“Thank you,” Blair said as Emily handed over the full glass. “I was starting to wonder if I needed to go inside and check the closets for you.” She sent a dramatic look through the window.
Emily grinned. “His name is Patrick Owens.”
Blair perked up. “Oh. Isn’t that the guy from the article in the magazine?”
Emily nodded. “I knew right away after he said it.”
Blair’s eyebrows bounced. “Oh, now I want to go back and buy it. I wonder how he ended up as the musician’s personal chef. Doesn’t he run a fancy restaurant or something?”
Emily shrugged. “Did the girl at the shop say he’s opening one?”
Blair eyed Sienna, but Sienna just shook her head.
“What did he say to you when you were in there?” Sienna asked from the water.
“He was in the navy,” Emily replied.
Sienna fanned out her arms and pushed herself over to the edge of the pool. She placed her elbows on the pavement and set her chin on her forearms. “What else did he say?”
“That was it.”
Blair rattled the ice around in her lemonade. “It took all that time just to find out that little bit of information? He’s a ball of fun.”
“He’s working,” Emily said. “I didn’t want to bother him too much.”
She placed her novel on the table. A warm, salty gust of air blew, sending Sienna’s cover-up to the pavement. Emily put it back on the chair, and they settled into a moment of quiet. Blairtook a sip from her glass, set it beside her, then leaned back and closed her eyes. Sienna pushed away from the edge and did another lap around the pool. But they didn’t have peace for long before Patrick stuck his head out the door.
“Someone’s phone is ringing off the hook upstairs. Just wanted to let you know.”
“I’ll check.” Emily went into the house just in time to hear the phone ring one final time. She went upstairs and into her room, where her phone lay, lit up, on her bed.
Three missed calls from Will.
Reality slithered through her.What does he want?With a deep breath, she dialed his number and put the phone to her ear.
“The real estate agent needs your house key so she can put it in the front-door lockbox,” Will said without a hello.
Emily tensed at the sound of his voice. It had a quality she hadn’t heard before, except when she’d called him about the breakup. “I put it under the mat.”
“What about the extra one? We also need one for the real estate office so she can have it for inspections, staging, and any emergencies.”
“Well, I’m not in the state, and I have it with me so I can get back in to get my boxes when I get home.”
“Can you overnight it?”
She sucked in another deep breath. “Give heryourkey.”
“I need mine to work on packing and organizing all my stuff in the garage. I’d already brought all my tools and things over, remember?”
A pinch took hold of her shoulder. “That’syourproblem,” she clipped instead.
“I know you’re still furious with me, but you don’t need to be difficult.”
She gritted her teeth. “I’mbeing difficult? You called me on my vacation to ask me to solve your problems. Problems you’vebrought on entirely by yourself. Use your own key.” She hung up, silenced the phone, and threw it back on the bed.
Emily stood there, staring at the dark screen, her lip quivering, tears brimming. She’d acted the way he deserved, but she didn’t want any of it. She wanted her happy life back. Her worries about selling the house, canceling the wedding, and figuring out the rest of her life flooded her, spreading through her limbs in a warm, thick panic. She focused on her breathing to get herself together enough to rejoin her friends, then went into the bathroom and checked her face. From the outside, no one could tell that her heart was shattered. She washed her hands and patted her cheeks with cool water.
When she came downstairs, Patrick glanced at her curiously.
