15
Emmy
Back in New York, Ben and I huddled close as we left the airport. The temperature was in stark contrast to the mild autumn air back home. I pulled my navy pea coat around my chest and burrowed into the scarf looped around my neck.
Ben guided me toward the waiting black sedan at the curb.
Henry.
It was nice not having to hail a cab. Especially since I’d never mastered the talent, despite being a New Yorker now. At this rate I wouldn’t have to. Being part of Ben’s life was amazing. Chauffeured car service, flying first class to cities around the globe, room service, and plenty of sex. I had a feeling once reality set in with dirty dishes, piles of laundry, and all the other annoyances of real life, I’d be in for a rude awakening. But for now I was living the dream.
Ben’s knuckles rapped against the trunk as Henry popped it open and hopped out of the car to assist. I slid into the backseat and let them fight over putting the bags in the back. A quick glance in the rearview mirror told me Ben won, maneuvering both our bags inside and refusing Henry’s help. We hadn’t discussed where we were heading but I gave Henry my address and then dared a glance at Ben. His face was impassive. Good. At least I wasn’t being scolded for wanting to go home.
We drove along the Grand Central Parkway, the sun glistening off the river below and warming my cheeks. Even if New York didn’t quite feel like home, it was nice to be back. I’d been living out of a suitcase for far too long between Fiji and Tennessee. Plus I missed Ellie. I missed her like crazy.
As we stopped in front of my building, Ben exited the car to retrieve my suitcase, and to my surprise, guided me up the stairs. “Are you staying?” I asked. I figured he’d be as eager to get home as I was.
“For a bit, if that’s okay. There’s something we need to discuss.”
I nodded and rescued my keys from the bottom of my purse before letting us inside.
Ellie was sprawled across the couch, blankets strewn around her prone body and a tub of ice cream sitting on her chest. “Argh . . .” She pulled the spoon from her mouth and sat up abruptly.
“Hi.” I waved. Damn, I really needed to learn to give her a warning knock or something. She looked like hell. Baggy, stained sweatshirt and hair in a messy bun. “Everything okay?” I asked. It wasn’t even noon and she was hitting the peanut butter fudge ice cream pretty hard.
“Men fucking suck,” she announced.
“All of them or someone in particular?”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to my room.”
Okay then. I’d talk to her once Ben was gone, figure out what in the world had happened. She hadn’t been dating anyone when we’d left for Fiji.
Ben carried my suitcase into my bedroom and I trailed behind him. After depositing the bag on the floor at the end of my bed, he turned to face me. “There’s something we need to discuss.” He ran a hand down my spine, stopping at my hip to pull me close. He bent down to brush his mouth against the side of my head.
Flutters of heat shot up my spine, coloring my neck. “What?”
“There’s something I want,” he continued.
I’d give him anything. But the intense stare he was directing my way was intimidating. “W-What do you want?”
“Move in with me.”
Whoa. What? I thought we’d covered this. “Ben.”
“I hate when I have to take you home and leave you behind. I want you with me every night. I want to wake up with you every morning.”
“Be serious. We haven’t been dating very long.”
“I am being serious, Emmy. Why not?”
He didn’t know all my disgusting habits. And I didn’t want to know his. I needed my own space, my own bathroom time, for heaven’s sake. “Don’t you want your space?”
He stepped closer, his eyes locking on mine. “No. I want you in my space. You’re mine. I hate the thought of leaving you here.”
“You just need a warm body next to you to sleep.”
His mouth twitched in a smile. “There is that. But not just any warm body.” His hands curled around my waist. “This body.” Sliding his hands lower, he caressed my hips lightly. “This tempting, sexy body,” he whispered near my ear, sending chill bumps racing down my spine. “Plus we should live together for a while before we make things official, right?”
Did he mean . . .? No, I couldn’t be distracted right now, though. I had to tend to Ellie. I’d been a horrible roommate and a worse friend the past several weeks. Removing his hands from sinking any lower, I took a step back. My head was a mess. He was standing in my tiny bedroom telling me he was committed to this—to us—and wanted to share an address with me. “I need to talk to Ellie. Can I call you later?”
His mouth tightened into a line and his eyes settled on mine. Shit. He’d been vulnerable with me, opened up and explained his need to keep me close and his fear of rejection. And here I was, ready to reject his proposal. I took his hand in mine and squeezed. “Actually, I could come over later if you like. I just need to make sure Ellie’s okay.”
His mouth relaxed and he leaned down to kiss my forehead. “I’ll send Henry back in a few hours.”
“Okay.” I wondered if I’d ever ride the subway again. Not if Ben had his way. I’d be chauffeured around the city like a kept woman. But I’d address that later. I didn’t want to refuse his generosity. We did, however, need to have a talk about boundaries and maintaining my freedoms at some point soon.
After seeing Ben out and locking the door at his insistence, I sought out Ellie, tapping lightly on her bedroom door. “Ells?”
“Yeah?” Her voice was rough. Agitated.
“Can I come in?” I peeked my head inside. She was curled up under a mound of blankets, staring blanking at her little TV in the corner. “Ellie? Are you okay?”
“Just fucking lovely.” Her tone was laced with sarcasm. “Not to be a bitch, but the last thing I need right now is to be around two people in love.”
“What happened?”
“Men happened. I’m done with them. I’m done with their bullshit excuses, their selfishness, waiting for them to call. I don’t need them. I have two perfectly wonderful, functioning vibrators and I’ll be taking care of myself from now on, thank you very much.”
“Oh . . . kay.” I wasn’t sure what had brought this on. The last I knew she was single and wasn’t really dating. “Did you go out with someone new?”
“Doesn’t matter.” She waved a dismissive hand. “Already forgotten.”
“He didn’t call, did he?”
“Nope. That asshat.”
“I’m sorry, baby. I’ll get the vodka.”
“Thanks, pookie.” She smiled at me weakly.
I loved how simple things were with Ellie. She was tough and smart and independent, yet in a lot of ways still needed someone to rely on. Deep in my heart I wanted to consider Ben’s invitation to move in with him but I’d feel terrible leaving her—and now certainly wasn’t the time to bring it up.
When I returned to her bedroom with two vodka–cranberry juice cocktails, Ellie was at least sitting up in her bed this time. She happily accepted her drink and took a long sip.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, sipping my own drink.
“Not at all. Now, tell me . . . are you moving in with him or what?” she asked.
“I, um, I don’t know. He wants me to, I just don’t know if I’m ready.”
She nodded, watching me with soulful eyes. “You know I love having you here, but don’t let me stop you. You’re stuck with me no matter where you live.”
I smiled at her. “True.” Our friendship wasn’t defined by my address. “I think I’m just scared of jumping into his world so completely.”
She nodded. “Then take your time and think about it.”
“I will.” The thing about Ben that she didn’t understand was his need for love and acceptance. He’d grown up without love from two parents, any siblings, or a happy family unit. His mom was in and out of rehab and he never knew his father. He’d come to terms with all that, but I could tell the idea of me rejecting him scared him. And this was a guy who wasn’t easily phased in any other area of his life. The knotted tension in his shoulders, the intensity in his eyes when he’d asked me to move . . . waiting to see what I’d do, how I’d react. If I’d accept him. Him and all this baggage. And there was a damn truckload of baggage where that man was concerned. It was daunting at times. But still so easy to love him at others.
After cooking dinner with Ellie and making sure she was settled for the night, I was chauffeured back to Ben’s place.
His lips at my throat greeted me. “Thanks for coming.” I felt him inhale the scent of my neck and a shiver raced down my spine, igniting all my senses.
I nodded and lifted on my toes to press a kiss to his full mouth.
He had the lighting turned low, and the city lights that glittered through the large picture windows provided a pretty ambience. A bottle of red wine rested on the coffee table with two wineglasses and a fire crackled in the fireplace. Wow. It was very romantic and the perfect end to my day.
“Would you like some wine?”
I nodded and let his fingers dancing at my lower back guide me into the living room. We settled on the sofa and Ben offered me a glass of ruby-colored wine. Hazel and luminous green eyes roamed mine while I took a sip. Delicious. Flavors of spicy pepper and robust black cherry burst on my palate. It was pleasantly tart with just a hint of sweetness. Yum.
“Good?” he asked, trying his own.
“Orgasmic.” I smiled.
Ben chuckled. “Not yet, lovely, but that could be arranged.”
The promise of his skilled hands and glorious mouth on my skin later sent a rush of endorphins through my system.
Now that we were back in New York I felt hopeful that Ben and I could work out the differences in what we each saw for our futures. And hearing his comment about making it official put a kernel of hope in my heart that wasn’t there before. Of course I didn’t want to bring that up straightaway. We’d had too many heavy conversations lately, and an evening relaxing alone together was not something I wanted to spoil.
Ben lifted my feet onto his lap and pulled the throw blanket from a trunk beside the couch to cover us both. He removed my socks, dropping them beside the couch, and began massaging my feet. His thumbs rubbed along the length of my instep and I relaxed into his soothing touch, believing everything would be okay.
The feeling was short-lived, though, because moments later his phone began ringing from inside the kitchen. The first two times he ignored it, but the third time he lifted my feet from his lap and stood.
He cursed loudly, retreating down the hall with his phone in hand.
I heard his bedroom door close softly and the hushed sounds of his voice.
Tossing aside the blanket, I padded down the hallway to investigate. My scalp tingled and the hair on my nape rose. He was acting strange, secretive, and all my senses were heightened. I felt like an intruder watching my life unfold. I felt oddly disconnected standing there, heart pounding in my chest, fists clenched tightly at my sides, trying to eavesdrop. I fought to quiet my labored breathing so I could hear.
“One second. I need to check with Emmy,” I heard him say from behind the closed door. The sound of my name snapped me back into the present.
“How bad is it?” he asked.
I wondered if it was related to his mother and her struggles to stay sober, and my heart ached for him.
“Because I do, Fiona. I won’t cut Emmy out of this.”
My stomach leapt into my throat. He’d gone behind closed doors to take Fiona’s call privately.
The door opened and Ben stood there, clutching his cell phone in his hand. “Which hospital?” he barked into the phone, then he nodded once and ended the call.
What in the hell was going on? “Is everything okay?”
“No.” His voice was flat.
“Was that Fiona?”
“Yes.”
I waited, barely breathing, for him to explain what was happening. The vein in his neck was throbbing. He was angry, but about what, I had no idea. “Ben?” I dared at last.
“Fiona’s been admitted to the hospital for exhaustion, and dehydration. She’s gone into early labor and the doctors are trying to stop it.”
She was only about six months along. Way too early for the baby to come.
“Fuck.” Angry hands tore through his hair. “I have to go.”
I shot him a glare that questioned his sanity. “You’re going? Now?”
“This could be my baby. I have to be there, Emerson.”
An acidic taste rose up my throat. His baby? I hated the sound of that. Almost as much as I hated the sound of my full name falling from his mouth with such venom. I thought, if anything, he merely regarded himself as a sperm donor. The worry in his eyes and his haunted look told me he wasn’t so sure. My heart throbbed painfully at this new realization. If the baby was his, would be want to be involved in its life? In Fiona’s life? Could I handle him being linked to her for the rest of our lives? Would we spend birthdays and holidays together?
Gulping lungfuls of fresh air, I fought off the impending panic attack threatening to take me under. I couldn’t handle a life like that. It might be selfish but I wanted Ben to myself. His profession dictated I was required to share parts of him I’d much rather not. I wouldn’t share his time, too. I wouldn’t split him with an evil witch like her. And I wouldn’t watch him walk out the door to be by her side tonight.
“I’ll go,” I rasped, fighting to get my thumping heart to slow down.
He cocked his head to the side, one dark eyebrow rising. “Are you sure?”
I straightened my spine. “Yes. Absolutely.” Better me than him. I could have a talk with her, woman to woman. Tell her to back the fuck off Ben. Roughing her up was out of the question in her fragile state, but I wasn’t above telling her off.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Are you sure you want to be alone with her? I could come along,” he offered.
I shook my head. “I’m positive. I need to do this.” I didn’t want him anywhere near her. I needed to do this for me—to stand up for myself and for Ben. It was long overdue.
He didn’t argue, and without further hesitation, I stuffed my feet back into my socks and shoes and shrugged into my coat.
“She’s at Northwest Memorial,” he said, staring down at his feet before meeting my eyes again with a pained expression. “Emmy . . .”
“Don’t speak,” I warned, pushing my palm between us.
He nodded. “One thing,” he whispered.
I expected an I love you. Perhaps a Be safe, or a Thank you for going.
“Will you call me with any updates?” he asked.
I nodded and left. With no kiss good-bye, and no loving words exchanged between us, I fled into the night.
• • •
When I arrived at the hospital and asked for Fiona Stone, I was directed to the maternity wing on the fifth floor. Walking by the babies in the nursery window made everything more real. The soft coos, the happy new parents, and sleep-weary nurses bustling past me were a wake-up call. This baby was coming. Whether Ben and I were ready or not, Fiona was going to be a mom.
I found her room, the door left partially opened, so I took a deep breath and entered. Fiona was sitting on the bed in a turquoise-and-cream silk robe, slipper-covered feet folded underneath her, sipping a Pellegrino and flipping through Vogue magazine.
What the hell?
She didn’t look ill. In fact she looked phenomenal. She had a healthy glow to her skin and red lacquered nails, and her hair and makeup were styled perfectly.
“Fiona?” My voice cracked.
Her eyes lifted to mine and her mouth puckered in a frown. “Where’s Ben?”
“He’s not coming.” I wanted to feel excited, proud of that fact, but watching her face fall, I only felt empty. This woman was in love with my boyfriend and there would be no happy ending.
“Why not?” her confident voice shook ever so slightly.
“I told him I’d check on you myself, and he stayed home.” I didn’t mention that he’d asked me to call him with news.
She swallowed, as if summoning her courage. “I get it. You’re threatened. You made him stay behind and came yourself so he wouldn’t have to.”
I peered down at the shiny tile floor. She wasn’t far off from the truth. I didn’t want to feel threatened by her, yet I did.
“He sent me, Fiona. He didn’t want to come.”
She took a fortifying breath and met my eyes. “You’re nothing like the girls he has dated in the past. You know that, yes? I never thought I’d measure up to the models he attracted. London Burke . . . and many others. They were younger, thinner, prettier.” She looked down, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on the blanket beside her. “But then you came along. I don’t usually hire female assistants but I knew you’d pose no threat. From your dirty tennis shoes”—her eyes dropped to my feet—“to your ratty ponytail . . .” She clucked her tongue, her eyes pinning me in place.
She was doing her best to cut me open, but my tough outer shell remained intact. There was one key thing she didn’t understand about Ben that I did. It wasn’t what was on the outside that attracted him to me rather than her. She was a vindictive, manipulative witch. I was wholesome and loved him just for him. He got that. She clearly didn’t. And I wouldn’t be explaining that to her; I just stood my ground, keeping my face even and composed, doing my best to look bored by this whole exchange. She wasn’t a threat. The baby might come between us eventually, but I was confident Fiona never would.
“Don’t you worry about what will happen when we learn this baby is his?” Her hand went to her swollen bump, stroking it lovingly.
I didn’t answer—couldn’t. All the air was sucked from my lungs. I worried about that every waking moment. I had dreams of beautiful little babies that were a perfect mix of Fiona’s dark, shiny hair and Ben’s brilliant hazel eyes.
“I could get him back, you know. He’s been with me for five years. He hardly dated. We traveled the world together. Dined at five-star restaurants, made love in the finest hotels; I built him up to where he is today. Ben isn’t the type to forget that. He’s extremely loyal.”
I forced air to return to my lungs and found my voice. “There’s a good chance this baby isn’t his. Do you really think he’ll still be at your beck and call then?”
“That’s what your poor, simple mind doesn’t understand. I’m friends with his mother. I’m practically part of the family. I’ll always be around.”
At the mention of his mother and their ongoing relationship, something in me snapped. I was done being nice. I’d claw her eyes out if necessary and not think twice. “And if I called his mother and told her you seduced her son, took his virginity, how do you think she’d react?”
Fiona laughed maniacally. “I seduced him? If that’s what he told you, he lied.” A smug smile blossomed on her mouth. “Far from it, sweetheart. He wanted me. And trust me, I was all too happy to oblige. You two have been together, what eight months, nine?”
I nodded. She was keeping track.
“He and I have a history that spans five years. When you’ve made it that long, then you can talk to me about how well you know Ben. In the meantime, buzz off.” She flicked her wrist in my direction.
“Why do you think I’m here tonight and he’s not? He’s not interested in you, Fiona,” I enunciated each word slowly, letting them sink in. “Your attempts at winning him back . . .” I shook my head. “It’s getting awkward. He’s never been interested in more with you. You were convenient. A warm body while he was on the road. I’m the person he wants to build a life with.”
Her smooth exterior began to crack ever so slightly. Her jaw twitched and tightened. “No. You think that, but I know him. He doesn’t want to be tied down. Not with some nobody.”
“Fiona, Ben’s asked me to move in with him.” My tone was direct, harsh, but it had to be to get through to her.
Her bottom lip trembled, the only indication that I’d finally succeeded.
“I’m not the enemy here,” I continued, my tone softer this time. “You need to let him go. Even if the baby is his . . . he’ll never be yours.”
Striding from the room on shaky legs, I rounded the corner and stabbed the button for the elevator.