Emily's Choice (4 page)

Emily’s face
turned beet red. The urge to punch Lila was back but so was the urge to cry.
She’d never had anyone speak to her that way before, and she had no idea what
to do with it. She turned to her stepsister. “Hope,” she pleaded, though unsure
what she was begging for.

“Go,” Hope
nodded toward their bedroom.

Emily turned
and ran to their bedroom, closing the door behind her. It took every ounce of
her willpower to keep from slamming the door. She didn’t need Mama G back up
here interfering and wondering what she’d done to provoke Lila now. How could
she and Dad be so oblivious to Lila’s behavior?

She could
hear Hope talking to Lila and knew they were on their way to the bedroom
because their voices were getting louder. Emily stood by the door and opened it
a crack so she could better hear what Hope was saying to her nasty cousin.

“What is
your problem, Lila?” Hope asked angrily. 

“My problem?”
she asked incredulously. “She’s been rude and mean to me since I got here. She’s
always flaunting her friends and her boyfriend.”

“She doesn’t,
Lila! She was so excited to have you here. She was excited to meet you, and she
only wants to share her life with you. To make you feel welcome. And you’ve
done nothing but make her feel like a country bumpkin by making fun of her and
blowing her off all the time.”

“God, listen
to you!” Lila sneered. “You stick up for her without batting an eye. It’s like
a reflex. Someone picks on poor perfect Emily and you’re right there to take up
the charge.” Lila jabbed a finger in Hope’s shoulder. “She likes to show off
and brag about herself. But she’s about to find out just how imperfect her life
really is!”

Lila shoved
past Hope and pushed the door to their bedroom open.

“What are
you talking about, Lila?” Hope asked, charging after her and almost colliding
with Lila who was stopped just inside the door, face-to-face with Emily.

“Eavesdropping,
perfect Emily?” Lila asked, a nasty grin on her face. “That hardly seems like a
good idea. You’re likely to hear something you don’t like. Then again,” Lila
said, pulling a piece of fuzz off her shirt, “you probably don’t know any
better.”

“Lila,” Hope
warned. 

“Back off,
cousin,” Lila said, waving her hand at Hope. “She doesn’t need you coming to
her rescue.”

“Say what
you want to say, Lila, and then get out of my room,” Emily snarled. Was this
what Mama G meant when she said to come to her with trouble? 

“Did you
keep tabs on your boyfriend today?”

Emily
scrunched up her face in confusion. “No. Why should I?”

Hope took
two steps and stood next to Emily. She shot a grateful smile in Hope’s
direction and faced Lila again.

“It seems to
me that you should know that he was with me all day. We had a lovely day down
by the stream. We held hands, we talked, and he kissed me good-bye when he had
to go do his chores.”

The blood
drained from Emily’s face, and she grabbed hold of Hope’s hand, hoping it would
stop the room spinning around her. Her knees wanted to buckle, but only sheer
force of will kept her from collapsing in front of Lila. 

“What?”
Emily choked out.

“Yes, I can
see you’re shocked. That’s the normal reaction one feels when they realize
their perfect world isn’t. I’d say I’m sorry, but,” she laughed, “I’m not. He’s
a fine catch, and it’s too bad you lost him.” She took a step and got in Emily’s
face. “So much for your perfect relationship. How does it feel to finally be on
the outside?”

Hope took a
step toward Lila, her hand raised. Emily tugged her back. “No, Hope,” she said
hoarsely, shaking her head. “Don’t.”

Hope turned
sad eyes on Emily and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You can leave now,
Lila. You’ve done enough damage for one day,” Hope growled.

Lila waggled
her fingers in their direction and sauntered from the room. As soon as she was
out of sight, Emily sank to the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“He wouldn’t,
right? He couldn’t,” Emily said between hiccups. “We’re solid. I thought we
were solid? Maybe he’s been unhappy. I mean, she’s pretty—not inside where it
counts—but she’s beautiful. And sophisticated. Hope?”

Hope was
shaking her head, anger flashing from her eyes. “No, Emily, you can’t believe
her. Go to Jason and ask. I doubt it’s anything like what she described. She’s
a snake, you know that. And likely she’s only saying this to rattle your cage.”

“I don’t
know, Hope. I just don’t know. Why would she say that though? I mean, really?
Yeah, she’s mean, but that’s just,” she paused, trying to find the right word, “horrible.
It’s just a horrible thing to do to someone.”

Emily was
startled out of her trip down memory lane by the voice of the captain over the
loud speakers. “Attention, passengers, please return to your seats and secure
your belongings. We’re coming into some turbulence, and it’s important for
everyone to be safe. Again, please return to your seats and secure your
belongings. I’ll let you know when we are through the turbulence.” 

Just then,
the plane dipped and Emily gripped the armrests. She closed her eyes and
counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty. They were going to crash; she just
knew it. Panic welled up inside her and all she wanted was to be back on the
ground, safe and sound. 

“Emily?”
Hope asked quietly, prying Emily’s hand off the armrest and holding it tightly
in her own. “Emily, it’s okay. It’s just turbulence. We’re safe, I promise.”

Emily
grimaced and kept her eyes closed. “How do you do this all the time? Every time
the plane dips, my stomach ends up in my throat.”

“I’m just
used to it. It’s just pockets of air that push against the plane’s wings, and
once we’re through them, we dip back to where we’re supposed to be. I promise
we’re safe and the plane won’t crash.”

Emily
nodded, eyes still shut tight. “I couldn’t sleep, you know. I went back to the
beginning. To the start of the rumors. To the start of her taking him away.”

“Why didn’t
you wake me up?”

“One of us
needed sleep,” Emily said wryly. “I went to him, time and again. Every time
there was a new rumor or a new story from her. I would go to him, like he told
me to, and he would promise there was nothing going on.”

“I know. He
was good at relieving your mind.”

“He really was,
wasn’t he? God, I was so naive. So stupid.”

“No, you
loved him. And you wanted to believe in him. To believe he was the man you
thought he was.”

“I should
have known, though. All those rumors, Hope. All the whispers. All the side
glances and conversations that suddenly stopped when I walked in. I should have
known he was just playing me.”

“They were
both playing you. I would have bet my modeling contract on those rumors not
being true. I mean, it was
Lila
we were talking about, how true could
they be?”

“All the
way, true.” Emily released the armrest and wiped a tear from her cheek. “I’m
going to kill Tyler when I see him. Why didn’t he warn me?”

“What do you
mean?”

“I passed
him outside on my way to Jason’s. He told me that he’d delivered Jason to his
bedroom himself. Said that Jason was hammered, and Tyler wasn’t sure if Jason
would even realize I was there.” Emily sniffed and wiped another tear from her
eye. “I just giggled and said it didn’t matter. I’d just snuggle with him.”

“He better
hope Dad doesn’t find out he was the last one to see Jason. He’ll get just as
much of an earful as Jason’s
gonna
get,” Hope said
grimly. 

“Why wouldn’t
he tell me, though?”

“He probably
didn’t see her. This is Lila we’re talking about. No doubt she was hidden in
the shadows or behind the door or in the closet.”

Emily
nodded. “The thing that really gets me, though, the part that just makes me
want to vomit is that I placed my faith in him. Time and time again. Every new
rumor that cropped up, we’d discuss it. He insisted that I come to him if ever
I was feeling low. And I did. Often. All my trust. All my faith—I poured it
into him. And now, I feel so empty. Bereft. Just plain wiped out. How idiotic
was I?”

Hope shook
her head and squeezed Emily’s hand. “You weren’t,
Em
.
You weren’t. He’s the idiotic one.”

“Yeah. But
he’s not the one running away, is he?” She squeezed Hope’s hand and let go.
Staring out the airplane window, she tried to turn her brain off and nap. But
between the turbulence, which never let up, and the memories, sleep was
elusive. Thirty minutes before they were to land, she fell into a fitful sleep,
dreams of dragons and snakes terrorizing her. When Hope nudged her awake
minutes later, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to deplane on her own. She was
bone weary, and all she wanted was to escape the pain and sleep for a week.

After
collecting their luggage, Hope led her to the parking garage and her bright
yellow Jeep Wrangler. Despite her exhaustion, Emily stared, wide-eyed, at the
vehicle. It was not what she was expecting, considering Hope’s wealth.

“Surprised,”
Hope laughed.

“A little,”
she admitted, sheepishly.

“Ha. You can
take the girl out of the desert, but you can’t take the desert out of the girl.”
She opened the trunk and stored their luggage in the back.

“I expected
a BMW or something.”

“Yeah, and I
thought about it. But this felt right, and I love it. I don’t drive often or
far, so comfort isn’t really a big deal for me. And it reminds me of home,” she
said wistfully.

Emily
grinned and hopped up, albeit with some difficulty considering her girth, into
the passenger seat. With curious eyes, she stared out the window as they drove
through the streets of Boston. She’d never been east of the Rockies—really hadn’t
been anywhere outside of New Mexico—and she was amazed at all the shades of
green. There was grass and trees and flowers—everywhere it seemed. The
buildings rose tall against the sky. People were bustling here and there, in a
hurry to get where they needed to go. Cars crowded the streets and horns
shattered the air, a testament to their drivers’ frustrations. She was
awestruck and intimidated by the sheer volume of activity happening around her.
It was a different world compared to the shades of brown that she was used to
at home.

“This is us,”
Hope said, pulling into the parking garage beneath her condo building.

“I think it’ll
be an early bedtime for both of us,” Emily said, smiling as she patted her
belly.

“For sure
but food first.” Hope parked in her spot, and they gathered their things. She
led Emily to the bank of elevators. When they entered, she pressed the button
for the thirtieth floor.

“Thanks,
Hope,” Emily said softly, emotion making her eyes water and her lower lip
tremble.

“Anytime,
sis.” The elevator pinged and they rolled their bags out of the elevator. Hope
led them down the quiet, carpeted hall and then opened the door to her condo. “Welcome
home, Emily,” Hope said, holding the door open so Emily could pass through first.

“Hope, it’s
gorgeous!” Emily breathed. She rushed to the wall of windows in the living room
and looked out onto the view before her. It was amazing. Back home, when she
was riding her horse and out on the ranch, she could see for miles. But that
couldn’t compare with what she saw now.

“How do you
get anything done? I’d sit here and look out these windows all day!”

“I thought
that at first, too. But as time goes on, the view is the view. It doesn’t
change. Much like the views at home.” Hope laughed.

Reluctantly,
Emily turned away from the windows. “I’m starving.”

“Follow me.
I’ll show you your room, and then we can order some food.” Hope led Emily through
the condo, pointing out the obvious areas. “This is you, unless you like the
room across from it better. But this one has a nicer view.”

The room was
larger than Emily’s at home and decorated in creams and deep purples. Emily
fell in love with the color scheme immediately as purple, in any shade, was her
favorite color. “This is wonderful, Hope. I love it!”

“I’m glad.”
Hope laughed, swiping her fingers across her forehead in mock relief. “What do
you feel like eating?”

“Anything.”

Hope
laughed. “How about pizza and a movie?”

“Sounds
wonderful,” Emily said and unzipped her suitcase. “I’m going to take a quick
shower. I feel grimy.”

“Bathroom is
across the hall.”

“Perfect.”

God, his
head hurt. No,
hurt
was too tame a word for what was going on inside his
head. Squinting, he searched for his clock. The glowing numbers were a tad too
bright for his bloodshot eyes, and before he squeezed them closed against the
brightness, he read six thirty. Groaning, he buried his face in the pillow.
What the fuck? Who does this to himself? He was supposed to get married today.
How could he marry the love of his life when he felt like total fucking shit?
He wasn’t even going to be able to keep his eyes open, the light from the sun
was going to split his head in two . . . if the noise didn’t do him in first.
Just a groan had him clutching his head to keep it from littering blood and
brains all over his bed.

If he ever
felt better, which was a big
if
considering the
amount
he’d had to drink to feel this bad, he was going to kill his friends. Slowly
and painfully. They deserved no less.

He crawled
out of bed, staggered to the bathroom to relieve himself, and took two Advil.
Using the wall as a crutch, he slowly made his way back to his room, and
shucking his shirt and jeans, he slid under the sheets. He just needed twenty
more minutes, time enough for the Advil to kick in and take the edge of this
torture off.

Rolling
over, he gingerly opened one eye. Bright sunshine scorched his retinas, forcing
him to slam his eyelid closed. Yep, the sun was going to be the death of him
today.

“I don’t
care how late the bastard got in last night. Go wake up that cheating, no good,
selfish asshole you call a son!”

“Now hold
on, Clint. I think you’re overreacting. Jason loves Emily . . .”

“If you won’t
go get him, I will!”

Jason bolted
upright at the sound of the heated argument downstairs. He flung the blankets
away and fumbled with the doorknob. Three stairs from the bottom he came
face-to-face with Emily’s father.

“You son of
a bitch,” Clint greeted him, fists raised.

Jason, hands
outstretched, stopped short on the stairs and looked over Clint’s shoulder to
his father. That was his first mistake. Clint coldcocked him in the jaw,
knocking Jason back against the railing.

“What the
fuck?” Jason growled, jumping up and curling his hands into fists. He didn’t
want to punch Emily’s father, he liked and respected him, but what the fuck was
going on that Clint was storming into their house and punching him in the face?

Jason’s
father wrapped his arms around Clint’s shoulders and pulled him away from
Jason. “Let’s talk about this, Clint. Beating my son isn’t going to solve the
problem.”

“What
problem?” Jason asked. “What’s going on?”

“Like you
don’t know, you little maggot.”

Jason
breathed through his nose, counting to ten silently. “Sir, I like and respect
you immensely, but I’m not going to stand by for much longer while you call me
names and punch me in my own home.”

Jason
watched as Clint visibly took a moment to calm down.

“Let’s move
this into the kitchen. There’s coffee and whiskey there,” Joe said. He pushed
Clint toward the kitchen and looked back at his son. “Go make yourself decent,
boy!”

Jason looked
down and saw he was just in his boxers, his junk hanging out. Rolling his eyes,
he trudged back upstairs, working the kink out of his jaw. Clint may be old,
but he was still as strong as an ox. The man packed a lot into that punch, and
he’d be lucky if there wasn’t a bruise on his face for the wedding this
afternoon.

He pulled on
a pair of pants and glanced at the clock. Ten o’clock? Jesus! He must have
fallen back to sleep. Last he remembered was waking at six thirty. Shit! There were
less than five hours until the big deal and he had so much to do. Why the hell
had his father let him sleep in so long?

He was so
screwed; Emily was going to kill him. He should have picked up the cake an hour
ago. He still needed to get a haircut and pick up the boutonnieres. Maybe he
could sweet-talk Gina into picking them up when she picked up all the bouquets.

Hell, this
was not the way he wanted to start the rest of his life.

He stopped
short in the doorway of the kitchen. Clint was glaring in his direction, and
his father was standing by the sink with a cup of coffee. He looked up when
Jason entered the kitchen and shook his head.

“What’s
going on?” he asked to the room in general.

“Emily is gone,”
Clint announced.

“Gone? What
do you mean gone? Gone where?”

“Away, as in,
she left because you had a naked woman in your room last night.”

Jason pulled
himself up to his full height. “I most certainly did not!”

“You calling
my daughter a liar?” Clint said, taking a half step in Jason’s direction.

“Sir,” Jason
said uneasily, “I was out with my friends last night. They brought me home
drunker than I’ve ever been in my life. They carried me to my room because
there’s no way I made it up there by myself. I passed out and woke at six
thirty this morning,
alone
, my head pounding and feeling as low as I’ve
ever felt in my life. I fell back to sleep until I heard you two down here
arguing. There is no woman in my room—feel free to go up and check it out if
you’d like.”

“Just
because there isn’t one there now, or when you woke at six thirty, doesn’t mean
there wasn’t one last night. Emily saw it with her own eyes.”

“Why didn’t
she say anything?”

“What would
she have said? She’s devastated and gone.”

“Well, where
did she go? I’ll go find her and explain.”

“I don’t
know where she went. I just know there isn’t going to be a wedding today, and I’m
this close to murdering you, boy,” Clint said, holding up his thumb and
forefinger, which were centimeters apart.

“Who does
know where she is?”

“Grace, but
she’s not telling.”

“What about
Hope?”

“Hope is
with her,” Clint said.

Jason pulled
out his phone and dialed Emily. Straight to voicemail. Trying again, he raised
his eyes to Clint’s when it went straight to voicemail for the second time.

“Sir, I
promise you I did not cheat on Emily. I don’t know what she saw, I don’t
remember a damn thing from last night. But I know me, and I know how I feel
about your daughter. I would never cheat on her. Never. I swear I will fix this.”

Running up
the stairs to his room, he grabbed the first shirt he saw, threw on his
sneakers, all the while searching his room for clues. He didn’t see any women’s
clothing, no condom wrappers, no evidence in the trash, nothing.

Why would
Emily lie to her parents about this? Did she have cold feet? Was she nervous?
Didn’t she love him anymore? He had to get to the bottom of this. Their future
was on the line.