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I shrug. “Maybe he got drunk and fell asleep.”
“That’s what he said, but he should have waited until after we chatted, don’t you think?”
I don’t answer. It doesn’t matter what I think. I’ve known Emily Vaughn since I was ten. If she has her mind made up about something, it’s made.
“So you’re breaking up with him?” I ask her as I fold a onesie.
She runs her fingers through her jet black curls and shrugs. “I’m thinking about it. If he sends me flowers before the week is over, I might forgive him.”
“Hmm.”
“What about you?” She grabs a small pink shirt from the pile. “What did you do last night?”
“Sleep,” I answer.
Emily snorts in disapproval.
“Well, what was I supposed to do? You know it’s just me and my dad and Shanna. You know I have Shanna.”
She sighs. “At least tell me you had fun in New York.”
Meeting my ex? Yes, that was fun.
“I was there because of work, remember?” I remind her.
Emily rolls her eyes. “Surely you had some time to go to a nice cafe, chat with a nice guy?”
“No.”
“Or go to Times Square, listen to a performance and have a kiss stolen from you?”
“Doesn’t that usually happen at midnight?” I grab another onesie. “I was here by midnight.”
“Right.” She lets out another sigh. “You’re no fun. You know that?”
“Yes, and so do you, but you still hang out with me,” I point out.
Emily taps her fingers on the table. “Yes. I guess I do. I wonder why.”
I shrug. “Maybe because I make your life seem more interesting.”
She touches her chin. “Hmm.”
Or maybe because she needs me to save her ass sometimes. She’s an events organizer, and sometimes, especially when a hot new guy turns up on her radar, she forgets things or gets numbers wrong. Plus she’s always in need of new ideas and I have a surplus. It’s fine. She’s been saving my ass, too, if not my sanity.
Just then, Shanna bursts into a cry in her crib in the living room. My shoulders immediately tense, but Emily is closer to the door and leaves the room first.
“I’ll get her.”
She picks up Shanna, who stops crying as soon as Emily starts rubbing her back and rocking her back and forth. Good. She must have just had a nightmare, though I don’t know what bad dreams babies have.
I’m about to grab something else to fold but the doorbell rings.
“I’ll get that,” I offer since Emily already has a Shanna.
As I walk to the door, I wonder who it can be. Aside from Emily, I wasn’t expecting anyone to come calling on New Year’s Day. Did my dad leave his keys? But I didn’t hear him pull into the driveway. Or did something happen to him?
I walk faster at that last fearful thought. As soon as I open the door and don’t see a cop, I feel a wave of relief. That relief evaporates, though, when I realize who is at the door.
Dax Bender. Holy shit.
“Hello, Jenna,” he greets me like he’s an old friend who has the right to show up on my doorstep, like he’s been to my house before. “Happy New Year.”
I frown. “What are you doing here? Did you follow me last night?”
“No. I had someone track you down, though.”
“Like a missing dog.” I fold my arms over my chest. “Why? I don’t belong to you anymore.”
“But you used to,” Dax says. “And we have unfinished business.”
“No. You finished whatever business we had. Don’t you remember?”
He sighs. “Jenna, I want to talk.”
“Really? From what I recall, you weren’t in the habit of talking about the past or about important things.”
He grins. “Ah. You remember me so well.”
Shit. He’s twisting my words. Then again, he was always the one person I knew who was smarter than I was. And the fact that he looks smoking hot in that grey sweater and those dark jeans he’s wearing isn’t helping my mental acuity.
“We already talked, Dax,” I tell him.
“That wasn’t a conversation,” he argues. “That was just me showing up and you running away.”
“I wasn’t – ”
“Who’s this?” Emily asks as she joins the discussion.
I roll my eyes. Great. I was hoping Dax would leave before Emily realized he was here, considering I never told her about him, but I guess it’s too late for that now. Well, Emily always did have a nose for intriguing things. Makes me wonder why she didn’t become a journalist.
“Emily, meet Dax,” I introduce grudgingly. “Dax, Emily.”
“Well, hi, Dax.” Emily offers him her hand while nudging my arm. She throws me a meaningful glance before turning her gaze towards Dax. “And how do you know Jenna?”
“She and I – ”
“Went to college together,” I finish the sentence for Dax before giving him my own meaningful glance.
That’s not a lie. Just not the entire truth.
