Emily

Dana called as I was gathering my things to leave and said she was outside with mocha lattes. I knew Ethan would wonder where I was if I ran late, so I sent him a quick text and left Arthur to finish locking up and setting the alarms.

Sure enough, Dana was in a waiting taxi, head peeking out the window. “Get in, loser.” She was always quoting our favorite movies, and that one was a classic.

I would have stood there and bantered back and forth, but it was freezing, and she had coffee in there, so I caved.

Once I was inside, she handed me a double-cupped latte and grinned. “Something to warm you up. I considered bringing an ice pack for your vag, just in case Ethan wrecked it last night, but I figured if it was that bad, we could just pack it with snow.”

“You’re in a saucy mood today.” I cast a glance at the driver, who was getting an earful courtesy of my unfiltered bestie. “Get flung again, did you?”

“Tied.” She grinned, sipping from her cup.

I chuckled. “Freak.”

“You know it. And there’s more to come, since I’m working a split shift tonight.” She emphasized the word split in a way that made me giggle. “I had an hour or two to kill, so I thought I’d drag you off for a quick bite and some long overdue dishing.”

“Sounds perfect.” I found myself tearing up. “I’ve missed this—being able to tell you everything. It was like part of me was walled off, inaccessible even to me. I’m so glad he told you.”

“I’d never been so shocked in my life.” She glanced at the driver. “Or so honored to have someone’s trust.” She might have been exuberant, but she wasn’t reckless.

“He decided if I trusted you, he should too.”

“And I’m glad he did, but I meant you. I know you pushed for this, even if you didn’t have to push as much as you thought. When you told him you needed me, needed not to lie to me, you risked everything you two have. And I can’t tell you how much I love you for that.”

Dammit, now she’s gone and made me cry.

“You’re my family, Dana. For a long time, you’ve been my only family. Of course, I risked it for you. I’d do anything for you.”

She coughed hard and whisked away a few tears of her own. “Yeah, well, I may make you prove that.”

“Name it.”

“Meet Blake. Not that he’s a boyfriend or anything, but I want you to come to the bar and just take a peek so you can put a face with the name.”

“Not a boyfriend, huh?”

“Hell no. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need to at least see him, make sure he passes inspection.”

“Fine. But if I see him being a jerk to you…”

“You’ll keep your trap shut. I told you, it’s not like it was before.”

“Like I said…freak.”

She shrugged it off and offered no apologies. “Maybe after the holidays, though, since he’s tied up in his office a lot of the time these days, doing the books and inventory or whatever.”

The taxi pulled over, and Dana paid before we both climbed out onto the freezing sidewalk.

“Tied up, huh?” I snorted.

“Once or twice.” Her eyes sparkled as she grinned back at me. “And he’s not always in there doing books, either.”

“I’ll definitely wait until the new year, then. And I’ll give fair warning before I drop by so everyone can be freed from their bondage in time for my visit.”

A guy walking past caught the tail end of the conversation and chuckled, making us both crack up.

We strolled into the locally adored deli we liked to frequent. They had half-sandwiches stacked insanely high with meat and cups of soup so delicious it was hard to eat it without moaning into our spoons.

Everything we’d kept bottled up these last few weeks came pouring out, and I was surprised to find that I actually did want to meet—or at least check out—the asshat. He sounded more interesting by the minute, and Dana gushed way more than someone who was enjoying no-strings hookups.

I almost gave her the same ‘it’s a fling not forever’ speech she gave me, but I decided not to. Something told me she was happy no matter where they were headed, and I wasn’t about to get in the way of that.

We talked about Ethan—though without using either of his names or speaking directly about his art, just on the off chance that someone was listening in.

It was all going so well.

Then my damn phone started ringing with the unmistakable sound of my mother’s ringtone.

Dana groaned and sat back from our conversation, knowing full well I’d have to answer or she’d never give up.

“Hello, Mother.” I had to take a sip of my coffee to wash the bitter taste of her name from my palate.

“Don’t hello me. Do you know what I’m looking at right now?”

I could guess from her tone whatever it was pissed her off.

“No, enlighten me,” I drawled, knowing it would only antagonize her.

Dana chortled across from me.

“Don’t you be sassy with me. Especially not when I’m looking at online photos of you with some tattooed musician’s arm around you, like you’re some groupie. What are you thinking, getting involved with such unsavory characters? What will people think?”

The look of rage on my face startled Dana upright, and she muttered, “Shit’s about to go down.”

I nodded to her even as I addressed my mother. “First of all, the musician whose arm was around me has no visible tattoos that I’ve seen. The rest of the band is pretty inked up, though. For instance, the drummer—who bangs like a champ, in case you were interested—has two full sleeves.”

Mother sucked in a breath. “Emily—”

“Second, I’m not a groupie. I’m part of their family, which is a step up from being part of yours, I assure you.” Dana was about to piss herself laughing and nodding along as I went. “And third, those unsavory characters spent hundreds of thousands of dollars that morning giving away instruments—mostly to kids. What have you done this holiday season to help even one child? Better yet, what have you done for your own child this whole year or last year or the year before that? Nothing. Not a goddamn thing. So, don’t you dare judge them because you don’t like the way they look.”

“If your father could hear the way you—”

“My father was an artist. One whose talent you squashed because it wasn’t something you could capitalize on. You couldn’t make his art about you, so you made him give it up. You didn’t care about him, only about what his accomplishments meant for your social standing. You used him to make yourself look important, and you used me to make people feel sorry for you after he was gone. You didn’t care about me unless there was an audience. The dutiful, heartbroken widow raising a child on her own. Well, I’m done. You want to play the victim, use the distance between us as a way to gain sympathy from those overfunded old crows you call friends, so be it. Be sure to tell them I said this…don’t call me again, mother. I’m done. You should be able to milk that for a good long time if you play your cards right. Have fun with that. Oh, and Merry Christmas.”

I hung up and Dana stood, throwing her chair back as she cheered like an idiot right in the middle of the restaurant.

“It’s about damn time!” she hollered, high-fiving me.

“Damn, that felt like therapy.” I blew out a big breath. “I’ve been wanting to do that for so long, but it just felt like a waste of energy. But when she started talking about Ethan and Jared and the guys…”

“I’ve never been so close to full-on kissing a chick in my life as I am right now. You were fucking savage.” Dana could not have looked prouder.

My anger still bubbled under the surface, but it was more of a slow simmer now. “As amazing as those guys are, as much good as they’ve done, as many people as they’ve positively impacted…and that wretched bitch had the gall to talk shit about them? Nope. Not happening.”

“Em…” Dana tipped her head toward my plate, and I realized my poor sandwich was crushed to mush in my hands.

“Whoops. I was picturing her throat.” I used a napkin to clean the chipotle sauce from my fingers.

“You know, I love Ethan and the guys too, but some of that anger you have had better be for yourself. She’s been running you into the ground your whole life, and you deserve to be angry for Emily as much as for the band. Understand?”

I took a sip of my coke and wished I had some Jack to put in it. “You’re right. And I stuck up for myself too, but without her attacks on Ethan, I might never have been pushed far enough to do it.”

“You’re protective. I get it. It’s your nurturing instinct—one I know goddamn well didn’t come from her.”

“Definitely not.” I chuckled, throwing my napkin on my plate and signaling it was time to go. “This has been great. I needed this—all of it—so much. But I’m fidgety as hell now, so I’m thinking I should get back to the loft and make use of this surge of adrenaline.”

She was still laughing as we threw away our trash and headed outside.

“Taxi!” she yelled. When one screeched to a stop a moment later, she ushered me inside with a huge grin. “Drummer boy is about to have his day made.”

He sure as hell was.

I’d already made mine.