Only With You Page 8

  "No, Emma." Knight stood. "You don't think. You only want and then you get, consequences be damned. You know what I liked most about you, Emma? Even with everything else, you weren't a mean girl. At least I didn't think so." He balled up his napkin, dropped it on his tray, and picked up the tray forcefully and walked away.

  Desperation seized her—to pull him back, to make him stay. Emma felt a dozen defenses leap to her lips but she couldn't say any of them because they weren't true. She'd felt slighted. She'd wanted to lash back. But instead of taking out her anger on Josh, however misplaced, she'd directed it at some poor innocent girl who had never done anything to hurt her.

  Which made her exactly the kind of girl she didn't like: one who had to be mean to other people to feel better about herself.

  She sat at the booth alone, her arms shaking, that awful darkness in her stomach feeling like it was going to crawl up her throat. She couldn't stand Knight being out there, disappointed in her. Maybe even hating her.

  Emma ran out after her friends, but she only found Anne standing by her sports car.

  "They took her home," Anne said. "She was…"

  "Angry?"

  "Something like that." Anne bit her lip and looked down at her feet.

  "Say it," Emma prompted. "I just got done telling you that you could say whatever you wanted to me."

  "Why were you so mean to her? Do you know her or something?"

  "No. I don't know what got into me. I was being a jerk," Emma admitted. "Josh had just got done telling me why he wasn't interested in you. Then he brings her around. I thought he was being a hypocrite."

  "Oh, no, Emma." Anne groaned. "Please tell me you weren't mean to her for me."

  Emma felt even worse as Anne covered her face in her hands. "None of this is your fault or has anything to do with you. It's all me. I don't know what's wrong with me sometimes. I wanted to help. All I want to do is help."

  The hurt slid slowly off Anne's face, but Emma still sensed the wariness in her eyes. The fun all gone from the evening, they got in the car so Emma could drive them home. She tried to think of something to say that would restore Anne's trust in her. She tried to think of something to say to the boys so they realized how awful she felt about being mean. But whatever words she came up with just twisted in her stomach.

  By the time they reached the house, Anne begged off to bed, saying she was tired. The pool house lights were already off.

  Emma went upstairs alone. She fingered the buttons on her cell phone. It was late on the East Coast, but she couldn't go to bed with all this nervous energy running through her.

  She called her mom, hoping she'd answer. Her mother was always a source of positivity. Always upbeat. She'd have Emma back to feeling right in no time.

  Gail Greene answered her phone the way she always did: eager and full of energy. "Emma, darling, how is your weekend?"

  Emma didn't want to answer. She couldn't without betraying how awful she felt. "How was the symphony gala?" she asked instead.

  "Outstanding. Two thousand full plates. Record-setting donations. The mayor attended, of course. Him, we were expecting, but the first lady also put in an appearance. She was stunning. Wearing a red Alexander Wang. Did you see the pictures?"

  "Not yet."

  "Everyone misses you. I wish you were here, too." She could hear her mom pouting over the phone. "Are you sure you don't want to fly in for the day? I could have a ticket waiting for you at the airport."

  Emma heard a whimper—her mom's new wheat terrier. She imagined her mother reclining on a chaise, ankles crossed so her spiked heels dangled over the edge, as she stroked her beloved dog's ears.

  "I'm not finished here, Mom. The Oceanside Animal Shelter adoption event is tomorrow, and we spent all day preparing for it."

  "Didn't we donate to them? I'm sure they could hire someone else."

  "But then they wouldn't have money for doctors and staff and rescues," Emma said patiently. "Besides, I'm having fun. I organized their files in no time. They weren't even cross-referencing their donor records. But I got those all up-to-date."

  "That's such a small thing, Emma. We could buy them a new record-keeping software system if that would help. Should we? I'll have my assistant call them."

  Emma gritted her perfectly straight teeth. A no pressed against her lips. A selfish no. Because the shelter could use a record-keeping system beyond triplicate forms and clipboards. So what if it wounded her pride? So what if it vanquished her accomplishments and made her efforts entirely irrelevant? "I can find an app."

  "I'll have a professional look into it, Emma."

  "Thanks, Mom." Again, she heard the terrier's yips and her mother's charmed laughter.

  "Is there anything else to share, dear?"

  What else… She hadn't done anything worth mentioning recently. Nothing on par with single-handedly funding the New York City Symphony Orchestra for an entire year. "Not really."

  "Are your friends enjoying the house?"

  "Yeah, they're having a good time."

  "You should, too, dear. Forget the shelter. Just lie by the pool! No need to trouble yourself, really. We'll take care of it."

  Her parents were so thoughtful. They were always taking care of her and everyone around her. She saw how people looked at her mom and dad.

  With awe. With gratitude. With respect.

  And why not? Her parents built hospitals, saved refugees, and supported the arts. Health, life, culture. Such big things. Whereas all Emma had done today was insult a perfectly nice girl, destroy Anne's trust in her, mess up a matchmaking scheme, and… alienated Knight.

  Something had changed between them. He'd once been her best friend, her confidant, and now it seemed as if every twisted, dark feeling that flooded her body could be pinpointed as starting with him.

  Chapter Six

  Emma threw off her covers but couldn't muster rising for the day.

  She was never one to dawdle. Nearly every morning, Emma bolted up in bed, slipped her manicured toes into her favorite fabulous shoes, and was ready to go. She never understood how Ellie could stand to linger in bed so long. Unless Ellie was waking up to meet the surf, she could stay in bed for hours reading or chatting or counting fibers in her blanket. She could actually put her pillow over her face and fall back asleep.

  Now, Emma felt exactly the same way. She wanted to bury herself beneath her blankets and sleep until she could forget how she felt—like the day was already ruined, so there was no point in facing it. But there was a small menagerie of animals depending on her, not to mention the people she'd dragged to her home to help her, people who expected her to lead.

  She winced as she pushed to sitting and rubbed at her tired eyes, deliberately ignoring her mother's voice in her head that she would give herself wrinkles if she tugged at her delicate facial skin. Much like a zombie, she shuffled to her bathroom and groaned at her reflection in the mirror. Her blond curls were knotted in disarray. Her eyes, bloodshot. Her life? Worse.

  Her mother didn't think she had done anything useful. She'd failed at matchmaking Anne and Josh. And Knight— She flinched at the thought of him. Knight hated her.

  She had tried so hard yesterday and somehow ruined everything. How would today be any better? She imagined those furballs in their cages, eager to run around and play. Caesar with his floppy ears and alert tail. How Anne's grin had lit up the room. While Anne and Josh hadn't found love, Anne had certainly fallen in love with all the animals they'd helped.

  Emma had to stop feeling sorry for herself. She pulled a brush through her hair. She dotted moisturizer on her face and swiped lip balm over her mouth. Keeping in mind that they would be outdoors, Emma limited herself to a touch of powder foundation, eyebrow pencil, and blush. Nothing too fancy. She side-braided her hair and changed into skinny jeans and a soft, heather-gray asymmetrical hooded sweatshirt. The military had their armor, and she had her fashion sense.

  She couldn't sit in bed moaning all day. She had the
world to change, one small event at a time.

  She walked downstairs. Already she could hear rumblings in the kitchen: soft clangs and footsteps. Knight stood with the fridge door open, his back to her. He wore flannel pajama pants and nothing else. His bare back was broad and sleek. She dreaded him turning because she imagined that look of disappointment from yesterday might still be on his face, tilting his lips to a frown.

  He glanced over his shoulder. "Morning. You want something from the fridge?"

  She crossed the kitchen to the island and leaned over the counter, picking at her cuticles. What could she say to him to make things go back to how they used to be?

  Her throat rasped as she tried to speak, but nothing came out. She cleared it with a cough. "You're up early."

  "Josh and Rick are morning freaks. Josh wakes up before sunrise to run every morning, and I guess Rick is still on military-academy time so he joins in." Knight shut the fridge door, orange juice in hand, and turned. They stared at each other a moment, eyes locked over the island. "Back in a sec." He set down the carton of orange juice and shuffled off.

  Emma turned a circle in the kitchen, her intention straying from the cupboards to the pantry to the fridge, all out of sorts. His words still echoed in her mind: You know what I liked most about you, Emma? Even with everything else, you weren't a mean girl. At least I didn't think so.

  Had anyone else said such a thing to her, had she not just been terrible to Josh's friend, she would have defended herself. She was Emma Greene. She was practically the poster child for generosity. Now, however, she didn't know how to defend herself without feeling hollow. Didn't know how to talk to Knight the same way she always had.

  Emma poured two glasses of orange juice and returned the juice box to the fridge. That, at least, was a start. When Knight returned he was wearing a sweatshirt.

  "Cold," he mumbled, although Emma was certain her beach house had never seen a cold day in its life. He accepted a glass from her, and they both sipped in silence.

  "So," she said.

  "So." His fingers drummed the side of his juice glass.

  "I hate this."

  "Me, too."

  "We've never fought."

  "We fight all the time," he said.

  "This is different."

  He was silent. She ached for him to tell her nothing was different, but he didn't. Knight didn't lie to her. At least that was the same.

  "You're mad at me," Emma said. "I know I deserved it, but I can't take back what I did or how I felt when I did it."

  "I can't, either. I want to, Emma. I want to tell you that everything's okay and I didn't mean it. But I can't."

  She winced, a pinprick in her heart. She was determined to keep things positive. Did he have to make it so hard? She gave him a bright smile. "We can let things keep being weird, or we can set it aside because we need to focus on the adoption event. Let's stick to what's important."

  "This isn't important?"

  "You know what I mean." She went to the fridge and pulled out eggs and milk. "I need to make breakfast. Josh and Rick will be hungry when they get back from their run, and Anne will need to fuel for the energy she needs today."

  "Emma, we can't leave it at that."

  "Yes, we can." She threw another smile over her shoulder as she pulled out plates. "You're disappointed and mad. I get it. I understand." Her throat clogged so she coughed to clear it and cracked eggs into a bowl. "Do you want anything else to eat?"

  He tapped the juice glass against the counter as he watched her beat the eggs with a fork. "No, thanks. Do you need any help?"

  "Nope."

  "So that's it."

  "Yep, that's it."

  She beat the eggs harder. Her neck heated. She could feel him staring at her. She could sense him struggling with what to say to her, and for some reason, that was worse than him just yelling at her, fighting with her. Being honest with her, the way they always had been.

  "I'll set the table then." He moved around her to grab plates and forks. Their clinking seemed so loud and jarring.

  Salty tears stung the corner of her eyes, and she beat the eggs even harder, attacking the yolks. Her shoulder stung with the jarring rotations. Her forearm ached with the force. She hadn't expected him to give in so easily. There had been a small part of her that wanted him to…to what? To forgive her instantly, she realized. To tell her there was nothing insurmountable for them. To maybe even beg her forgiveness for being cross, for not understanding that she hadn't meant to hurt that girl.

  Even as Emma realized it was an impossible expectation, she still wanted it.

  How had everything become so hard?

  Anne's love life. Her friendship with Knight.

  Emma had always assumed that love and friendship were easy.

  Love was a spark. Pheromones. An all-consuming desire to be together.

  Friendship was a bond. Connection. A sense of comfort and familiarity.

  These were supposed to be simple things. But they weren't. Maybe they never had been.

  Maybe she had been a fool.

  * * *

  Just as fortune usually smiled on Emma Greene, the sun shone down on the adoption event at Oceanside Park. The grassy park spanned two entire blocks just off the beach and was filled with sunbathers and picnickers, and the playground in the corner teemed with joyfully screaming children. Future adoption prospects.

  Emma hefted the document boxes against her chest and pointed to the playground on the other side of park from where they were. "Let's set up there instead."

  Knight, Rick, and Josh who held the canopy tent poles over their shoulders in a line came to an abrupt stop. Knight followed the direction of her finger.

  "It's…far." Josh pulled his baseball cap over his sunglasses—his disguise for the day so he wouldn't be recognized. At least not until he wanted to be. Josh was nothing if not strategic about his celebrity.

  "It's perfect." Without waiting for them to agree, Emma crossed the damp grass in her ankle booties. Couldn't they see the obvious potential in her idea? She felt breathless with it. They would erect the tent in the shadow of the trio of palm trees to temper the triple-digit temperatures that were forecasted for the afternoon. Any parents approaching the playground from the south or west entrances—the closest to the major highway exits and parking lots—would be forced to pass by the event. So would the joggers on their way to the Port-a-Potties lining the park's north edge.

  "Seems a little crowded," Anne mumbled. She'd finally caught up to Emma with the fold-up table in hand and squealed as an errant child ran underfoot.

  "Crowded? No, it's festive! Lively! Exactly what potential new dog owners want in their lives." Her eyes found Knight, who was still standing where she'd left him. She beckoned him over with her fingers but found her grin, usually so easy, took more effort.

  Pretending like everything was okay was easier said than done.

  Despite everything—their fight, the awkwardness and everything else—he came and brought the others with him, because he was her Knight. On the count of three, he directed Rick and Josh to lift the tent poles off their shoulders and lay them on the ground. Anne pulled out the legs for the fold-up table, and Emma set the document boxes on top.

  Rick quickly took charge, directing the canopy setup as Emma and Anne pulled out the shelter's tablet and spread the adoption info sheets across the table. Anne had been right. It was cramped and crowded. Emma was going to be right, too, though. The dogs had not even arrived and a few children toddled their way over, clutching their parents' hands.

  "What are you kids up to?" one of the parents asked.

  "We're from the Oceanside Animal Shelter." Emma handed out brochures. "We have so many wonderful pets looking for a good home." She smiled sweetly at a young, redheaded girl with pigtails. "Do you like dogs?"

  "We're not sure if she's ready," the mom answered.

  Emma knelt down to the girl's level. "It's a big responsibility. But you look like a big
girl. Have you ever walked a dog before?"

  The girl shook her head, her blue eyes glancing up to her mom and then back to Emma.

  "Would you like to try?" Emma asked. She turned the girl toward the other side of the park where Knight, Josh, and Rick were now walking the first set of rambunctious puppies out of the van toward them. The young girl squealed, and it wasn't long before Emma had her mother signing adoption papers.

  When the dogs arrived, Anne came alive. It wasn't long before her crisp white shirt was littered with muddy paw prints. Her cheeks had been stubbornly slobbered on so many times, but Emma resisted the urge to spritz her with antibacterial spray.

  Emma spent most of the afternoon behind the registration desk, explaining the ins and outs of adoption and processing the paperwork. Anne helped ease cautious children toward the dogs, showing them the right way to approach them. Knight and Rick stacked the cat cages nearby and took charge of bringing them in and out for prospective parents. Josh had long since ditched his sunglasses and hat and posed for pictures with each and every person who adopted a new pet. Emma had to admit it was genius of him.

  Still, even the allure of a photo and chat time with Josh Wickham wasn't enough to convince everyone to adopt. Which is why Emma got the divine idea to allow people to name the expectant litters—for a small donation, of course. Emma had just finished handing over a donation receipt when Knight settled into the canvas fold-out chair next to her.

  She glanced at him over her shoulder as she filed the donation forms back into the document box. "Done for the day?"

  He gestured to the cat cages behind her, which were completely empty.

  "Oh, wow!" Emma cupped her cheeks. "This is so amazing. We only have a few dogs left, too." Rick had joined Anne on taking the dogs for a quick lap around the park to drum up interest from some of the picnickers who had been watching their event but hadn't wandered over yet. The Great Dane mutt and Labrador mixes dove headfirst into the grass and rubbed their cheeks against the ground before flipping over onto their backs, paws up. That ought to do the trick, Emma thought.