the idea of me in Justin’s wedding. He might appear to have changed and I might really like his bride-to-be, but that would just be . . . weird.
I was saved from lying and agreeing that I wished I could be in her wedding when someone bumped me from behind and caused me to collide with Melanie. Her cocktail splashed down the front of my dress.
“Oh!” She patted at me with a napkin. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” I assured her. “It’s black. I’ll just go pat it dry.”
She clasped my hand and gave it a warm squeeze. “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
At that moment, Melanie’s mother appeared at her side. “Dear, you’ve hardly said more than a hello to Mrs. Rothman.”
Melanie looked at me uncertainly. “Ugh. I used to babysit for her.”
“You go. I’ll be fine,” I assured her.
Melanie’s mother nodded. “See? She’ll be fine, Melanie. Let her mingle. She’s a pretty girl. Some nice young man will latch on to her.” Melanie’s mother beamed at me and nodded, her well-coiffed hair not even moving with the action.
“Okay. I’ll find you in a little while.”
I nodded and worked my way through the crowd outside the ballroom. There was a line outside the ladies’ room, so I crossed the hotel lobby to use the restroom on the other side.
As I suspected, it was empty. I took my time, breathing in the silence and decompressing after the noise and deluge of people. As I washed my hands, I stared at my reflection for a long moment. The girl who stared back at me wasn’t the same girl from a couple of months ago. That girl would never have come tonight. She would never have faced her past or been open to the fact that maybe things could be different. That she could possibly have a relationship with her mother. That her stepbrother maybe wasn’t Satan after all—or at least not anymore.
Maybe. Maybe she could fall in love and have a normal relationship.
An image of Shaw filled my mind. Okay, above normal. Maybe I could have an amazing relationship with an amazing guy.
My reflection smiled slowly back at me, tentative and hopeful. With a lightness to my step, I exited the bathroom, my boot heels clicking on the tiled floor. I pushed through the door, stepped into the corridor, and stopped.
Justin was waiting there, leaning against the wall, one hand tucked casually into the front pocket of his slacks.
“Justin,” I said rather dumbly.
“Hey, Em.”
“Hello,” I replied, feeling my forehead crease. What was he doing here? “Did you follow me?”
“I just wanted a moment alone to thank you for coming. It was the last thing I expected after I called you.”
“Well.” I nodded. “You were right.”
He arched an eyebrow. “I was. About what?”
“Maybe it is time to move on and try to be a family.”
He smiled. “I’m so happy to hear you say that.” He pushed off the wall and advanced on me. “I’ve only ever wanted us to be friends. We were once, remember?”
I nodded, backing up until I couldn’t go any farther. “Yeah. Before that night.”
He flattened a hand against the wall, near my head. “About that night. I was wrong.” He shook his head. “It was so stupid of me.”
I exhaled. It was the closest he’d ever come to admitting what he did—the closest he’d ever come to an apology. “Thank you for saying that,” I murmured.
“I was drunk. You were young. I should have waited. You weren’t ready.” He dipped his head and smothered my lips with his, ramming his tongue inside my mouth.
Stunned, I pushed at his chest, shoving him back. He blinked down at me, startled. I slapped him, my palm connecting with a crack to his face.
He flattened a hand to his cheek. “What the hell—”
“What are you doing?” I shook my head. “I thought you had changed! I thought you were different, but here you are. The same prick you always were. Only now I’m not a little girl. So stay the fuck away from me.” I stabbed a finger in his chest.
He snatched hold of my finger. Unsmiling. Eyes hard. “I get it now. You came here for a little payback. Right?” He sneered. “You spread all those lies about me all those years ago and now you—”
“They weren’t lies,” I reminded him, tugging my finger free. “You know it happened.”
His upper lip curled over his teeth. “What happened was that you couldn’t leave me alone.”
“Me?”
Everything inside me burned to lash out. To remind him that I had been fifteen years old. If he hadn’t been so drunk, if I hadn’t run out of the room, if—
I blinked hard. Then that night would have ended very differently.
“Yeah. You kept throwing yourself at me from the moment our parents got together.”
Is that how he saw it? I had looked up to him like a brother. And he wrecked that, sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. I shook my head, unwilling to argue with him about what had really happened all those years ago. “Whatever. I didn’t come here to stir up the past.” No. I came here because I thought I was burying it. Stupid. I saw that now. “You’re still an asshole.” I tried to step around him, but he grabbed my shoulder and slammed me back against the wall. I bit my lip, muffling my cry.
“And you’re still just a cocktease.” He looked me up and down, his gaze lingering on my cleavage. I had thought the dress tasteful before. Classy. But the way he looked at me made me feel dirty.
He traced the neckline, his finger dipping inside to brush the top of my breasts. “Or maybe not such a cocktease anymore. I bet you spread your thighs plenty these days.” He shook his head and made a tsking sound with his tongue. “I fantasized about popping your cherry.”
“Go to hell.” I slapped his hand away from me.
He chuckled, looking me over. “No little girl anymore.”
“That’s right. I’m not a little girl anymore. You don’t scare me. And you can’t do this to me.” Not again. “Maybe I’ll march in there and tell Melanie—”
His creepy smile vanished. “You stay away from Melanie.” He jabbed a finger close to my face again. “One word and you’ll see just how big of an asshole I can really be.”
His fingers tightened on my shoulder and I winced, certain he was bruising me, but determined not to show he was succeeding in hurting me. “What’s the matter? Afraid she’ll believe me?”
Beneath his mask of fury, I read the anxiety there. Yeah. He was worried. Maybe something had happened before. Maybe she already had doubts where he was concerned, but he had persuaded her to his side.
“You little cunt,” he bit out. “Don’t fuck with me—”
“Justin?”
I sucked in a breath and looked around him for the source of that soft voice, even though I knew gut deep who I would see.
Melanie hovered there in her beautiful yellow dress. The pink flush that had brightened her cheeks all evening had vanished. She looked pale as bone as she clutched her hands together in front of her.
“Justin, what are you doing?” Her keen blue eyes flitted back and forth between us.
“Nothing, pumpkin.” He advanced on her quickly, taking her clutched hands into his. “Emerson and I were just talking—”
“You called her a . . . you called her a horrible name.” It didn’t surprise me that she couldn’t say the word. She probably never had, and she clearly couldn’t fathom why he would.
Melanie swung her gaze on me, pinning me to the spot. “Emerson?” My name hung there, heavy with question as she tugged her hands from his.
I shrugged helplessly. What could I say? Should I actually open my mouth and warn her about the kind of man she was marrying? “I’m sorry, Melanie.”
She gazed at me with those large blue eyes and it was like she was peering into my soul, searching for the truth.
“Emerson,” Justin growled, the sound low and deep. Threatening. Melanie glanced at him sharply. She hadn’t missed his tone either.
Screw it. She’d heard enough already. I could see it in her face, in the stiff way she held herself. She wasn’t stupid. “He doesn’t deserve you,” I declared.
She could take what she wanted from that. I didn’t need to say anything else. I unglued my feet from the floor. Shaking, I moved past her down the corridor.
I was back in the ballroom before it occurred to me to wonder what I was even doing here anymore. There was no reason for me to stay. Except maybe Mom. My gaze drifted toward her. She had been almost human tonight. Like a real mother. I moved toward her, compelled to say good-bye at least.
“Emerson.” Her face brightened when she saw me.
“Hey, Mom . . . I have to go.”
She frowned. “What? They haven’t even served dessert.”
I glanced over my shoulder, almost expecting Justin to appear at any moment and continue tearing me down. Thankfully, I didn’t see him. He was probably still sweet-talking Melanie. I turned back to face Mom. “I’m sorry. I have this thing early tomorrow.”
“But the wedding—”
“I’ll be there,” I lied. It was easier to just assure her of that. I’d come up with some excuse over my absence later.
Her frown softened, making her look somewhat mollified.
“And, Mom.” I shifted on my feet. “Maybe we can go to lunch next week.”
She stared at me and I wasn’t sure what she was thinking—and I wasn’t going to find out because the voice behind me chased every other thought in my head away.
“Emerson.”
I whirled around, my gaze sweeping over Shaw’s tall form. Heart hammering, I stepped up to him. “What are you doing here? How did you—” I stopped and shook my head, not bothering to finish the question.
“You weren’t answering my texts.” Had he been texting me? I hadn’t even glanced at my phone since I’d parked the car and tucked it into my clutch. Now I wished I had. I wished I had fed him some excuse. A lie. Anything to have stopped him from coming here. “And I remembered that tonight was the rehearsal dinner . . .” He glanced around, waving a hand to encompass the room before settling his gaze back on me, searching. “I got the feeling you might be here.”
I inhaled thinly. Of course. Melanie had announced the rehearsal dinner was at the Four Seasons. He knew where to find me.
He stepped closer, his chest brushing mine and everything inside me quivered. At his nearness. At the husky pitch of his voice. “What are you doing here?” He lifted his hand, touching my hair, rubbing several strands between his fingertips. “I thought we agreed—”
“I agreed to nothing.” I tried to sound casual, but defensiveness crept into my voice. “I didn’t think I was coming, but I changed my mind. I can do that, you know.”
His jaw ticked, signaling his displeasure.
“Emerson?” Mom was there, at my side, her voice full of question as she looked Shaw up and down. He was dressed more formally than I had ever seen him, in slacks and a button-down shirt, and I knew he had tried. For me. And yet he still looked apart from everyone here. More virile. Strong. Rough edged. A man who made his living with his hands and not a spreadsheet. Something melted a little inside me. I think I might have kissed him right then if we weren’t standing in the middle of my stepbrother’s rehearsal dinner with Mom’s face set to full-on glare.
I turned to her with a bright smile. “Mom, this is—” My voice stalled. Did I really want to introduce Shaw as my boyfriend and endure an inquisition from her on the subject? Was he even that? Aside from introducing himself to Melanie that way, we hadn’t discussed what we were. He hadn’t asked me.
“Shaw,” he supplied, sticking his hand out for her. Only I knew him well enough by now to know that the smile was strained. He didn’t like her. Not knowing all he did. He couldn’t like her.
She stared at his hand for a moment as if not sure whether she should touch it or not. She looked from his extended hand to his person again and her lip seemed to curl back over her teeth.
“Nice to meet you.” Her fingers settled lightly on his hand as though afraid to touch him any more than that.
“A pleasure, ma’am.”
“I didn’t realize Emerson had checked plus one.” Accusation hummed beneath the comment.
I bit back a snort. I hadn’t even sent the RSVP card in. I had only decided I was coming last night. Less than twenty-four hours ago when I was naked and in bed with the guy standing in front of me.
Oh, what I would have given to be back in bed with him now rather than standing here.
“Are you a student at Dartford?” Mom asked, plucking a glass of wine off a passing tray.
“No, ma’am.”
“Oh?” She looked him over again. “Another school in the area? Or did you graduate already?” She smiled slightly, like that must be it. Like it had to be that because anything else would be unacceptable.
“I don’t go to college.”
Her perfectly smooth face looked doll-like in its utter lack of expression. Only in her eyes could I read her total lack of comprehension. Her overly plump, glossy lips finally managed to form words. “As in . . . ever?” She looked at me as if needing confirmation and then back to him. “What do you do?”
This is where if he announced he had a fat trust all would be right in her eyes.
“Since I got out of the Marines, I’ve been working as a mechanic.”
“A mechanic?”
Oh. God. Her body actually shuddered as if he’d confessed himself to be a serial killer. Her eyes looked ready to bug out. She was so blatantly horrified I actually felt the crazy urge to laugh.
She looked at me, that impossibly immobile face of hers looking ready to crack. “Are you serious, Emerson?” Her gaze flitted wildly about the room, as if expecting someone to jump out with a hidden camera and declare all this a joke. Or maybe she was just worried someone would point at Shaw and identify him as the hardworking blue-collar middle-class guy he was.
I shook my head and reached for Shaw’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go.” I was finished here. Justin’s ugly words echoed in my ears. I didn’t have to wonder anymore. He hadn’t changed. Nothing had. I had no family here.
I didn’t make it one foot, however. I stopped breathing when I heard the voice at my back.
“There you are, you little bitch.”