Blitzing Emily (38 page)

“He still loves you,” she argued.

“It’s not an option. It’s not enough.” Emily got to her feet. She knew she was in the wrong, but admitting it to another person was a completely different story.

“You’re leaving?”

Grabbing her handbag, her car keys, and the cup of coffee, Emily hurried out of Starbucks. She didn’t want to talk about Brandon right then, especially since any thought on what an idiot she’d been brought inappropriate-in-public emotions.

The rain picked up just in time for her to get drenched while she walked to her car.

Amy emerged from the coffee shop and headed toward Emily’s Escape. She tapped on the driver’s side window. “What if you’re making the worst mistake of your life, Em?”

It would come as a real news flash to her sister, but Emily already knew that. She hit the button to lower the car window.

“Everything’s going great with my career. That’s what I care about. Everything’s fine.”

“I suppose that career keeps you warm when you wake up alone at three
AM
, right?”

Emily must have looked shocked, because Amy smirked.

“We’re not discussing this,” she sputtered.

“Brandon still loves you, and I know you love him.”

“I have to go. I’m going to be late.”

“Give me a hug,” Amy said. Emily reached through the car window to fling her arms around her sister. Amy drove her crazy, but there wasn’t a minute of Emily’s life she could imagine without her. Emily backed out of the parking space, waving to her once more.

“Think about it,” she mouthed.

It became the “think of anything but a pink elephant” game. The harder Emily tried to distract herself with other things, the more she attempted to think about anything other than Brandon, the more he was all she could think about.

The voice teacher was pissed she wasn’t paying attention. Emily apologized to her, resolved to work harder, and escaped to her car as quickly as possible when the lesson was over. Luckily she managed to pull it together for the rehearsal that afternoon.

Amy was right. Even more than Emily’s list of appointments and things to do, she needed to gather her courage and call Brandon. There was nobody else she dreamed of and longed for.

She arrived home, threw her stuff onto the table in the hallway, and picked up the cordless. It was only a phone call. Emily had made many in her lifetime. There wouldn’t be another as important as this, though.

Cold sweat trickled down her back. Her hands shook. Her heart pounded. Stage fright was nothing compared to this. She missed him, she wanted him back, and she had to find the words to persuade him. She made a horrible mistake, and she needed to beg his forgiveness. If there was ever a time in her life when she needed to admit that she really,
really
screwed up, this was it. She scrolled through the caller ID and hit his number.

The phone rang four times. She waited to leave a message. She heard Brandon’s voice instead. “Emily?”

The rush of emotion stunned her. She swallowed hard. “It’s me. How are you?”

“Fine. How are you doing?”

Where was the smile in his voice she loved so much? A knot formed in the pit of her stomach, right on top of the butterflies that were already there. She took a breath.

“I’m fine. I was wondering if we could get together for a cup of coffee.”

He was silent for so long she thought the phone had disconnected. “Brandon?” she said.

“I’m still here. Sugar, that’s not a good idea.” His voice was empty, defeated. The air instantly sucked out of her lungs.

“Why not?” she forced out.

“I’m pretty busy. Maybe another time.” She heard him let out a breath. “I’ve got to go. Thanks for calling—”

“Please,” was all she said.

More silence ensued. She waited.

“Why do you want to see me?” he asked quietly.

“I made a mistake,” she choked out. “I want to apologize.”

“You want to apologize.”

“Yes.” She bit her lip hard. She couldn’t bear his silence. Finally, the floodgates opened. “I was wrong. I should have listened to you about Anastasia and the baby. I didn’t. I thought you cheated, and I couldn’t stand the thought that you slept with someone else when you were with me. I miss you. I wonder if there’s any chance we could—”

It was his turn to interrupt her.

“Are you sorry because you didn’t trust me, or are you sorry because you had to admit that you were wrong?” His voice was raw. She couldn’t breathe. His words were like a folding chair to the gut: The pain was instant and overwhelming. “Sugar, I told you that I’d never give up on us, and I don’t think I ever could, but you gave up on me a long time ago. I can’t be with someone who doesn’t take me at my word and doesn’t trust me. Even more, I want someone who loves me the way I love her, and you don’t.”

Now it was Emily’s turn to be silent. More than her own pain, she felt his. She heard the strain in his voice. He thought she didn’t love him? She loved him like her next breath.

She leaned against the kitchen counter for support.

“You still there?” Maybe it was her imagination, but his voice was a little warmer.

“Yes. I’m still here.”

“Are you cryin’?”

“Of course I’m not.” She swiped at the tears with her free hand. She took the deepest breath she could with the weight of grief and regret that crushed her. “I fell in love with you. I’m in love with you.”

“That’s nice, sugar, but you’re going to have to do better than that.”

This was not a great time for her fiery redhead’s temper to ignite. Of course, it happened anyway.

“But I apologized. I’m sorry. I was wrong. I said I love you! What else can I say?” she cried out. “Don’t you believe me?”

“I’m big on action, not words. If you love me, I need to see it. I need to feel it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I want the sweet, funny Emily I met while she was flat on her back in a parking lot. I want the woman I made every excuse I could think of to stay with. The minute I looked into her eyes for the first time, I knew I could never let her walk out of my life. I want the only woman I’ve ever said ‘I love you’ to and meant it.” He took a breath. “I need someone who can put her pride aside and tell me she loves me before her back’s against the wall. I need someone who will stand with me, no matter what. Someone who trusts me and wants me, no matter what. The day I see that, I’ll know you love me. When you’re ready to show me, I’ll meet you anywhere, anytime.” His final words were barely above a whisper. He waited a few seconds for her to answer and quietly added, “It’s up to you.”

She heard a click on the other end of the phone, and the sudden silence that followed a call ending. He wasn’t waiting any longer for her response.

C
HRISTMAS CAME
. A
MY
was dating a guy she met at the shop named Brian. David was brokenhearted over this development, but he managed to recover quickly after he met a beautiful young diva from Chicago Lyric Opera who asked him out. Listening to Amy and Brian spar was exhausting, but Emily had to smile at what seemed to be his blossoming love for her sister. Wait till Amy figured it out. She was so happy, and the twinges of jealousy Emily felt over their sweet romance were quickly swallowed up in the joy she felt for them. Her parents were still spending every available minute together. Emily wondered if her father was contemplating popping the question, or if he would.

“Honey, give him a chance,” her mother said for the thousandth time since Emily finally confessed to calling Brandon. “He’s hurt. You’re hurt. It’s just going to take some time.”

The Hamilton women met in Meg’s kitchen for a time-honored family tradition: Turkey and cranberry sandwiches late on Christmas night. Margaret passed the cranberry sauce out of the refrigerator to Emily.

“It’s not going to happen,” Emily told her mother, and turned away so Meg couldn’t see her quivering chin. She never used to cry, and now it seemed like she’d never stop. Amy caught her sister red-handed.

“Buck up,” Amy said to Emily in a low voice. “You can do this.”

“I don’t need him. I—I’ll be fine,” Emily insisted. “My career is going really well, and I—”

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do.” Amy pulled Emily in for a side hug. “You’re going to put one foot in front of the other, and you’re going to keep trying until he accepts your apology.”

Emily knew she was just trying to help. Brandon wasn’t relenting. She also knew there would be nobody else but Brandon for her. Ever.

Chapter Twenty-Four

A
T EIGHT-FIFTEEN
AM
on New Year’s Day, Emily was already late for a meeting with her agent, David. She attempted to breeze through the front doors of Seattle’s Grand Hyatt hotel. The non-fat latte clutched in one hand had other ideas. The lid popped off her coffee cup as she pried the door open, splashing foam and coffee over one leg of her pale-oyster colored wool trousers.

In the good old days of opera, something like this would call for a full-on diva meltdown. She allowed herself one angry “damn it,” and surveyed the damage with a sinking heart: A gigantic stain. The detergent pen in her handbag wouldn’t fix it. She hated looking like a mess. If she wasn’t nervous enough about this meeting already, walking in looking like she’d spent the night camping underneath the Alaskan Way Viaduct wasn’t helpful, either. She’d like a do-over.

If the rest of the year turned out like the first eight hours of it, she was
not
going to be happy.

The concierge flew across the lobby with a handful of tissues. “Let me help.” She wiped at Emily’s dripping hand. “I’m not sure what we can do about your pants.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options there. I was due at a meeting fifteen minutes ago in your restaurant.” Emily reached out for the tissues, dabbed unsuccessfully at the coffee stain, and handed them back to the concierge. “If you could point me in the right direction, I’d appreciate it.”

“Follow me,” the concierge said.

David was the only customer in the restaurant. He got to his feet as Emily approached, looking impeccable as usual, and holding out his arms for a hug. She resisted the impulse to spill what was left in the cup on him. He wore dark dress slacks, a maroon lightweight knit sweater, and an air of invincibility. It would be nice if he had the decency to look somewhat disheveled on a holiday known primarily for football games and hangovers.

“What happened there?” he said, indicating the stain on Emily’s outfit.

“I had a dispute with a door, and the door won. How are you, David? Happy New Year.” She handed the offending paper cup to a server as she sat down at the table. “May I please have another non-fat latte? If there’s any of the non-spill type left, I’ll take one of those. Thank you so much.” She gave him a dazzling smile. He grinned at her in response.

“Right away, miss.” He indicated the two menus lying on the table. “I’ll be back to take your breakfast order.”

David sipped his coffee and reached out to pat Emily’s hand across the table. “I’m fine. Late night?”

“Hardly.” Emily’s New Year’s Eve date had been a handsome, funny, charming, and very successful local businessman she’d met after a recent performance. She did her best to join in the fun at the high-profile party on the top deck of the Space Needle, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon, or how badly she’d wanted him to be the man she kissed at midnight. She’d pleaded a terrible headache. The pain was actually eighteen inches lower. She was home in bed alone by 12:30. “Did you go out for the evening?” she said.

“I watched the fireworks, and I had some champagne. My girlfriend is in Chicago for the holidays.” David picked up his menu. “I have some news.”

She told herself to take deep breaths. Her career was booming. Her schedule was nearly booked for the next three years. He wouldn’t fly to Seattle to tell her about a cancellation. She draped a napkin over her stained pants and took a sip of water.

“I was wondering why you asked me for a meeting on a national holiday.”

David reached out, took the water glass from her hand, and put it back down on the table.

“The Met called me late yesterday afternoon. They’re presenting
La Boheme
early next month. The woman scheduled to sing Musette is struggling with some health issues. They need a cover who’s highly experienced with the role and can step in to sing it at a moment’s notice. Are you interested?”

She opened her mouth, shut it again, and opened it. She looked at him in shock. Heat rolled over her body like a wave. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. It was understandable. She’d worked for years to hear those words. It couldn’t be possible that attaining her biggest goal would be this easy.

A latte with a heart drawn into the foam was set down in front of her. She knew the server was talking to her, but she couldn’t respond. She heard David say, “Give us a minute.” David reached across the table and passed his hand in front of her face as his lips curved into a smile. “Emily. Talk to me.”

“Please tell me you told them yes.”

“Of course I did. Let’s have a toast.” He picked up his coffee cup. “Cheers. Happy New Year.”

T
HE INITIAL EXCITEMENT
Emily felt at the achievement of her biggest goal was swallowed up in the numbness that was her constant companion without Brandon. She wondered if he thought about her at all, if he missed her, too. Two weeks after her meeting with David, Emily found herself driving to Amy’s shop at lunchtime on a dreary January day, a take-out bag next to her on the car seat. Maybe a heart-to-heart with her sister might banish the blues.

Amy greeted her with a hug. “What’s in the bag?”

“Lunch,” Emily said. “I hope you still like turkey and Swiss on whole wheat.”

“Yeah. It’s good to see you.” Amy peered into her sister’s face. “Something’s wrong.”

Emily dropped the bag on the chest-high table in Amy’s work area and pulled up a stool. “Hopefully you have sodas. I forgot them.”

Amy was tapping away at the screen of her smart phone. “Pop. I’ll get some,” she said distractedly.