The Night Before Christian (11 page)

“As I was saying—”

“Why?” Christian said.
He could feel his grandmother shift toward him.

“Why, what?”

When she’d painted the
vivid picture of Emory’s deceit, he’d gotten the feeling she wasn’t telling him
everything. He opened his eyes and studied her. “Why would you wait all of this
time to tell me this? Why did you keep it from me, period? I deserved to know.”

“I kept it from you because
I knew how much it would hurt you.” She fumbled with the black leather gloves
draped across her lap. “If fifty thousand dollars was all it took to—” She
stopped abruptly. “It was money well spent. I’d do anything to protect you and
your brother. Back then, you thought you were so in love with the girl. I was
protecting you.”

“I was in love with
her.” He instantly regretted the roughness of his tone. Despite the
circumstances, he would never disrespect his grandmother. Calming, he said, “You
didn’t want to hurt me then. Does that mean you believe it’s okay to hurt me now?”

Her expression
hardened. “I
believed
I was doing you a favor. I’ve shown you the kind
of…
woman
—and I use the term loosely—you were dealing with. The kind of
woman
you abandoned a perfectly good mate for. Shouldn’t I get a thank you instead of
your unappreciative attitude?”

“Stop the car,”
Christian said, through clenched teeth. His door swung open before the vehicle
came to a complete stop.

“Where in heaven’s name
do you think you’re going?”

“I’ll walk. I need to
clear my head.” He slammed the door. The window lowered as the vehicle moved
alongside him.

“Christian St. Claire,
are you insane? We’re more than twenty miles from the manor. Do you plan to walk
the entire way? And through this neighborhood?”

“I really need to be
alone right now.”

“You’re sulking over that
woman? After everything I’ve told you? How pathetic. Drive!” she ordered the
driver, the window rising.

The car disappeared in the distance. Christian
came to a stop. His jaw tightened, and he pulled his gloved hands into tight
fists. A beat later, he released all the frustration he harbored through a
tortured sound that seemed to echo for miles.

Emory tried Christian’s
cell phone once more. The fifth time that day. She’d given him space and hadn’t
tried to contact him since the debacle three days ago. And of course, he hadn’t
reached out to her either.

When his voicemail
answered, she left another message. This one would be the last. “Christian,
it’s me again. Emory,” she said, as if he wouldn’t know or had forgotten her
already.

“I know you don’t
really want to hear from me. Evident by the unreturned calls. Please, give me
this one last thing and I won’t ask anything else of you. Just give me the
opportunity to talk to you face-to-face. The opportunity to explain. Please. I
deserve that much.”

She hated sounding so
desperate, but in a way, she was. She could respect him wanting nothing more to
do with her, but she wouldn’t allow him to believe money had been the reason
she’d walked away. And she was sure his grandmother had painted her as greedy
and loveless. Neither was true.

“I’ll be home after
six. I hope you come. I…” She debated her next words. “I love you, Christian. I
always have.”

The second she ended
the call her phone rang. When her mother’s name scrolled across the screen, she
grew concerned. “Hello?”

“Emory?”

“Mom, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sweetie. I
had Ifede dial you. You couldn’t sleep last night. I just wanted to check on
you.”

Clearly, her mother was
having one of her good days. She’d referred to Ifede by her actual name and not
that pretty girl with the bright eyes
. “I’m sorry if I kept you awake
last night, Mom.”

She’d spent the night
with her mother. Sleep had evaded her, so she’d spent most of the night
tossing, turning, and pacing the floor. She contributed it to the fact that she
wasn’t in her own bed but knew the real reason.
Christian
.

“You didn’t keep me
awake. I’m a night owl. You know that.”

They both laughed.

Her mother continued, “You
know what that means, don’t you? When you can’t fall asleep at night.”

That I have entirely
too much on my mind
.

“It means you were
awake in someone’s else’s dreams.”

She doubted that to be
the reason. “I’m glad you called, Mom. I always love hearing your voice.”

“I need to tell you
something else,” her mother said.

“Okay.” There was a
pause that worried her. “Mom?”

“Trust God through this
storm, baby. He’ll never let you down.”

Emory’s eyes filled
with tears. Even going through her own battle, her mother still found the
strength to encourage and support others. “Thank you. I really needed to hear
that.”

“I know you did,
sweetie. I’m your mother. I know these things.”

With her voice cracking
with emotion, Emory said, “Well, do you know how much I love you?”

“Oh, yes, I do. I know
it by the way you care for me. In love, actions speak so much louder than
words. Know that I love you, too. We’ll talk later.”

Emory wiped at her eyes
as she pulled the phone away from her ear. The shop door chimed and, for an
instant, she got excited from the notion it could be Christian. But it was only
Jordyn.

Emory sighed. “
Oh
.
It’s just you.”

Jordyn rested her hand
on her hip. “Well, great to see you, too, sis.”

“A small part of me
hoped you were Christian.” A much larger part than she was willing to reveal.
Maybe she should just let him move on with his life. Maybe this was fates way
of intervening, telling her she didn’t deserve to be happy. But why? She and
the universe had had their ups and down, but what in the hell had she done to
fate?

“Still nothing?” Jordyn
asked.

Emory shook her head.
“Still nothing.”

Jordyn rested a hip
against the metal table and folded her arms across her chest. “You have to see
it from his perspective, Em. He believes you chose money over him. He’s pissed
and upset. Once he comes to his senses, he’ll realize what the two of you share
is real.”

Shouldn’t she be the
one pissed? Shouldn’t she be the one upset? He’d walked away without even
looking back. She stilled. Hadn’t she done the same to him? Was this payback?
Emory sighed heavily.

Jordyn draped her arms
around Emory’s neck. “Don’t worry, he’ll come around.”

“He won’t even give me
the opportunity to explain. Don’t I at least deserve that much?”

“You could go to him,”
Jordyn said, apprehensively.

Emory’s shoulders
slumped. “I don’t know. He’s not taking my calls. Would he open the door if I
showed up at his place?”

Just then, the door
chimed again, drawing both their attentions.

“
Oh, it’s just you
,”
she and Jordyn said in unison to the parcel delivery man.

“And a Merry Christmas
to y’all, too.”

“Sorry, Irvin,” Emory
said. “You know I’m always happy to see you. It usually means a fresh flower
delivery. What woman doesn’t love receiving flowers? Even when she is a
florist.”

“No flowers this time,”
he said. “All I have is this. From…” He squinted at the writing. “Johnson,
Jones & Jones Law Office.”

Emory wrinkled her
brows. “A law office?” A bad feeling rushed over her. Was one of her creditors
suing her? After signing the device he offered, she accepted the large
envelope. Tearing into the package, she removed the documents inside and read them
carefully to herself.

“What is it?” Jordyn
asked, glancing over Emory’s shoulder.

Emory thumbed to the
second page. “It’s…” The air in the room thickened, and she found it difficult
to breath. She slapped her hand over her mouth, steadied herself on the edge of
the table and passed the pages to Jordyn. Allowing her hand to fall, she said, “Why
would he do this?”

Jordyn scanned the documents,
then glanced up at her, a wide smile curling her lips. “Because he loves you,
Em. This man loves you.”

Their mother’s words echoed
in Emory’s head.
In love
,
actions speak louder than words
. She reclaimed
the pages—one a deed to her shop, the other the deed to her mother’s house—and
scanned them again. “They’re dated over a week ago,” she said. “Before Christian
and I even—” She stopped mid-thought.

“
Screwed
?”
Jordyn said with a smirk.

“Watch your mouth.” Emory
removed her apron. “Will you watch the shop for an hour?”

“Of course I will.”
Jordyn shooed her away. “Go. Get your man. Don’t forget your phone. I’m going
to need you to call me with details.”

Emory retrieved her cell
phone from Jordyn. “Thanks.” It rang before she could slide it into her purse.
She considered allowing the call to roll into voicemail, but a call from Nadia
Chandler—one of North Carolina’s premiere wedding planners—usually meant lucrative
business. Hitting the speaker icon, she placed the phone on the table and slid
into her coat. “Hi, Nadia.”

“Emory, please don’t
strangle me, but remember the message I left you about the St.
Claire/Manchester wedding?”

Yes, she remembered.
She’d been in New York with the ex-groom at the time. “Yes.”

“Ignore it. The wedding
is back on. This couple is going to be the death of me.”

The air seized in
Emory’s lungs, and she pushed her lids together to stop the room from spinning.
Her stomach cramped and bile burned her throat. She found the corner of the
table just in time to stabilize herself. But a second later, her legs turned to
jelly and she crumbled to the floor.

***

If the banging on Christian’s
front door was any indication, his door would fly off the hinges soon. What in
the hell was going on? And who the hell was hammering on his door like the
police?

When he flung the door
open—using less caution than he should have—Jordyn barreled past him, waving a
pair of shears identical to the ones he’d used at Emory’s shop. “Jordyn, what
the hell?”

She pointed the tip of
the blades at him. “Do you remember what I said I’d do to you if you didn’t
stop toying with my sister’s heart?”

He instinctively
shielded his crotch. “I’m going to return her calls. I just need—”

“When? After your
honeymoon?”

Christian’s head
snapped back in surprise. “Honeymoon?”

“You swore to me that
you loved my sister more than anything on this earth. You’re a fucking liar,
and I’m going to castrate you. Let’s see how you manage on your wedding night
without a dick.”

When she lunged for
him, he grabbed her and held her in a reversed bear hug. Wrangling the shears
from her, he said, “First, watch your mouth,” because that’s what Emory would
have said. “Second, what in the hell are you talking about?”

Jordyn squirmed to free
herself. “Don’t play dumb with me, Christian St. Claire. Your wedding planner
called. She said the wedding is back on.” She squirmed more. “Let…me…go.”

The news struck him
like an iron fist to his stomach. He knew sure as hell he hadn’t changed his
mind about marrying Yasmin and vice-versa. So what—?
Gran
. The woman had
definitely overstepped this time. “I’m not getting married, Jordyn. And I
didn’t lie to you. I do love your sister. With all my heart.”

Jordyn stomped on his
foot with the pointy-toed shoes she wore. He grunted but held firm to the grip
he had on her.

“If you don’t let me go
right now...”

“Not until you calm
down and listen.”

“Like you listened to
my sister when she tried to tell you your grandmother is a spawn of the devil?”

Before he could
respond, she snaked a hand free, reached behind her, and placed his balls in a kung-fu
grip. “
Oh, Sweet Jesus
,” he said in a tone that would be the envy of any
opera singer.

When he was ten, he’d
been hit in the head by a foul baseball. The pain didn’t compare to the
agonizing hurt he experienced now. His knees buckled, crumbling him to the
floor in a fetal position. He swore he’d lost consciousness on his way down. Stars
and birds floated around him. Through clenched teeth, he said, “I’m…not...
getting
married
.”

Jordyn hovered over him,
showing little regard for his agony. “Then why did your wedding planner call
the shop and say you were, huh?”

He growled at her. “I
don’t know, but I’m sure my grandmother had something to do with it.”

“Your grandmother?”

“Yes.”

Jordyn seemed to
soften, as if his explanation made sense. She knelt beside him. “Can…I get you
some ice or something?” She flashed a nervous smile, morphing back to the
pleasant person she usually was.

“I swear to God, if I
didn’t love your sister so much, I’d have you arrested.”

“Wouldn’t that be
overkill?”

“Get out.”

“I’m sorry, Christian.
I snapped. Haven’t you seen that show?”

“
Get
…
out
.”

“You won’t mention this
to Emory, will you?”

“Get out! Get out! Get
out!”

“Okay, okay. You don’t
have to be so dramatic.” She hurried to the door, but stopped shy of exiting.
“If it makes you feel any better, now I understand why my sister walked funny
when you guys returned from New York. You’re packing some heat.”

He hurled a remote
across the room.

“Bye, Christian. Love
you.”

As soon as he got the
feeling back in his legs, he was up and out the door. A short time later, he exploded
into his grandmother’s front door. He strayed from his normal routine—straight
to the kitchen to raid the fridge—and instead, moved through the house in
search of her. “Gran! Gran!”

Gran stood at the top
of the spiraling staircase. “Have you lost your mind? I haven’t seen or talked
to you in days. Now you come in screaming like a madman?”

Climbing the stairs, he
said, “Did you call the planner and tell her the wedding was back on?”

“Why, yes, I did,” she
said nonchalantly. “I figured that once you came to your senses, you’d realize
the mistake you’ve made.”

“Gran, I’ve never
disrespected you, and I won’t start now. But there will be no wedding. I love
Emory. Do you hear what I’m saying to you? I. Love. Emory,” he repeated. He
pounded his chest with a closed fist. “With everything within me. And you know
what else? I don’t care about the money she took. I love her beyond her faults.”

“You don’t care?”

“No.”

“Then that makes you a
damn fool.” She descended the stairs. “Love is overrated.”

“How can you say that?
What happened to you, Gran? What happened to the woman who used to waltz in the
rose garden with Grandfather? The woman who used to serenade him with love
songs? The woman who showed me what love looked like by the way she loved her
husband. What happened to the woman who would have celebrated my and Emory’s
love?”

When his grandmother
stopped in the middle of the hallway, he stood in front of her. “I love Emory,
and I’ll say it a thousand times if that’s what it takes for you to understand
that. Gran, one of the many reasons why I love her is because in some ways, she
reminds me of you.”

She scoffed. “And how
exactly is that?”

“She’s stubborn and full
of pride.” He ignored her scowl. “And she loves me. I don’t care what you want
me to believe. I know Emory loves me.”

“Really?” His
grandmother glanced away.

“If she’ll have me… If she’ll
forgive me… I’m going to be with her, Gran. I want Emory in my life. And honestly,
I don’t have a life without her.”

“You did have a life. A
wonderful life. With Yas—”

Exhausted, he said,
“Yasmin didn’t want to get married, either, Gran. We were trying to force
something not designed to fit. We were suffering. Emory freed us both.”

By the expression on
her face, something about his words shook her. Maybe she’d realized he wasn’t
backing down on this.