Mine to Lose (18 page)

Joss has to be the best friend a girl can
have, or at the very least, I’m grateful that she’s mine. The movers dropped
everything off at her,
our
, place by two o’clock, and we worked until
dark to get it all put away. She had been using her second bedroom as an office
space, but moved her desk into her room. I was touched by her kindness, but
then again, that’s how she’s always been. It’s strange how the entire contents
of a life, or relationship, can fit into one small twelve by twelve room, yet
somehow we did just that.

Last night, I was able to hang out with
Joss without unpacking or moping. I was terribly hungry and I hadn’t been
eating since the breakup. So we ordered six different entrees from the Chinese
takeout menu. We opened them all up and I devoured what amounted to two all on
my own. She laughed, happy that I finally got my appetite back.

“Hell, no wedding dress to squeeze into,
no boyfriend.” I looked at the table covered in food. “This will be my new
life. I will eat everything in sight.”

When I went to bed, full and tired, I
slept more sound than I had in a while. I was dreaming of Ryan and beaches that
turned into Chinese takeout that was chasing me. I kept trying to get back to
the good part of my dream when I sat upright and bolted to the toilet, vomiting
every last bit of Chinese food I had inhaled. I threw up two more times before
I was finally able to get to bed.

“Good morning sunshine,” Joss coos over
her shoulder from the kitchen. She does a double take. “You look terrible.”

“You’re such a charmer,” I say with a glare.

“What? Did you cry yourself to sleep?
Your eyes are puffy,” she says as she walks over to get a better look at me.

“I think I got food poisoning last
night.”

“We ate the same thing, and I’m fine.
Maybe you’re pregnant,” she says before walking away.

“Don’t even joke about that,” I warn her.
“Besides, you didn’t eat the sesame chicken because you said it’s too sweet.”

She wrinkles her nose and thinks about it.
“Do you really think you got food poisoning?”

“It’s more plausible than me being
pregnant,” I bite at her.

“Are you sure, because you’re kinda bitchy
right now? Is it that time of month?”

I roll my eyes and turn back to my
bedroom. “Fuck me! I’m moving out!”

Joss’ laughter behind me causes me to
laugh in return as I shut the door to get ready for work. I’m not sure how she
does it, but she’s amazing at getting me out of my funk. I have dreaded going
in to work today, mainly because I have less than two weeks before Trey’s
dinner party. There are still details to take care of, so I’ll have to get
those done this week.

I retrieve my favorite black skinny jeans
and pair them with a vintage concert tee that I bought a while back. I haven’t
worn it yet, because I’ve been meeting with so many people. But there is
nothing on the docket today, so this is perfect. I put my dark grey suede
blazer on and spruce up the outfit with a few pieces of costume jewelry. When I
check my reflection in the mirror, I realize that I look better than I have in
a while.

My desk is still clean from Thursday
afternoon, since I took Friday off to pack. The only thing I notice is the
blinking red light on my phone, indicating that I have a message. The time
stamp says it was left on Friday, so I rush to check it.

“Em, Emogen, this is Trey. When you have
a moment I need to talk to you about some last minute details. I have a few
concerns. Thanks.”

I make myself a note to call him in a
while, with the goal of checking up on all details so I can give him as much
information as possible. Thumbing through the file, I find that everything is
still going according to plan. I want to contact every vendor we’ve signed
contracts with, just to ensure that they are on task and ready for next week.

I’m just finishing up the first of seven
phone calls I have to make when a text from Trey buzzes through on my cell.

Trey: Call me. Issue with
entertainment

Me: What's going on?

Trey: Urgent

I look over to Cam, who is knee deep in
details for a wedding this weekend to see what she knows. “Cam, did something
happen with the DJ for the T.M. event next weekend?”

“Not that I’m aware of, why?

“Not sure,” I respond, getting worried
that I dropped the ball somewhere along the way. “Trey just sent a vague text
about it and said I need to call.”

She looks as concerned as I do, but this
is my client and my job on the line, so I have to do whatever it takes to make
sure this goes off without a hitch. I pick up the office phone, dial his number
and wait for him to pick up. “Trey, it’s Emogen. I just got your text.”

“All of them?”

“There was more than the one I you just
sent?”

“No, that was all,” he says with a laugh.

“So what’s going on with the
entertainment?”

“Nothing, they’re great,” he says as
though it’s any other conversation.

“Are you kidding me? You said it was
urgent, I thought something fell through,” I say with relief, but still
confused as to the need for a call.

“I’ve had Hattie handling things here,
and I know that Cam has been taking care of it on your end.” He pauses for a
moment before finishing. “I just want to make sure that everything’s okay.”

I read into that last statement, curious
if he knows about the breakup. It’s not something I plan to talk about with
anyone, especially my client. I decide to ignore my gut and focus on the task
at hand. “I was actually in the middle of making phone calls to reconfirm
everything, so I’ll email the details and a timeline later,” I say, hoping to
end the phone call.

“Great,” he starts. “I have some things I
want to go over, so let’s meet for lunch.”

“Today’s not a good day,” I tell him,
while I look at my calendar. “I have a meeting set up from eleven thirty to one
o’clock.” I need to call Callie to see what this is about.

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“All it says is lunch at-”

“The Bistro,” he finishes with a laugh
while I gather my wits. “Pick you up at eleven.”

I don’t even have time to respond because
he hangs up the phone. Dumbfounded, I hang up the receiver to pick it up again.
“Callie, did you schedule this appointment on my calendar with Mr. Miller?”

“Yes,” she replies timidl
y
, like she’s waiting for me to yell at her. “He
called Friday morning, and I told him you wouldn’t be in until today. He said
that it was urgent that he meets with you. Is something wrong?”

Urgent
. There’s that word again. I don’t think he knows the
meaning of the word, because that is reserved for something that has to be
taken care of now. Avoiding Trey for the rest of the week is what is
urgent
to me.

“No, Callie. Thank you,” I say with
defeat before hanging up the phone.

* * *

“Why didn’t you tell me about this lunch
date?” I ask as we take a seat at our table.

“Not a date. Besides, it’s not like
you’ve been easy to get a hold of,” he reminds me as he slips his sunglasses off.

Ouch
. Did I really just try to call this a date?

“I’ve been really busy. Cam’s been
handling some of the details.”
Like calling you.
“But I’ve been keeping
up with the schedule and working on the table layout.”

He nods at my answer while studying the
menu in his hand. I haven’t really been around Trey since Langley and Reid were
in town. Our meeting after that made things awkward and blurred the
professional line. That’s the reason I asked Cam to handle any face to face
that might be needed. Had I known that he was going to give Hattie a shot at
really taking care of everything on the T.M. side of things, I wouldn’t have
been so quick to step away.

He places his menu off to the side and takes
a sip of his water. When he sets the drink down, I can feel his eyes on me. I
stare a little harder at my menu, hoping to buy myself a little more time.

“You’re looking at that thing like it can
cure cancer.” His statement elicits an uncomfortable laugh from me, but I can’t
help but look at him to acknowledge his observation.

“It does,” I answer in my snarkiest tone.

“So what looks good?”

“Honestly?” I eye him and he nods. “Nothing.
I got food poisoning last night, so I don’t have much of an appetite.” As if on
cue, my stomach growls at an embarrassing level and he starts laughing.

“Either you’re lying, or you’re feeling
better. Just order something, you can always finish it later,” he instructs.

The waiter stops by and takes our orders
before scurrying off, leaving us in silence once again. I pull out the file and
begin going over the information that he needs for the evening. He knows that
I’m going to send him an email, and I’ll also be on hand to handle everything,
but I get the feeling he’s a bit of a control freak. But then again, this is
his name, his company and his future clients that are being catered to. We
discuss the table layout and he makes a few seating arrangement changes, but is
happy with the setup overall. When Lisa told us about the caterer issue, we
found another that she suggested. After sampling a couple of things on their
menu and contacting a few of their references, I was sold, but Trey took a bit
more coaxing because he wanted to use someone more established. I reminded him
that he needed to take a chance on people, just like he expects potential
clients to take a chance on him. He’s still not completely convinced, but I appreciate
that at least he trusts my judgment.

Our plates have been removed and the
waiter brings me a box for my leftovers. The meeting has gone really well, and
I’m glad that he insisted on seeing me. There is relief knowing that I have
everything taken care of and Trey is happy with my work. Feeling our meeting is
done, I remove my napkin from my lap to stand up, but he remains seated, so I do
as well.

“How was your visit with Ryan?” he asks,
making conversation.

“Trey, I’d really rather not discuss
that, if you don’t mind,” I say as respectfully as I can, exhaling a breath.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry, just
making conversation,” he says with a crooked smile.

“Yeah well, that’s a dead conversation.” My
tone is clipped and I see concern in his eyes.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

He leans toward me, assessing my short
responses before slowly reaching for my hand. “We’re friends, right?”

He’s trying to comfort me, and while I
appreciate it, his hand on mine clouds my judgment. Granted, we have become
friends, but my heart is breaking over the loss of Ryan in my life. Trey’s
touch makes me feel guilty for craving this from him, and at the same time, it
gives me peace. How can he read me and know that I need this?

“You’re my client, first.”

“No, right now, I’m your friend. What’s
going on?”

“Trey, I appreciate your concern, but
really, I’m fine.”

“Did you guys have a fight? I’m sorry,”
he adds in a rush, “that’s none of my business.”

“No.” My eyes close and I shake my head.
“It’s really not, but I am fine. We broke up, it hurts and it sucks, and that’s
all I’ll say about it. I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”

The sympathy I see in his eyes causes my
heart to break a little more. I don’t want sympathy or pity or anything else,
but it seems that’s what I’ll be getting for a while. I suppose that’s the
reaction when people hear of a broken engagement. “I’m sorry to hear that, Em.
If you need anything, I
am
your friend.”

“Thanks.” I smile, happy I’ve been able
to keep the tears at bay. “And yes, we’re friends.”

“Hey Em.” Langley’s voice sounds through
the phone. “You’re still coming out next weekend, right?”

“Lang,” I say with exasperation. “Can I
please get through one big thing at a time? I haven’t been feeling well and I
have Trey’s event tomorrow night. I need to focus on this.”

“What’re you gonna wear?”

“Black.” Of course it’s black. It’s
always black, that’s Elle’s signature. A knock at the door interrupts our conversation.
“Hold on, someone’s at the door.”

“Maybe it’s a serial killer,” she says in
a fake panicked tone. “Don’t answer it!” she screams, causing me to laugh. I
don’t even look through the peephole before I answer the door and my world
stops.

“Ryan?”

“Hey, Em.” He looks unsure and as
handsome as I remember.
Ha! Remember? I look at his picture every night.

“What? What are you doing here?” I
stumble over the words, confused by his presence.

“I called Joss earlier to see if I could
pick up the box you left for me. She didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, that would be a no,” I say stepping
aside to let him in.

“Lang?”

“Yeah, call me back,” she says hanging up
the phone.

I turn to face Ryan, stunned that this is
even happening. Joss played me. She convinced me to try yoga with her, not that
she exercises, but I figured I had nothing better to do. But this afternoon she
called and canceled saying that she had a late meeting and couldn’t make it.

“What are you doing here?” Ryan’s voice
interrupts my thoughts and I realize I've been standing silent like an idiot.

“I live here now,” I inform him. My words
are steady, and show no signs of breaking. I might just make it through this
little surprise visit.

“She didn’t mention that.”

“There’s a lot she didn’t mention,” I say
more to myself than him.

“What’s that?” He leans forward to
listen.

“Nothing. Do you want something to
drink?”

“I’m fine,” he says as I walk to the
couch, showing him a seat. “What did Joss do with her furniture?” He references
our couch replacing hers.

“Donated it to a woman's shelter.” When I
tell him this, he seems to be mulling it over, or maybe he’s reeling from
seeing me.

When he finally speaks, it’s as if we’re
mere acquaintances. “How have you been?”

“Good,” I say, realizing that I am good.
It’s not a lie.

“You look good, Em.”

“So do you. Work going okay?”

“It’s going,” he shrugs, clearly not
wanting to elaborate.

“Where're you stayin’?”

“Dean’s place,” he admits, cocking his
head to the side. “Cam didn’t tell you I was in town?”

The eye rolling is involuntary, I swear.
The knowledge that Cam knew, and didn’t tell me, that Joss knew and didn’t tell
me. I don’t know what game they’re playing but it needs to stop. It’s been over
a month, I have to move on, and they need to let it go.

“Lemme get your box,” I offer as I head
to my bedroom.  The box has been safely tucked out of my sight, keeping me
from going through it over and over. It’s heavy, but I manage to carry it out,
only to have him meet me to help.

“What’s in here?”

“Whatever you didn’t take to San Diego.
Mostly little things like shot glasses, some t-shirts and other junk.”

“Junk, huh? What about that shirt you’re
wearing?” His eyes scan over my body and I fight the urge to hide, but I have
no reason to slink away.

“I’m keeping this one.” My tone lets him
know I am not to be argued with.

“What if I want it?” He smiles like it’s
any other conversation, as though he didn’t just rip my heart out weeks ago. I
want to punch him or yell at him for being here right now. How can he stand
here and flirt with me, as though no time has passed?

“Tough, it’s mine.” My hands fly to my
hips and right then I see it in his eyes, he still loves me. “But this is
yours.”

I walk away, leaving him standing alone
in the living room. There on my dresser rests the little box that holds what I
treasured most. I pull out the ring and place it on my finger one last time and
marvel how much it's been a part of me before slipping it off. When I come
back, the box is on the floor in front of him and he’s standing there waiting
for me with a shy smile.

My smile is small, and filled with sorrow
as I open my hand. “Here you go.”

Ryan looks down and sees the ring, his
eyebrows furrow as though he's in pain. “No. I gave that to you.”

“And now I'm giving it back.”

“I don’t want it back,” he argues,
turning to walk away from me.

“Ryan, this was a promise that you made
to me. A promise of love and a life of forever. I wore it with all the hope
that it vowed, but that’s over. I need you to take it back. Please?”

“But-”

“Please.” My voice breaks and he shakes
his head.

The sound of a key entering the lock
outside the door snaps us back to the here and now. Joss walks in and spots
Ryan and I standing apart, and not happy. I look to my friend and shake my head
at her for the betrayal.

Ryan finally looks back at me and I walk
over and wrap my arms around him one last time. When his arms embrace me, he
pours so much into it, but I pull away. He still has his hands on my hips and I
push to my toes and plant a chaste kiss to his lips. “I will always love you,
Ryan Tate.” My hand reaches down and I push the engagement ring into his front
pocket before slipping out of his arms and out of the room.

With the door closed behind me, I try to
steady my breathing in hopes that I won't cry, but it doesn't help. My emotions
keep getting the best of me, but at least no one is around to witness them.
Score
one for a brave face.
Their muffled voices are audible through the door, so
I close my eyes to listen, pressing my ear against it.

“Why didn’t you tell her I was coming in
town?” I can hear the irritation in his tone and it’s pretty clear he might be
as angry with her as I am.

“I’m sorry, Ry, I guess I hoped that you
would see each other and the old feelings would return.” Joss’s voice is sad,
and somewhat shamed.

“The old feelings, which you’re referring
to, never left. At least not for me, things just got messed up.” Hearing these
words from him cut to my core.
He
ended it, and I felt like he didn’t
want to fight for me, or for us.

“Did you tell her that?”

“I hurt her, Joss. I don’t blame her for
hating me; you should have seen the way she looked at me when she gave me the
ring back. What am I supposed to say to that? No, Em’s moved on.”

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself.”
When I hear her begin to argue her point, I push away from the door to take a
shower. Maybe the sting of scalding water will take away the pain my heart
feels all over again just seeing him.

I don’t know how long I was in the
shower, but I couldn’t tell my tears from the water, so I don’t consider it
true crying. I’m drying my hair when Joss slinks up, hiding to the side like a
coward. My scowl gives my unhappiness with her away, but she moves into my
space, ignoring my obvious disdain for her. The dryer is loud, but the thoughts
in my head are louder, so I shut it off and turn to face her.

“What in the hell were you thinking,
Joss? That was embarrassing, and shitty.” My voice is raised as I glare at her.

“Look, we just thought-”

“We? Who was in on this?” My anger is
boiling over as I discover this was a conspiracy.

“Cam and Dean-”

I no longer try to control the decibel of
my voice, giving her the full brunt of my ire. “Are you kidding me? Were you
trying to fuckin’
Parent Trap
us? Well, I got news for you, Joss, it
didn’t work. We are over. Ryan made his choice, he ended this, and I have to
live with it. So I would appreciate it if you stopped interfering and let me
move on. Can you do that?”

My eyes snap from her toward the living
room, when I hear the door shut. She looks over her shoulder, and then back to
me. “He was waiting to talk to you.”

“Get out!”

* * *

Compartmentalizing has become an art form
to me, one that I believe I’ve become quite good at. For example, today I am
running all over town, ensuring that everything is ready for tonight. Elle has
provided me with a team of people to help with Trey’s event, and knowing I have
support makes me feel better. Trey actually tried to get me to forego working
the event and attend as his date. I had to tell him several times that it was
not an option, but I would make sure to stop by and say hello. When I left the
apartment this morning, I grabbed my dress for the evening, deciding I would
get ready at the office. Joss was in the kitchen eating breakfast when I
emerged from my room, but I was still giving her the silent treatment; I was
not ready to talk to her yet. I took my actions a step further and called Elle
to make sure that Cam was not on my team for the evening; I breathed a sigh of
relief when I found out that she would have her own event to attend.

Ivy Glen is bustling with wait staff and
vendors setting up tables and decorations. We adjusted the lighting to be dim, but
bright enough that the guests will be able to see each other’s faces when they
talk. The table layout is exactly as I envisioned when I sent it to Lisa a week
ago. Someone from her team passes by me so I ask where I can find her.

I haven’t seen her yet, but when I ask
her staff where she is, they inform me that Lisa’s likely in her office. I walk
down the hallway to find her sitting at her desk when I knock on the door.
“C’mon in,” she says without looking up.

“I just wanted to stop by and say hello
before I get out there to help with setup.”

“Well look at you! You look great. Did
you do something different with your hair?” I can’t help but laugh at her
assessment, especially considering I spent the better part of last night in
tears.

“You’re a terrible liar, but thank you, I
needed that.” I wink as I turn to leave, but she stops me.

“No, something’s up, but I can’t put my
finger on it.” She rubs her finger along her lips in thought.

“The only thing different since the last
time you saw me is that I find myself single these days.”

I love this girl, because she doesn’t
give me
the
look. The one that says,
poor, Emogen
, the one that
actually makes me want to vomit. “Well, the single life looks good on you.”

Those words feel like a physical blow to
my gut. Pangs of guilt, hurt and loss cause my stomach to roll, but I take a
deep breath and try to accept her words for the compliment they were meant to
be. My smile is small, but I offer what I can before making my way back to the
hall to setup.

Four cups of coffee, a nervous stomach
and three hours later, every table is adorned with brown colored linens and
violet napkins. The centerpieces are exactly what Jaysen showed us months ago,
a credit to his talent. Small square vases are overflowing with every variety
of purple flowers I know, and even some that I am unfamiliar with. The work
these people have put into this is impressive, and as much as I want to see it
completed, I have a job to do, and if I don’t look the part, it’ll be my head.

I let Lisa know that I’m heading to the
office to get ready, but she offers me use of her space, and I accept
gratefully. I went shopping the other day, needing something to make me feel
both different and special. After hours of looking, I finally chose a black
satin dress with a sheer overlay that has beaded lace across the chest and
arms. Slipping the dress on, I felt instantly confident, as if it had magic to
make me feel better, which I know is ridiculous, but it works. In the middle of
applying the finishing touches to my makeup, I hear voices outside in the
hallway, so I rush to finish to make sure there are no problems.

When I emerge, I find Trey and Lisa in
conversation only for him to stop talking altogether to gape at me. I feel
exposed, but I’m completely dressed and ready to start work. “Is everything
okay?”

Trey is still staring when Lisa gives his
shoulder a shove. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. I was asking Lisa when you were expected.”

“I’ve been here most of the day to
oversee the setup. Have you seen it yet?”

“Yeah, it looks great.”

“I was just going to check it out, when I
left they were still working on setting the tables,” I say over my shoulder,
leaving them staring after.

Damn!
He looks gorgeous. I know that he’s an attractive
man, and his confidence only makes him sexier. He is usually dressed in a
button down shirt and casual slacks, but tonight, he’s dressed in a black suit
with a white shirt and a thin black tie is exposed through his open jacket. He
seriously looks like he just stepped out of the pages of a men’s clothing
catalog. I keep walking to the main room, hoping to cool off and get my
thoughts back on the work at hand, which is easy to do when I see everything in
place.