Joy Ride (19 page)

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Authors: Desiree Holt

BOOK: Joy Ride
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But the band had only one more week at Aftershock, and she had no idea where they were going next. She had such a strong sense of being in over her head with Marc, of falling into a world that was entirely foreign to her. On the other hand, the thought of not seeing him again was too depressing to contemplate.

I am a freaking mess
.

“Emma? Are you there?” Her mother’s voice broke into her thoughts. “Are you with us here?”

“Yes, Mom. Sorry.” She glanced over at her mother who was staring at her.

“What on earth have you done with your hair?” She sounded so horrified she might have been asking,
why did you paint your face green
? It was the old now-you’ve-done-it voice.

“I just…livened it up a little.” Emma tried to keep from squirming.

“With purple? And the rest of the color’s different.”

“Just a little change,” Emma said with a touch of defiance. “I was in the mood for something different.”

Angela smoothed her napkin in her lap. “I thought about inviting Andrew tonight. I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t. He’d probably take a look at what you’ve done to yourself and walk back out the door.”

Emma was barely holding on to her temper by now. All her life she’d been her parents’ “good girl” and been rewarded with approval and pats on the head. Now that she was unexpectedly moving into a new phase of her life, changing things about herself, their disapproval was both hurtful and irritating. She wanted to scream that she wasn’t twelve years old any more.

“Well.” She calmed herself with a sip of iced tea. “It’s a good thing you didn’t invite him because we aren’t seeing each other any more. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know what’s wrong between the two of you but your father has convinced me not to stick my nose into your business.”

Emma glanced at her father and mouthed,
I owe you, Daddy
.

Her father made no acknowledgment, just forked another bite of food into his mouth.

“We haven’t seen you in a while,” her mother went on, “and we just wanted to spend a little time with you.”

“So, kitten.” Her father leaned back in his chair and wiped his mouth. “Your mother tells me you and Andrew had a little spat or something.”

Okay. Here it comes. So you’re not on my side after all. Well, what did I expect?

Through her entire life, whenever she’d done something that violated the boundaries the parents set for her even the least little bit, it was always her father who was supposed to be the voice of reason. He was an attorney and a very good one, but she always felt as if he was prepping her for the witness stand. It had never been quite as obvious to her as it was until now.

“It wasn’t a little spat.” She took a swallow of her cold drink. “It was a lot more than that. But it’s nothing you need to be concerned about.”

They both looked at her with identical bewildered expressions.

“I don’t understand,” Angela said. “Everyone, all my friends, have been expecting a big announcement from the two of you. Andrew’s mother and I—”

“Wait.” Emma held up her hand. “You’ve talked to his
mother
about this?” Why was that so surprising? In her mother’s circle that was the established pattern.

“Well, of course, dear. It’s proper to consult with the mother of the groom when planning a wedding.” She touched her immaculate hairdo.

“You know how well Andrew has fit in with us,” her father added. “Your mother and I saw such a wonderful future for the two of you. We can’t imagine what went wrong.”

Emma had the feeling she had suddenly stepped into someone else’s life. Or that she’d been sleeping for thirty years and woke up to find herself in someone else’s body.

She carefully put down her knife and fork, refilled her iced tea glass from the pitcher on the table and slowly stirred in two packets of sweetener, giving herself time to collect her thoughts and biting back the angry words threatening to spill out of her mouth. She had to remind herself that her parents truly thought they knew what was best for her, but what defined “best” had changed drastically and they didn’t know it. Taking a small sip before setting the glass down, she looked from one to the other.


If
there was a wedding, it would be
my
wedding. So don’t you think I should have been the one you talked to first? Not to mention the fact that Andrew and I never officially became engaged.”

“But everyone thought…” her mother began. “That is, the children of our friends followed this pattern and—”

“And you expected me just to fall into place. Right?”

Neither of them said a word, watching her as if she’d just told them she had an incurable disease. And maybe in their world, breaking out of the accepted social pattern was just as devastating.

“I know you and Mom are worried, Daddy, but there’s really nothing to be concerned about here. Andrew and I have just decided our…relationship was a mistake, and it would be better to go our own ways.”

“Not according to Andrew,” her mother said.

“What?” Emma was startled. “What do you mean? Has he been talking to you again?”

Her father nodded. “He came to see me at the office this week to plead his case.”

“Oh, my God.” She threw up her hands. “What is wrong with him? Are we teenagers here or something?”

“Now, kitten.” Her father’s voice had taken on that overly tolerant tone, as if reasonable words would bring about the reasonable conclusion that was always his goal.

But Emma was tired of this conversation.

“Don’t ‘kitten’ me, Daddy.” She hated that childhood nickname. “I’m an adult. Almost thirty years old. I make my own decisions about my personal life. I find it insulting that Andrew runs to you like I’m some idiot casting aside the prize of the century and expects you to, what, talk sense into me?”

Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

“Oh, my God,” she said again. “He can’t accept the fact that it’s over so he figures you’ll take up for him. So we can fall into the ‘accepted and proper’ pattern again, right? Holy crap.”

“There’s no need to use vulgar language,” Angela told her.

Vulgar language? Holy crap is vulgar language?

Listening to them, Emma was struck by just how sterile her life had been up until now. She shuddered to think how she’d been so accepting of it. Content enough that Annie had believed dull, boring Andrew to be the perfect person for her. And almost two weeks ago, she’d believed it herself.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Look. I know Andrew is a really nice man, and it’s my fault for letting everyone—including him—believe we were headed down the bridal path. But I don’t love Andrew. I’m not sure now I ever did. It’s like…like….” She chuffed in frustration. “Like I woke up one day and discovered my world had been gray and now I realized there were colors. Can you even try to understand that?”

“Your mother tells me your old roommate Jacie was in town a week or so ago and you had lunch with her.” Her father shook his head. “I always did think she was a wild one. Now she’s filled your head full of ridiculous ideas.”

“Oh, my God,” she repeated yet again. “Jacie is
not
wild. She’s a happily married woman completely in love with a husband she raves about. I don’t even feel one-tenth for Andrew of what she feels for Michael. She has a wonderful family and a career she thrives on. What do I have? A job editing textbooks and reruns of old movies every Saturday night. What is so bad about wanting something different?” She looked from one to the other. “What if I’d married Andrew and
then
realized I’d made a mistake?”

“A lot of women would love to have a dependable man like Andrew for a husband,” her mother pointed out.

“And so I’m sure they’ll be lining up for him once he lets them know he’s available. He’s just not for me.”

Her father studied her carefully. “I don’t suppose visiting a rock and roll bar had anything to do with it, either.”

Emma froze in shock. How in God’s name did they know that?

“You didn’t think we’d know? Andrew told me when he came to my office.”

“What? He
followed
me?”

Thad Blake nodded.

“And then what did he do?” Oh God, what if he’d followed her to Marc’s? How did she explain that?

“He said he waited in the parking lot for a little while but you never came out. He wasn’t about to go into that…
place
, and after a while some man came and told him he couldn’t keep sitting there, and he’d have to leave.”

“He sat there like some stalker?” A bubble of hysterical laughter wiggled its way up her throat.

Her father nudged his plate away. “He was very concerned, Emma.”

Emma pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’ll just bet he was. Concerned.” She almost spat the word. “Enough to follow me but not to wait around to see if I was in trouble? Listen to me. Andrew was
concerned
he was going to lose a cook and housekeeper and someone who wouldn’t rattle his chain. Holy crap!”

“Emma!” Angela admonished.

“Crap, crap, crap,” Emma repeated, feeling as if she were ten years old, throwing a tantrum and about to get her mouth washed out with soap. “Do you both realize that in a couple of weeks I’ll be
thirty years old?
I can go wherever I want. With whoever I want. I don’t need permission anymore.”

“Honey, please.” Angela looked at her, distress stamped on her face. “We raised you to be a good girl, a decent woman. Not go places where they have things like…drugs.”

“Drugs?” Emma tried to get a handle on the anger threatening to burst forth. “There are no drugs in the places I go to. And the people are very nice. Don’t pass judgment on things you know nothing about. Have you ever even been to that kind of club?” She threw her hands up in the air. “Of course not. And they weren’t even in my universe growing up. Not in my carefully selected group of friends.”

“There’s no crime in not going certain places,” Angela fretted. “Or liking certain things.”

“No. But there is in prejudging them.” Emma swallowed the urge to scream. How did she let them dictate her life all these years? “Why couldn’t you have given me the freedom to make my own choices? Didn’t you trust me?”

“We gave you a good life, honey.”

“Yes, and I’m very grateful for it. But now you have to let me figure things out for myself. I’m going to be thirty years old. Give me a break here. Please.”

“Emma,” her father began.

“No. This was a mistake.” She took a couple of deep, hopefully calming breaths. “Look. I love you both. I really do. And I appreciate that you want certain things for me. But I’m not a child. I need to make my own decisions. And if what I want isn’t what you had in mind, I hope
you
love
me
enough to accept that.” She kissed each of her parents in turn. “I’ll call you tomorrow. Please don’t worry. I’m really fine. Just battling with a case of arrested development.”

Her anger boiled over again as she pulled away from the house, grabbing her like a living thing. It grew and expanded as she drove through the streets until she reached her destination. Rocking to a stop in the driveway, she turned the engine off, then ran up the porch steps and banged on the front door.

“Open up,” she yelled when nothing happened at once, and pounded away again.

“What’s the matter?” Andrew pulled open his door and stared at her. “Emma. Have you lost your mind?”

“I’m wondering if
you
lost yours. You
followed
me?”

“Try to understand,” he said, attempting to placate her.

“Understand what? Damn, Andrew. Are you turning into a stalker? I’d never have believed it of you.”

“Listen.” He looked over her head at the street. “Why don’t you come inside and we can discuss this rationally?”

“Two reasons. I’m never coming inside again and I’m not rational.” She fisted her hands and dug her nails into her palms, reaching for some measure of inner restraint and wanting to smack Andrew for being so dense. “We’re finished, Andrew. Try to get that through your head. I don’t love you. Maybe I only thought I did. But I saved us from making a big mistake.”

“Your friend Annie put you up to this.” He delivered the words in a hard, flat tone.

“Annie?” She heard her voice rising and swallowed hard. “Annie has nothing to do with this. Don’t you think I have a mind of my own?”

“If you did, we wouldn’t be standing here now having this argument.”

“What? Are you saying I’m stupid? Or dumb? Easily influenced? ”

Was that how he saw her? What her parents expected of her? Another Stepford wife to take her place in their social circle?

How did I never see this side of him before? He’s not bland, he’s controlling. He was only bland as long as I didn’t object to anything.

Ohmigod!

“Listen to what I’m going to say, Andrew.” She made herself speak slowly and patiently because she didn’t intend to go through this again. “I will say this one last time. Don’t ever presume to follow me again or go behind my back to my parents. It’s pointless because I make my own decisions. And marrying you isn’t one of them.”

She spun on her heel and hurried back to her car. The tires squealed as she backed out into the street and pulled away.

Well, that went well.

But she had to admit, while she’d insisted to everyone what a grownup she was, she didn’t act like one where Marc was concerned. Not telling him her name. Afraid to let him into her world. Hiding behind secrecy like a kid sneaking out of the house.

Yet she still held back. Maybe because she didn’t understand enough of his world. Didn’t trust that what the two of them had was real and important. Or was she still afraid of what would happen if she gave him a glimpse into hers?

The one thing she couldn’t ignore was the relationship growing between them. More than just sex. More than thrills. She needed to quit riding the fence.

But it’s all so new to me. I’m not ready yet. And I’m not sure I ever will be
.

 

 

Chapter Ten

 

 

Marc was trying to pull himself together as he drove to the site where the band was shooting the video. His Music Lady hadn’t come back for the last two nights. Why not? Had he pushed too hard? Had his little game of Twenty Questions scared her off? Or all the information he’d given her about the business he was in?

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