Chapter Twenty-Seven:
Emerson
It’s been two weeks since I snuck over to Braxton’s in the middle of the night, and since I ran out crying. I heard from Breigh that Braxton and Cade are being civil and speaking again. I’m not surprised given the fact that band practices have started back up again.
Everything has mostly returned to normal between Cade and me. It’s hard to avoid your own twin when you live together and looking in the mirror only reminds you of them. We haven’t spoken about what happened on tour, but I know it hasn’t been forgotten.
About a week and a half after I returned home, I got a call to interview for a pretty high-end restaurant, Greystreet, in a neighboring town. The restaurant has been featured on the Food Channel and has more five-star reviews than I can count. At the interview, the owner mentioned how much she liked me, but she said in order to fit in I would have to dress a little more provocatively. The uniform for the servers is a too-short, too-tight black dress. Luckily for me, they hired me for the bartender position, so I don’t have to wear a dress. The only issue was just how much skin I needed to show to fit in. Breigh loved every second of dragging me around town for new wardrobe options and watching me get pampered.
At the end of it all, I barely recognized myself. My normally long hair is now just above my shoulders and layered. Instead of overalls or sweats, I’m sporting tight jeans and even tighter blouses. I don’t complain about it because of the insane amount of tips I cash out with every night I work. If I don’t leave with at least one hundred dollars, then I know I’m doing something wrong.
I’ve worked in a couple of restaurants before, but not as a bartender and never one that has such high foot traffic on a regular basis. Since I started, they’ve been working me part-time. It’s good to get out of my house and head for a bit.
I work alongside two other bartenders, Demi and Justin. They are a hoot. I’m still getting the hang of things, but they help wherever they can, picking up my slack.
It’s Saturday night, and Greystreet is packed. We have one hundred and forty-five reservations on the books, not even counting the walk-ins. Everyone has their game face on. There was a Bengals game today and groups of people have been flowing in ever since.
“How ya doing over there?” Demi shouts at me over the loud commotion of the restaurant.
“Doing good,” I reply as I shake up the martini I am making before pouring it into a glass.
“Let me know if you need any help!” she offers, bobbing her dark head my way.
“Busy night?” a male voice asks from across the bar. I look up just as I slide the martini to the customer who ordered it.
“That’ll be thirteen dollars,” I say to the freckled brunette. She pays with cash, tipping me two dollars, and then I turn my attention to the handsome blast from the past across from me.
“What can I get ya?” I ask, skipping any pleasantries. We are so busy, it’s best to stay focused. I’ve learned over the past few shifts that with my new ‘look’ I’m getting a little more attention than I’m used to.
His eyebrows raise, he cocks his head to the side, and then swallows his pride. “So that’s all you have to say to me after all this time?”
My heartbeat is steadily increasing, and my palms are sweaty. There hasn’t been a second that went by since he stepped into this place that I didn’t recognize his perfectly styled dark hair, forest green eyes, or his stocky football frame. Not much has changed in the last two years. His presence still takes my breath away.
I’m terrified to look him in the eyes. It’s what I’ve wanted since the last time I saw him, and yet I never thought this moment would come. “What can I get you, Evan?” I ask, attempting to keep my cool.
“You know me, you tell me,” he replies coolly.
I sigh, shaking my head. “I don’t know – seven and seven?”
“Bingo!” He points at me, flashing me his award-winning smile. His teeth are perfect and far whiter than my own.
I nod. The last time I saw him ended in a screaming match and me slamming the door when I left. I’ve wanted a redo ever since that moment. Turning around, I begin making his favorite drink, trying to ignore his eyes burning into my back.
Once I’ve added the 7Up and stirred it, I hand him the drink. “$Eight-fifty.”
He smirks, pulling out his wallet. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
I brush off his comment, grabbing his ten dollar bill and handing him the change. “It’s good to see you,” I say simply, hoping that it will be enough to pacify him.
His eyes don’t leave me for a second, and I can tell I am not going to get away that easy. “What time are you off tonight?” he asks.
I shrug, the storm brewing in my stomach something fierce.
“Oh, come on. I thought it was time we talked,” he says softly, leaning in. I can smell his cologne, Artisan by John Varvatos, and it takes me back.
I feel bad giving him the brush off, but there is a line of people waiting behind him, and I remember the last time we went down this road it didn’t end well. Obviously, I want nothing more than to talk and get the closure I need, but I am not going to make it easy for him.
“Two, she gets off at two,” I hear Demi shout from the other end of the bar.
My eyes shift to her in a glare. She shrugs, throwing her hands in the air. “We have other customers.”
Evan laughs, his green eyes twinkling. “Well, I’ll be back around then. Hopefully, you won’t kick me out,” he jokes before turning around with his drink.
My heart is still in overdrive as the next person in line begins rambling off their drink order to me. Holy shit. Evan Driscoll just walked into my bar, looking handsome as ever. I never thought this day would come. Focus, Emerson. Focus. I feel giddy like I did when he first asked me out; when he first kissed me. Why is it that he can still make me feel weak in the knees even after all this time?
***
I’m a bundle of nerves toward the end of my shift. I know Evan is going to be returning and it’s sent my heart back into overdrive. Only this time I’m mentally prepared. I know he is going to walk back here at any moment and I want to have things under control.
When I’ve served the final drink and cleaned up behind the bar, I head to the small employee area where the lockers are and grab my wallet. Evan hasn’t shown up yet, so I’m curious if I’ve been stood up.
Hurriedly, I walk to the front of the restaurant. The lights are off, and the hostesses and servers are gone. Pushing open the glass door, I can hear the thumping of my heart loudly in my ears.
Evan is leaning against an H3 Hummer which is orange, his favorite color. I’ve always felt like orange is an obnoxious color, but to each his own. “How did the rest of your night go?” he asks.
“It’s not over yet, why don’t you ask me that again later?” I suggest and then open the passenger door, climbing in.
He cocks his head to the side and smirks back at me, climbing into the driver side. “Besides this new makeover you have going on, you’re still the same Emerson, aren’t you?”
I punch him in the arm playfully. It feels like we are falling right back into our old ways and habits. It feels comfortable.
“So how is Cade?” he asks, shifting his eyes back to me and then pulling out of the parking lot.
“Seriously? We’ve gone all of one whole minute, and you’re already obsessing over him,” I say throwing my hands up in the air in frustration.
Evan chuckles, and it reminds me of how charming he can be. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him so easily. “Fine, what do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know,” I retort sarcastically. “Maybe, what the heck we’ve been up to the past couple of years?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he replies in a mocking tone. “Since the last time I saw you, I moved to Portland and work as a bank manager.”
I can’t help the surprised look that flashes across my face. “Wow, how is your mom handling that?”
He stares back at me with a silent adoration like he used to whenever I would ask about something or someone he loved. Staring back at the road, he makes a quick turn into an empty parking lot and then parks. “She hates it, but she visits more than I should allow.”
I nod. “Why did you stop?” I ask, glancing around at the bright lamps littering the empty parking lot.
Evan shrugs, his hands on the wheel slowly gripping and releasing it. “I really missed you, Em,” he says using my nickname. My name dripping off his lips sends my heart into a tailspin.
“It’s been a long time…” I trail off.
“Yeah, why is that?” he questions.
I swallow, attempting to get my bearings. “I think we both know why.”
He places his fingers gently beneath my chin, raising it toward him. “I’m sorry,” he says simply.
“Don’t be.” I brush him off, tilting my face away.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t fight harder for you when it came to Cade. I’m sorry that I got so caught up in my rage toward him that I stopped putting you first.”
Thump. Thump. Thump.
“I don’t know why you are apologizing. If I remember correctly, I let Cade come between us. I should have stood up to him. The day I walked out was one of the worst days I’ve ever had,” I reply.
“Why did we wait so long to talk about this?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I don’t know; fear makes people do a lot of crazy stuff.”
He grins back at me and then leans in. He doesn’t ask permission, yet takes what he wants. His kiss is aggressive and passionate, exciting and familiar. When he finally pulls away a few moments later, we are both giddy about the surprising turn of events.
“So, what are you doing in Camden?” Portland is only about an hour and a half away, but it’s not unusual once people move to the big city to forget about us in this small town. My cousins moved to Portland, and while it’s not that far away, I only see them a couple of times a year.
Evan’s face falls. “My Grandpa passed away. His funeral was today.”
“Oh my gosh, I am so sorry,” I reply. It’s difficult to know the right way to respond when it comes to death. You want to be respectful but not obnoxious.
He shrugs sadly. “It was his time.”
“But that doesn’t make it any easier.” I rub his shoulder soothingly. “Do you want to talk about anything?”
He stares back at me, looking deep into my eyes. “Do you think we can just sit here for a couple of moments and enjoy each other’s company?”
I nod, and a pang goes through my chest. I know all too well about death and grief. I don’t have to imagine what he is going through; I went through it twice at the same time for the two people I loved more than anything. It gave me tougher skin. It molded me into who I am today.
He lays his head gently on my shoulder, and we stay there, in silence, admiring the stars glittering the sky.