Will

 

At breakfast, Sharon begged Will for what felt like the millionth time to let her order one of those plastic pre-decorated Christmas trees for the house.

“We’re Taylors. We do not put imposter Christmas trees in this house,” Will said imitating his father’s booming voice.

“William, can you please be serious?”

“I am serious, Sharon. This is probably my last Christmas at home. And I’m not going to be the first Taylor in history to break our holiday tradition.”

“I’m not suggesting you break tradition, hun. If your parents get home in time you can still go chop down your perfect Christmas tree and drag it back here.”

Will waved her off. “Then we’d have two trees.”

“So, what’s wrong with that? Lord knows this house is big enough for a dozen trees.”

“We don’t need two trees. One perfect tree from Emmerich Tree Farm is just fine.”

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed,” Sharon argued, topping off Will’s coffee.

“I won’t. They’ll be here, Sharon. I know my parents have been MIA lately, but they wouldn’t miss Christmas.”

Sharon shook her head at his stubbornness and muttered something under her breath. “I’m going to the market today. Any special requests?”

“No thanks. And I won’t be home for dinner tonight, so don’t worry about making me anything.”

“And where will you be going?” Sharon asked, in a more motherly tone than Will’s actual mother ever managed.

“Cranston’s.”

“Parker Cranston?”

Will nodded.

Sharon clucked her tongue with disapproval. “That boy is trouble. Don’t let him drag you into any.”

“Yes, Mom,” Will mocked, giving Sharon a quick peck on the cheek as he grabbed an apple and retreated from the kitchen before she could continue her rant.

It’s not that Sharon didn’t have a point. Parker Cranston’s reputation as Manhattan’s millionaire party boy wasn’t without merit. But he and Will had been friends since their overpriced preschool days.

It was true that Cranston had gotten Will into his fair share of trouble over the years, but he always got him out. That was one of the many benefits of being Cranston’s friend. Another was his lavish parties. And Will was sure tonight would be no exception.

Will shrugged on a coat and shined the crisp green apple on his blue sweater as he walked down the hallway toward the elevator. He knew the party wouldn’t be starting for hours, but he figured he’d head over to Cranston’s anyway. There was always a group of his buddies hanging around the hotel suite pre-gaming and playing video games. Neither were really Will’s preferred hobbies, but it beat sitting around his house alone all day.

He’d just taken a big bite out of his apple when Emma emerged into the hallway like an apparition. She was dressed in winter white from head to toe and her blonde hair cascaded down her back. She looked so beautiful Will stopped short. He must’ve forgotten how to chew too because he started to choke on his bite of apple.

Emma turned, seeming startled to find Will staring at her. When her surprise passed, it was replaced with an angry glare.

“Stalk much?” she muttered.

“I’m not stalking you.”

“Oh really? What do they call hiding out in the hallway these days?”

“I’m not hiding.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

“Good morning to you, too,” Will snapped.

“Is it a good morning, Will?”

“It was.”

“Well good for you,” Emma snarled, making her way to the elevator without waiting for Will.

He tried to shake off her rudeness. Emma had never been a morning person, but this was ridiculous. Just get her to the party, he reminded himself.

“So,” Will began, hoping to start over. “What are you up to today?”

“None of your business.”

“Shit, Emma. Are you ever gonna tell me what I did to piss you off? Or are you just gonna hold it against me forever?”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes!”

The elevator dinged and the doors yawned wide, stretching out the tension between them. Emma was the first to move. She blew out a breath of frustration and marched onto the elevator.

Will followed closely behind her. “Well? Do I get an explanation?”

Emma huffed. “Why don’t you ask Liz?”

“Because I’m asking you.”

Emma crossed her arms stubbornly. It was Will’s turn to sigh. Emma had a stubborn stream as long as the Hudson River. If she didn’t want to tell him why she was pissed he knew he should just drop it. Even if everything inside him was screaming not to.

Will decided to change tactics. If he could make Emma laugh maybe it would help break the iceberg forming between them. He glanced up at the mistletoe that seemed to be mocking him. He nudged Emma lightly with his elbow and nodded to the presumptuous plant. “We keep finding ourselves here.”

“So?”

“Maybe it’s a sign.”

“If you think I’m going to kiss you, you’re an even bigger idiot than I gave you credit for.”

“I’d settle for an awkward high-five,” Will suggested, raising one hand in the air.

Emma left him hanging. The elevator doors dinged open again, and before Will could say anything else, a little old lady decked out in a fur coat that matched her tiny dog got on. They all rode the elevator in silence to the lobby. Will practically had to chase Emma down once she exited the lift. He caught up to her on the street where she was hailing a cab.

“So I’ll see you tonight?” Will asked trying to mask the hope in his voice.

“Tonight?”

“Cranston’s party.”

“I’m not going to that.”

“I thought we were going together?”

Emma laughed, but there was no joy in it. “I’m not going to that party with you. I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Will’s patience finally snapped. “Why?” he shouted.

He was done playing this game. It had gone on long enough and it was getting him nowhere. If Emma was ready to throw him away he was damn sure not going down without a fight. “What the hell did I do, Emma?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Will raked his hands through his damp hair in frustration. “Obviously it does.”

“Maybe it did, but not anymore.”

A cab pulled up and Emma started to pull the door open, but Will slammed it shut. “Emma, can you just talk to me?”

“About what?”

“How about why you’re so eager to throw us away?”

“There is no us, Will.”

“Really? Ten years of friendship means nothing to you? We were best friends, Emma. And you just left like it was nothing.”

Tears were pooling in Emma’s green eyes and Will reached up to brush them away but she pushed him back.

“Don’t,” she snapped.

“Just tell me why, Emma.”

“Get it through your head, Will. I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then what do you want?”

“I want this stupid holiday to be over so I can go back to forgetting about you.” She yanked open the cab door. “And if you really want to know why it’s so easy for me to walk away, why don’t you ask Liz?” Then Emma got in the cab, slammed the door and was gone.

Will watched the yellow cab until it disappeared into the busy Manhattan traffic. He felt like his heart had been slammed in the cab door and run over by every car that sped past. He gulped down cold breaths of air trying to regain his composure. He was grateful he hadn’t eaten a big breakfast, because his stomach was tying itself in knots. Will wasn’t used to fighting with people, especially not his friends. And having pissed off a friend for an unknown reason was it’s own particular brand of torture. But Will planned on ending this feud tonight. If Liz knew why Emma was so determined to think the worst of him then he was damn sure going to confront her about it at Cranston’s party.