What The Heart Knows (25 page)

There
was a long moment of absolute stunned silence before Emily threw back
her head back and laughed. She couldn't even begin to picture that.
Not that he wasn't good looking enough. The man was a god. But... but
he was stubborn and hot tempered and never knew when to shut the hell
up. She couldn't imagine him standing in front of a camera for hours
and hours, taking directions about which way to put his head and
feet. That was not the kind of man Dane was.

Dane
was action. And sex appeal. And rough hatefucking. And explosive
arguments that you stood no chance against if you were going to
approach it with logic and reason.

“Oh
my god,” she said, pushing her glass forward as he drained his.
“Where can I find these pictures? I need to have them blown up
and posted all over town. For your next birthday. And every one after
that.”

“You'll
never find them baby,” he said, a strange look in his eyes that
she swore she was going to get to the bottom of one day. “But
anyway. Mo is going to let me buy in. He's getting old. He wants to
know this place will go on after him. He's given me the go-ahead for
some redecorating.”

“Good
for you,” Emily said, tilting her head to look at him,
impressed. He had never been a man of much ambition. He liked his job
dishing out liquor, breaking up fights, hitting on pretty patrons. He
never seemed to want anything more than that for himself. “That's
really good news.”

“Yeah,”
he agreed, playing it down. “And I'll be turning that awful
storage room above here into an apartment. I should be out of the inn
by February.”

“That's
awesome. I'm really happy for you.”

“Thanks,”
Dane said, pouring them each another glass, not giving her a lemon
this time. In his opinion, chasers were for the first round and for
weaklings or lightweights. Liquor was meant to be tasted. “Now...
speaking of happiness, Miss. Ray of Sunshine,” he said,
dropping his head to look her in the eye on her level. “what
the fuck is your problem?”

“Aren't
you sweet?” she asked, smiling.

“Sweet
annoys you,” he countered. “you've always preferred
honesty. And you're honestly being a shrew. We need to get to the
bottom of it before you have no friends left in this town.”

Emily
tapped her glass and watched as he poured more gin into it. The cheap
stuff. It was a habit they had since he had started buying her cheap
bottles of liquor when she was still in high school, sitting out at
the lake and getting completely wasted. Dane actually had a taste for
expensive whiskey and she had long since started preferring mid-shelf
tequila drinks. But there was something about cheap gin that brought
back pleasant memories for them. “It's complicated.”

“It's
about the new boss,” Dane countered, still looking sober as a
judge as she started to feel her head get a little fuzzy. Numb was
going to work its way hard and fast on her that night and she was
glad
for it.

“Yeah,”
she admitted.

“So
what? You two fucked a couple times and now you're smitten? That's so
not like you, Red.”

“I'm
not smitten,” she objected, hearing the defensiveness in her
tone and knowing that they both knew it was a lie. “Alright
fine. I guess I am.”

“So
what are you gonna do about it?”

“What
do you mean what am I gonna do about it? There's nothing to be done.
He's gone. He's out there bagging a new girl every night. He isn't
sitting around thinking about me.”

“Red,
take this from someone who has had the pleasure of getting sweaty
with you,” he said, putting a hand over hers on the bar top.
“it's not possible to sit around and not think about you.”

“Yeah
okay,” Emily said, sipping at her drink more slowly.

“I'm
serious. You're a piece of work. You're impossible with your smart
mouth and your stubbornness and...”

“Is
this supposed to be a pep talk?” Emily grumbled.

“Wait
for it,” Dane laughed. “You are all those things, but the
challenge is half the fun. You are so different. You're like...”

“A
rose in a field full of daisies?” Emily teased, enjoying Dane
trying to express himself.

“Don't
push it,” Dane rolled his eyes. “You're like a riddle.
And guys get fucking obsessed with trying to figure you out. And,”
he said, smirking. “you're a phenomenal lay.”

“Oh,
gee, thanks,” Emily snorted.

“I'm
serious. Your blowjobs can make a man suddenly speak another
language.”

“Shut
up,” Emily said, glancing over at the other bartender and the
man sitting at the end of the bar, pretending not to be listening.

“You
didn't play that card, did you? Woman,” Dane said, looking at
her like she was an idiot. “that is the deal sealer. You should
start with that shit. Just say your hi hellos and drop to your
knees.”

“I
am not going to make a guy fall in love with me by sucking his dick,”
she said, slapping a hand to her mouth as soon as the words were out.

“Fall
in love with?” Dane asked, putting the gin back on the bar and
grabbing the tequila. “Jesus,” he said, filling shot
glasses. “you need something with more burn than gin. Bottoms
up,” he said, clinking his glass with hers. Emily sputtered,
reaching for a lime only to have Dane slap her hand away. “Get
the fuck out of here with that fruit. I'm gone for six months and you
forget how to drink?” he asked, refilling the shot glasses.
“So... love?”

“I
don't love him,” she said, running her tongue over the roof of
her mouth, gauging it's numbness and, therefore, her drunkenness. “I
don't,” she added, taking in Dane's disbelieving glare. “I
barely know him. There was just... I don't know. There was something
there, you know? Like... I don't know. There was this connection.
This... feeling occasionally.”

“I'm
listening,” Dane said, waiting for her to continue.

“I
don't know. Like the second time we,” he glanced down the bar
and lowered her voice. “had sex. Just like the whole time was
this weird, otherworldly sensation. Like... my body recognized his or
something. It sounds stupid.”

“It
doesn't sound stupid,” Dane said, straightening. “wishy
washy as hell, but not stupid.” He slipped their rocks glasses
into the sink underneath the bar. “So what is going on now?
He's gone. I'm assuming that is, at least in part, because he thinks
you're riding my pony.”

Emily
laughed. “Yeah, thanks for that by the way. You could have
tried to explain who you were, you know. But anyway, yeah. He's gone.
Back to EM Corp. Sending me snippy emails.”

“Well
that's something.”

“How
is that something?”

“Because
men aren't like women. You all are crazy. Even when you would never,
ever take a guy back, you talk shit and stalk them online. It's weird
and obsessive. But that's beside the point. The
point
is men don't do that shit. Not when we are done with you. True, you
might be a story we tell buddies over beers some day. But we aren't
going out of our way to screw with your lives. We just don't care
enough anymore to do that. So if he's doing that, he is still
invested.”

“Yeah
well he's also invested in...”

“Sticking
his cock into as many snatches as possible?” Dane finished.
“Can you blame him? He wants you. He cant have you. He's horny
as hell because of that. He can't be expected to act like a saint.
He's going to try to see if he can forget about you... with a pussy
picnic.”

“Wow,
Dane. You're so eloquent. You're making my knees weak,” she
said, drawling her words out as sarcastically as she could manage.

“Oh,
yeah,” Dane chuckled. “your poor virgin ears.”

“So
what now, then? He's hours and hours away. I am not just going to be
running into him when I go out to get milk. And I cant show up there.
That would be creepy.”

“Yeah
that is problematic,” Dane allowed. “I mean, he's your
boss though. Create some situation that he needs to show up to deal
with.”

“He'd
probably just tell me to deal with it. He seems to really enjoy
playing the boss card lately.”

“Hmm...”
Dane said, grabbing a rag and wiping the surface of the bar.

“Dane
Joseph Broderick,” Maude's voice called from the doorway.
Behind her, the light streamed in making her resemble some kind of
higher power. Her voice sounded angry.

Dane
had the good sense to look penitent and boyish. “Mama Maude,”
he said, his tone taking on the sickeningly sweet charm she had heard
him use on countless unsuspecting women before.

“Oh,
no, boy,” Maude said, slamming the door and walking against the
floor toward them. “Nope. That don't work on me. I've gotten
puppy eyes and sweet words from every good lookin' boy in this town.
I ought to drag you out here and box your ears for taking off like
that. I called your Mama down in Florida and she didn't know where
you took off to either.”

Emily
took the shot Dane had poured as soon as Maude closed the door. “How
are you just finding out he's here now?” Emily asked. “He's
been here like two weeks.”

“I
was out in New York City seeing a gentlemen friend of mine,”
she told them, lifting her chin. “What? You thought I didn't
have a man in my life? I got men in my life. Plenty of them.”

Emily
scrunched her face up at the idea. Mother figures weren't allowed to
talk about their sex lives. That was supposed to be some kind of
rule.

“But
don't try to get me off subject. You,” she said, pointing a
finger at him. “you are in big trouble. I am telling everyone
about that underwear ad you did in California.”

“Underwear?”
Emily asked, her face looking something like a child's on Christmas
morning. “It was an underwear ad?”

“You,”
Maude said, looking at Emily like she just realized she was there.
“What are you still doing here?”

“I'm...
having a drink with Dane?” Emily half-asked, half-declared.

“I
had a dream last night,” she said, looking at Emily with
knowing eyes. “About a baby fish swimming to it's parents.”

Dane
quirked up an eyebrow. “What the fuck is this Finding Nemo
gibberish?”

Fish.
Emily fought through her alcohol haze. A fish meant fertility.
Babies. A fish swimming to it's parents...

“Hannah,”
she gasped and Maude nodded.

Emily
glanced at Dane, then back at Maude and then she was running out of
the bar, down the street, to the inn, grabbing for the phone and
dialing as quickly as her tingling fingertips would allow.

Twenty-One

Emily
wasn't sober enough to drive until early the next morning. She spent
the night throwing clothes into bags and telling Meggie and Dev they
were going to have to figure things out with the schedule. That she
needed to go see the squishy pink baby that Elliott and Hannah's love
had made.

The
drive was long, stifling in its solitude. Then the reality dawned on
her slowly. Elliott was the father. James was the uncle. James seemed
to be living in that area now. And the baby just left the hospital
that morning. So... chances were she was going to be running into
him.

She
looked down at her baggy sweater and ripped blue jeans with a curse.
She was going to need to stop somewhere and change. Because no matter
how silly and vain it was, she wanted to give him a good look at what
he was missing out on.

Her
navigation announced she was there and she parked her car with a
shake of her head. Of course he lived in a lavish house. She wasn't
sure what she had been expecting, but this house was unnecessarily
large for three people.

She
got out of her car, taking a good look at her reflection in the
window. She had eventually chosen to stop and buy a new outfit,
deciding everything she packed was too frumpy to work. The trip to
the store had been a frustrating experience, never really worrying
too much before about what to wear to make a man notice her.

In
the end she settled on a simple black sweater dress, tight with a
cowl neck. It was short on her long legs, falling at about mid-thigh
and she got opaque black tights to wear under it. She bought a pair
of black high heel boots with silver buckles on the side to complete
the ensemble, paid for it all, then went into the mall bathroom to
change. She let her hair down, applied mascara, and slid on a slick
natural shade of gloss to her lips.