Now and Then (2 page)

“Thanks! It was so nice to meet you both.”

Emma turned as they walked back down the flower-lined sidewalk. Cole was wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He was the cutest boy she’d ever seen. When he’d smiled at her, she’d felt like her insides were melting. Maybe it was okay that her new neighbor was a boy after all.

Now

Emma forgot her coffee-soaked shirt as she gaped at Cole. It didn’t seem possible, but he had gotten better looking. His tall, broad frame was more filled out than she remembered. His blond hair, which he’d worn long and shaggy in high school, was now cropped in a short, GQ style. But the blue-gray eyes that had first melted her heart all those years ago hadn’t changed a bit.

She sh
ook her head with frustration when she saw the large, dark stain on the starched white shirt he wore beneath his tailored pinstriped navy suit.

“I’m so sorry, Cole, you’
re a mess,” she said.

“It’s no big deal, I keep an extra suit at the office. I’m sorry that asshole knocked you over.”

He followed her to a tall table, where she tried to soak the coffee out of her shirt with napkins, to no avail.

“It’s been so long,” he said, smiling warmly. “You look incredible.”

“Thanks,” she said, flushing. “You, too. Do you work nearby?”

“I’m
at Murphy and Kline, a law firm a block over.”

“My Mom mentioned you were going to law school. That’s great, Cole.”

“Do you work in the area?”

“I’m across the street at Wright Design.”
Emma was conscious of touching her breasts in front of him as she tried to wipe coffee from her shirt.

“Small world, right?” he smiled. “I haven’t seen you since your high school graduation party. How long has it been?”

“I guess that was … six years ago. I was in Paris five years for school and I’ve been back here for a year.”

“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you. I’ve been at Murphy and Kline almost three months, and I come here all the time.”

There was a pause, and Emma looked down at the pile of wet napkins on the table. Her heart pounded uncontrollably, and she tried to remember what her hair and makeup looked like. Probably not great, given the rush she’d been in this morning. Cole Marlowe’s effect on her was unchanged. She’d regressed into an awkward, stumbling adolescent.

“Do you have time for some
coffee?” he asked. “It’d be great to catch up with you.”

How many times had she dreamed of Cole Marlowe asking her to get together? Hundred
s. She’d played out so many scenes during her high school years where he realized that his dream girl was actually his neighbor from across the street, though she was three years younger than him.

The woman who had served Emma’s coffee walked out with a fresh tray, handing it over.

“I saw what happened and made you these,” she said.

“Thank you,” Emma said, reaching into her purse.

“No charge,” the woman said, waving.

“Thanks. At least take this,” Emma said, handing her a five. She pocketed it and smiled as she disappeared behind the counter.

“I’m actually just on a coffee run for my boss,” Emma told Cole, gesturing at the tray. “He’ll be upset if I don’t get back with it.”

“Sure. Do you need help with that?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks.”

Cole followed her to the door and held it open.

“Good to see you, Em,” he said. She nodded and grinned foolishly.

As she left the shop
, she exhaled deeply, trying to calm her thudding heart. Cole Marlowe hadn’t crossed her mind in a while. But just one look into those blue-gray eyes and she was weak in the knees again. She thought of his broad smile and deep, warm voice the entire way up to her office.

Aaron winked at Emma when
she handed over his coffee, and she smiled politely.

“How are you this morning
, Emmaline?” he asked, taking a sip from the thick paper cup.

“I’m good, how are you?”

“Not bad. Ready to get this new campaign in gear. I’m glad you’ll be working on it. I like your eye. I want to meet about it at … maybe 11?”

Emma nodded. Aaron
was around 50, and she’d liked him from the first minute of her job interview with him almost a year ago. She’d been honest – her passion was painting, not graphic design, but she needed a job to pay the bills. Aaron had seen a degree from the Sorbonne on her resume and been intrigued. He’d hired her on the spot.

It was working
out well for Emma, who used her artistic skills to design logos, graphics and other materials for businesses. It didn’t fulfill her the way painting did, but it was fun at times and it got her into a social setting, unlike painting alone in her studio apartment.

She started up her computer and got to work on design samples. She was engrossed in her project when
her co-worker Brian sat down at his desk next to hers.

“I slept three hours last night,” he said flatly. “When they want to interrogate suspected terrorists, they should make them room with a newborn. I’d confess any secret right now for one full night of sleep.”

“Your wife’s the one getting up to breastfeed,” Emma reminded him.

“I know. She’s a zombie. I feel a little guilty when I come here because there’s no one crying every twenty minutes, and she has to listen to it around the clock.”

“It’ll pass,” Emma said.

“Yeah. Her Mom’s coming tomorrow for a few days. We’re crazy about Caroline, we just need some sleep.” He rubbed his eyes and reached for his giant mug of coffee.

Emma was peering at the computer screen, testing color samples, when her phone signaled a text message. She looked down and smiled when she read the words from Layla.

My boss is such a douche. He just called me sugar.

Though she wanted to write back, Emma resisted the urge since Aaron was still close by, reviewing an ad campaign with the business manager. She smiled, knowing her sister would be blown away when she heard who Emma had run into that morning.

Chapter 2

Cole tossed his sweaty t-shirt onto the kitchen table, unloading the pockets of his running shorts next to it. The cord of his headphones w
as tangled into a knot and he’d sweated through the scrap of paper with the number of the blonde he’d met while running along the lake.

It was sweltering outside, but he’d needed to run
before heading home after being cooped in his office researching all day. He scanned the sparse contents of his refrigerator, wondering how long it took for Chinese takeout to become inedible.

He was so hungry he didn’t think about
it for long, and he pressed the flashing light on his answering machine before flopping into a chair in the living room to eat.

“Cole, it’s Mom. How are you? We haven’t seen you in so long. It’s been more than a month. I know you’re busy, but we’d really like to see you. We’r
e having dinner at the Carsons’ house this weekend, and Eliza said you’re always welcome. They’d like to see you--”

The message cut off as he picked up the phone to call his Mom back.

“Cole!” Her enthusiasm brought on a wave of guilt. He hadn’t spent much time with his parents since moving back to the city.

“Hey, Mom. How are you?”

“Pretty good. How’s work?”

“It’s busy, but I like it,” he said. “Sorry I haven’t been over. I’l
l come to dinner at the Carsons’ this weekend. Who else is coming?”

“Oh, just Shawn and Eliza and the girls.
Layla will be there. I’m so glad you’ll come. It’s Saturday night at six.”

“
What’ve you and Dad been up to?”

“We just got back from Indianapolis,” she said, sounding weary. “It was a really hard trip. Things have gotten worse. I just don’t know--”

“Mom, I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”

“Okay.”

He sighed and hung up, another wave of guilt punching him in the gut. He hated cutting his Mom off, but it was hard to hear his parents talk about their trips to Indianapolis. It never failed to drag him down and remind him how out of control everything had been in high school.

He
switched the channel to ESPN in search of baseball highlights, his mind wandering to the dinner he’d be going to Saturday. He hadn’t seen Layla Carson for years, but he’d heard she was working at a downtown firm. And Emma …

He wanted
to see her again. Her smile and the light fragrance of her hair he’d inhaled when they collided had stayed with him. She was off limits, as the younger daughter of his parents’ longtime friends. He knew his Mom still harbored a hope that he and Layla would get together, and it would be awkward for him to show an interest in Emma instead. But it would still be fun to see if he could make her blush like she had when she’d run into him.

*****

The sound of her Dad’s loud chanting from the back yard made Emma run outside to join him.

“Go, go! Go hard!” he yelled
at the small radio playing inside the garage. He didn’t just love baseball, he specifically loved the Chicago Cubs, and Emma had always liked listening to games on the radio with him. There was something magical about only having the words of the announcers, and forming the images in her mind.

“What’s the score?” she asked, curling up in a chaise lounge.

“5-3. Bottom of the eighth. We need this run.”

Emma sank bac
k and listened, basking in the warmth of the sun and the sweet, spicy aroma of barbeque pork chops. She’d been up late painting the night before, and was about to drift off to sleep when she heard commotion inside the house.

She moved toward the
voices in the living room, hearing Layla’s excited chatter. When she saw Cole, Emma’s breath caught with excitement. She often saw Tom and Jenny Marlowe at her parents’ weekend dinners, but Cole hadn’t come with them since he was in high school.

“Emma,” he said warmly, crossing the room to embrace her. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too,” she said, her mind spinning from the feel of his body and his warm, clean scent. Neither of them mentioned running into each other a few days ago, and the moment passed. Emma pulled away self-consciously, not wanting to let go of him.

“Cole, you’re so handsome and grown up!” Emma’
s mother gushed as she offered him a bottled beer.

“Thanks, Mrs. Carson,” he said, grinning boyishly
and accepting it.

“You all sit and catch up while I finish up dinner. It’s almost ready,” she said.

Emma took a seat in a recliner and Cole sat down on the adjacent couch. Layla was on his heels, sitting right next to him while their parents all wandered toward the kitchen.

“So how’s Murphy and Kline?” Layla asked. “Are you billing 200 hours a week?”

“Pretty close.” Cole laughed. Emma’s eyes roamed over his face and the arm muscles that strained the sleeves of his worn t-shirt. As Layla laughed at something he said, she grabbed his thigh, and Emma had the familiar sensation of being invisible in her sister’s presence – at least when men were involved.

T
hey talked about the work of being a new attorney, and Emma got up and wandered back out to the deck to listen to the game with her Dad.

“All tied up!” he cried with excitement as she stepped out the door. But it wasn’t enough, and they listened with disappointment to the end of t
he game just as her Dad was taking the pork chops off the grill.

Emma stopped by the kitchen and grabbed
a pitcher of lemonade, sitting it on the dining room table and taking the last open seat. Layla was chattering next to Cole, and Emma met his eyes across the table. They were warm and playful, but the seductive sensation she was feeling had to be her own wishful thinking. Just knowing he was looking at her made her cheeks warm, and she looked down self-consciously.

“My firm has box seats at Wrigley,” Layla said to Cole. “We should go sometime.”

“You haven’t even taken your old man to a game in those seats yet!” their father protested.

“We can go anytime, Daddy. Let’s go this week if you want to.”

“Their pitching hasn’t been worth watching lately,” Cole’s father grumbled.

Emma listened to the conversation with half an ear, mostly focused on the way Cole’s intense gaze was making her feel hot all over. He almost looked amused, and she forced herself to look away,
sure he was aware of his effect on her.

After d
inner, she stole a long glance at his defined back and shoulders while he helped her Mom wash the dishes. Even 50-year-old Eliza Carson giggled like a schoolgirl when he grinned at her. When he said his goodbyes, his final look at Emma made her skin tingle. She crossed her arms over her chest, praying he hadn’t seen her nipples harden. What was it with him, anyway?

She wondered for mos
t of the ride back to her apartment with Layla, as her sister went on and on about how well he would fit into her plan. Emma listened, lamenting the idea of Cole Marlowe becoming her brother-in-law.

“I think I’d do ‘Layla Carson-Marlowe’,” Layla said thoughtfully. “I like the sound of that.”

I hate the sound of it
, Emma thought.
But what Layla wants, she gets, so maybe I’d better learn to like it.

*****

There were 17 different versions of a logo for a startup company whose campaign Emma was working on. The company’s name, Mojo, was clean and simple
in all of them, but there were different design elements to each one.

She backed away from the samples, scrunching her eyes to see which one stood out the most. She sighed, frustrated. It was hard to choose just one sometimes, but ultimately it would be the client’s decision anyway.

“Stop obsessing,” Brian said from his desk. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry. I just can’t decide if these are ready.”

“They’re good. Don’t worry about it. What’s with the anxiety, anyway? You’re usually cool and collected.”

“Oh, I guess it’s this guy I’ve run into a couple times,” Emma said. She didn’t elaborate, and Brian glared at her as he waited.

“The highlight of last night for me was discussing Caroline’s yellow poop with Julie,” he said. “If you have something interesting to say, please do.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s interesting … just this guy who used to be my neighbor who I had a huge crush on. I haven’t seen him in years, and I ran into him the other day.
Then he went to my parents’ house for dinner the other night, and I saw him again.”

“Bet he went just to see you,” Brian said.

“No, more likely my sister. They went out a couple times in high school.”

“Hmm,” Brian said skeptically.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. I don’t know you well enough to comment.”

“Come on, Brian. Just say it,” Emma insisted.

“Well, based on your phone conversations with her, your sister kind of sounds like a bitch.”

“She’s a hot bitch,” Emma corrected.

“A bitch is a bitch. I think that’s inscribed in hieroglyphics on a pyramid somewhere. And hotness does not make up for it. If he ran into you, and then he showed up for dinner, he wanted to see you.”

Emma considered Brian’s words. He’d become a friend over the months they’d been sitting next to each other at work, and she liked hearing a man’s take on things. But he had to be reading too much into this one. Cole wouldn’t have shown up just to see her.

“I’m going on a coffee run, want some?”
she asked.

Brian nodded wordlessly
, and Emma grabbed her phone as she left her desk. A waiting text message caught her attention, and she clamped her hand over her mouth when she read it.

Hey Em, it’s Cole. Are you free for lunch?

Her wide, goofy smile faded as she considered that he might want to discuss the best way to get together with Layla. She wrote back.

Sure. Hannigan’s, 12:30?

So she would get to see him again, in just a couple hours. Emma eyed her outfit, glad she’d worn a dress. Her legs were toned from hours of walking in the city, the one upside to not having a car.

Though she was
prepared for the conversation to be about her sister, she couldn’t help harboring a secret hope that Cole actually wanted to see her. It was too good to be true, but just the possibility made her feel light and hopeful.

*****

Cole tapped his foot under the table, taking a deep breath. Why was he so nervous?

Because Emma
Carson knocked me on my ass Saturday
.
God, she’s grown up.

His attraction to her at the coffee shop hadn’t been a fluke.
The shy, awkward girl with big glasses was now stunningly beautiful. He had never really noticed her large, brownish gold eyes until seeing her without glasses. And her long, lithe body had left a lasting impression. It wasn’t just her looks, but the air of confidence and sensuality she now possessed, that left him unable to stop thinking about her.

Emma had always seemed to live in Layl
a’s shadow. Her older sister was spunky, smart and gorgeous. Cole had even taken her out a couple times in high school. When he’d been at their house with his parents or to mow the grass, anytime he’d tried to talk to Emma, she’d flushed and stammered and fled as quickly as possible. He’d figured she was uncomfortable about a boy three years older than her trying to make small talk with her.

When he’d heard she was going to college in Paris, Co
le had admired her for it. Moving to the other side of the world was a gutsy move for an 18-year-old. He figured she wanted to escape the stigma of being Layla’s little sister. After a quick stop at her high school graduation party with his parents, he hadn’t thought about her. He’d been 21 then, living the life of a carefree college student.

Life wasn’
t so carefree anymore. He’d been working his ass off at Murphy and Kline for the past three months. His days started at eight and usually ended 13 hours later. Sometimes they were even longer. The junior attorneys in the firm had to bill obnoxious hours, but he liked the work.

His work schedule left little
time for a social life, but Cole was adjusting. He’d been with one woman or another throughout law school, and it was nice to have some space for a change. There was a paralegal at his firm, Jen, who made it clear she was available for no strings sex anytime he wanted. In the midst of a long sexual dry spell, he’d considered it a couple times, but was leery of any involvement with a co-worker. Maybe the dry spell was why just thinking of Emma left him shifting uncomfortably that morning as he got hard sitting at his desk.

He had
the same sensation when she walked into the restaurant. Her long, silky dark hair hung over one of her shoulders, emphasizing the arch of her graceful neck. Her sleeveless dark turquoise dress was just short enough to allow a view of her long, lean legs.