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Twenty-One
Emilia keptthe Pinto idling outside Oak Tree Furniture, her fingers wrapped tight around the steering wheel, a distinct tremor working through her arms. She’d been here for ten minutes, but heck, the details of Blaine’s broken engagement—that she’d been at the center of it all—still shook her to the core.
So many years apart, so many missed opportunities, and now she had a choice: play dumb or do something to stop even more time going to waste.
She fought an urge to slam her palm onto the horn and hold it there, rage bubbling like hot lava in her belly. Rage at the people who’d held her back for so damn long. Those same people were the only ones to benefit from her misery. They’d kept her and Blaine apart, kept her from realizing so much…
Sarah and Aggie were right. By not exploring her feelings for Blaine, she was selling herself short. The time had come for things to change.
She sat a little taller, her sallow reflection bouncing off the rearview mirror, complete with wary eyes and a forehead creased in worry. She looked a mess, and still, that wasn’t enough to divert her from her plan.
She rushed out of her car and across the pavement, the wind whipping at her back as Oak Tree’s glass doors gave way far too easily at the push of her hand. She called out to Ally’s turned back. “Where’s Blaine? I need to talk to him.”
Ally wrenched her attention from the customer beside her, her cheerful grin wavering. “He’s out the back, but I’m not sure you'll want to talk to him, he’s a bit—”
“I’m a bit what?” Blaine held a solid gate across the showroom, his unreadable glower pinned on Emilia. He stopped beside Ally’s customer, glower softening by the smallest margin. “Leave now and I’ll give you twenty percent off next time you come in.”
The older man eyed Emilia, then gave Blaine an easy salute before turning for the exit, throwing Emilia a jubilant wink on his way past.
Blaine tore a twenty from his pocket and handed it to Ally. “Early lunch for you, and don’t come back for at least an hour.”
“But it’s only 10 a.m. and—”
Blaine must have given her a death stare to end all death stares because she dropped her shoulders and turned from him too. “Ah heck! Fine! I’ll go.”
Emilia watched Ally leave, half-wishing she could follow. Then she recalled every event that had brought her to this moment, and she forced her focus back to Blaine.
He stabbed his thumb over his shoulder, back toward wherever he’d just come from. “Let’s take this to the back. Whatever’s brought you here, I don’t want anyone else seeing this.”
Fair enough, the store had giant street-facing windows, and she’d already put him through a public display yesterday. His distrust here was warranted. Besides, whatever did happen next had the potential to be humiliating for her too, so maybe a private talk was a good idea.
She bowed her head, nodding, following Blaine away like an obedient puppy. They entered a room at the back, a workshop with a heavy-duty workbench in the center and stacks upon stacks of unpolished furniture edging the walls.
The thick and bitter scent of lacquer and sawdust punctuated the air, the polished concrete floors speckled with beige wood shavings. She’d sure as anything strayed far from her usual surroundings, and still, she waited for him to face her, her spine straight and words scraping past the dry prickliness in her throat. “I spoke to Sarah. I was wrong.”
He gave her what she wanted and spun around. Even with his full attention, he didn’t move or speak, just stood about six paces away, maintaining a peeved scowl.
She eyed the room, not fighting his cold reception since she kind of deserved it. Then again, he’d been the one to invite her back here, so was he really going to say nothing?
She took a small step forward, trying again. “I knew the second you walked away at Maynard’s I shouldn’t have gone behind your back. I know I should have come here sooner, but—”
“But what?” Nothing about his hard stare shifted. “You were a bit too drunk?”
Her jaw dropped a little, somewhat insulted.
“I was going to say I was stupid to involve other people and didn’t think you’d want to hear my apology, but sure, let’s go with drunk.” Her forehead strained as she held back her own scowl. “I want to sort out our differences.”
Again, she got nothing. No longer able to maintain direct eye contact, she settled her attention on his gray flannel shirt while the sound of his footfall drew nearer, causing her heart to thump.
“I think you missed a few things. What about how you kicked me out of your house and refused to let me explain? One moment, I’m your knight in shining armor, the next you’re treating me like some underhanded villain. It’s one thing to self-sabotage, but did you need to take me down with you? And despite what you say, you’re not stupid, Emilia. Impulsive, maybe, but not stupid. You knew it was wrong to drag Sarah into your little intervention.”
She inched back, her palms clamming with sweat. “So now you’re looking for a complete inventory of what I did wrong?”
“Oh yes.” He nodded, stepping forward again. To Emilia’s dismay, she found herself backed up against the workbench. “And I hope you also gave Sarah one hell of an apology, just like you’re about to give me. Knowing the troubles she’s been through, you can’t imagine how much I didn’t want to add to them.”
She pressed her lips together, pained to hear there might be even more to Sarah’s story, adding yet more fire to the hell she’d already created. “You’re not going to make this easy, are you?”
“Should I?” He raised a brow, his smoldering gaze swirling the contents of her stomach and sending her generally off-kilter.
