Emma vs. The Tech Guy (18 page)

“When I tore the old shed down, you looked at the pile of wood and wanted us to start building that day.”

“Yeah, I remember sweet talking Lou to help you.”

“I tried to tell you we needed to start from scratch. That we had to get new wood and begin with a fresh new foundation. But you wouldn’t stop until we gave in.”

“Are we getting to the life lesson yet?” I wasn’t used to having nowhere to be, but my patience didn’t know that.

“Don’t be a smartass, Missy. Anyway, do you remember what happened every time those Santa Anas blew through here?”

“How could I forget? Boards fell off. It would lean so far over we thought it would collapse.” I smiled at the memory of Pop and Lou fixing that piece of junk every single time.

“Then one day after a big storm, you marched out there and started kicking the crap out of that leaning house. Damn near knocked the whole thing over. When I came out, you said, ‘Pop, you were right. We need to start over. Build this thing right from the start.’”

“So you’re saying complete demolition is in order? Start fresh?”

He nodded. “Won’t be easy.”

“That’s putting it mildly. But you’re right.” I thought about all the people that would be affected by my life-changing decision to come clean and start anew. And for some reason, the person I worried most about was Jayne. I needed to have a long talk with her and explain a few things about the person she thinks is her friend.

“I’m always right.”

I got up and planted a kiss on his weathered cheek. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Now I better get this dinner back on track. Sure you won’t stay?”

“Thanks, but I have a feeling you’ll have much more fun without me.”

Chapter 19

It was Tuesday morning, and my stomach felt like I’d swallowed a potato whole and then drank acid. Proof positive that Jayne had come to mean a great deal to me. Her friendship was part of the reason I sat there dreading what I was about to do. I’d already put it off by calling in sick on Monday, telling Bill it must have been jetlag. Yeah, from a forty-five minute flight. That’s like getting seasick while watering the grass.

If I were honest, it wasn’t only Jayne I was hiding from. But I worked from home, finalizing details on both the first official issue of our newly designed magazine and the launch party celebrating it. I also organized all the notes I took at the tradeshow and promised Bill that Guy and I would give an official presentation at the next office meeting.

As I sat at my desk, staring at the hallway that Jayne would take to her office, I wondered if I would recognize the truth if it came up and bitch-slapped me. When you lived a lie as long as I had, you eventually believe it.

For a second I thought of Guy. No, what happened in Vegas had nothing to do with my decision to cleanse my soul. Guy was a non-issue. And there was no need to tell Howard about it, either. Just forget it ever happened, like I’d told Guy. Thinking about that kiss didn’t serve any purpose. Or was it an almost-kiss? Did that even count? Horseshoes and hand grenades. Whatever it was, it was best left alone.

Thankfully, I didn’t have the chance to tell Howard. He was gone when I returned from Pop’s house that night, and I didn’t wait up for him. He’d been like a ghost ever since. Unable to quit his job yet, he told me he’d work night and day until he could turn that rundown bar into the pub of his dreams. The space from Howard was probably good for both of us, anyway.

I checked my watch. Jayne would be here any moment. I caught a glimpse of Guy across the way and turned my head to my computer to avoid eye contact. But who was I kidding? I couldn’t avoid him forever. I could tell Bill that I wouldn’t be able to make the game tonight, but there was still the launch party on Friday night.

My email displayed on the screen and a string of names glared at me. They would all have to wait, because my mind couldn’t focus on anything until I talked to Jayne. The screen blurred before me as I ran over the various reactions Jayne could have. Then, in my trance-like state, I noticed a haze of pink and black whir by my office. It was go time, but I didn’t get up. My feet were glued to the floor, hands firmly grasping the sides of my chair. Was this the part where your life flashes before your eyes? I thought of my first weeks at
New You
magazine. How I’d kept to myself, worked hard, and tried to find opportunities to stand out while blending in. I know it sounds crazy, but eventually it worked. Bill retired my “Newlywed News” column and I became a copy editor. But it wasn’t until I became managing editor, until Jayne and I became friends, that I started to notice a change in me. That I started to feel and care about the people I work with. Caring is complicated as hell.

I sucked in a giant breath, held it, then blew it out.

“Hey, Jaynie,” I said in her doorway.

I hadn’t seen her since before I left for the trip. She looked up with a dazed kind of smile that I couldn’t quite read. “Emma, hey.”

“Got a minute?”

“Are you kidding? Get your ass in here. I want to hear about the trip. Then I’ve got my own little update for you.”

I took a seat, only half-listening, formulating my words before I spoke them. “Jaynie, I really want to talk to you about something.”

Her face grew concerned. “Did something happen on the trip?”

“It’s not about the trip. It’s just … I need to tell you something. But I want to explain a few things first.”

“Sounds serious.”

“I’ve really appreciated your friendship and how close we’ve grown.”

Her hands grabbed the desk in front of her and she shot forward. “Oh, my God, are you sick, Emma?”

“No, it’s nothing like that.” At that point I almost wished I was about to ask for a kidney.

She let out a sigh of relief and settled back into her chair.

“You’ve really taught me a lot.”

“Really?” She seemed genuinely surprised. “I could say the same about you, Emma. I’ve learned so much here.”

“Thanks. But, I was talking about friendship and values. You’re a wonderful person, and I’m proud to have you as my friend.”

“Aww, you’re so sweet.” Her hand jutted forward across the desk to take hold of mine. I met her half-way, felt a warm squeeze.

And then I saw it. “Jaynie! Is that—?”

“Yes, can you believe it? Hank proposed.”

Suddenly I felt a whole different kind of sick. Then the sickness turned to panic. What the hell was I supposed to say? I scrambled for a response. Shit! Wait! This was obviously supposed to be a happy occasion. Of course she wanted me to be happy.

“Wow,” I said, like déjà vu. Hadn’t I just had this conversation with Howard? I plastered on a smile, all the while wondering how this could have happened so quickly. Last I heard, Hank had split after his late-night booty call and Jayne had taken up with Hugh Humphries. But Jayne did say he sent her flowers. Was that all it took? “Congratulations, Jayne. I’m really happy for you.” That hadn’t sounded genuine even to me, but I didn’t think she noticed.

“Well,” she said, pulling her hand back. “I actually haven’t said yes yet.”

“Oh?” I hoped my raised eyebrows were enough of a question to elicit more details.

“Yeah, he just asked me yesterday, and I was kind of hoping to talk to you.”

Argh! No pressure there. “Well, let’s start with the story. How did it happen?”

My mind spun as I listened to her recount the details of Hank’s proposal. I may have missed a few key points in there, but heard something about Hank showing up with flowers and an iPod. He proceeded to stick the ear buds in her ears to serenade her. The problem was that he started his little proposal speech, but she couldn’t hear a word he said until he reached into his pocket for the box, and she plucked the stupid things from her ears.

“And after Hank Jr. didn’t come home,” she said, snapping me back to attention, “he realized that he couldn’t live without me, either.”

“So you’re saying that a dog is the reason he proposed?”

“When you say it like that, it doesn’t sound very romantic.”

A squeal behind my chair startled me. I turned to find Nannette standing in the doorway.

“Oh. My. God! Jayne, did Hank propose?”

“Yes!” Jayne stood abruptly and stuck out her hand for proper viewing.

Nannette floated in followed closely by Adam.

“It’s beautiful!” Nannette said, gripping Jayne’s finger.

“Let me take a look at that rock,” Adam said as he scooted into Jayne’s office.

A small crowd gathered at the doorway, including Marty and two of our other freelancers. I stood and waited for them to pass. Then I sneaked out like a coward, listening to the oohs, ahs, and congrats, as I paced down the hall.

I quickened my step, hoping to make it to the lounge before anyone stopped me. But as I got closer, my pace slowed. It was ridiculous. I couldn’t hide forever. I stood there staring at the door. Then with new determination, I made an abrupt turn on my heel to head back to Jayne’s office and ran right into Guy.

“Whoa. What’s the hurry?” Guy said, catching me in his arms. His hands cupped my elbows, and my gaze fell deep into his. That was the last thing I needed. I flung my arms down and pushed back from him.

“Sorry,” I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my hand.

“Wait. What’s going on?” he said in a soft voice.

A pulse of electricity traveled up my arm. I told myself it meant nothing. I was upset, confused. My head shook in frustration.

“Nothing.” I tried to pull away, but he held firm. He looked around and then yanked me into an empty office.

“Guy, I’m fine.” My attempt to convince us both had not worked. He continued to hold my hand, staring at me until I caved. And for a moment, I didn’t want to let go. That small gesture, of his hand around mine, had brought comfort if only for a moment. And in the moment, I almost felt that things could end up all right. But this wasn’t a fairytale that delivered a happy ending wrapped in a bow, so I slipped my hand from his and turned my gaze away.

“Emma, I know things are awkward between us. But I have a feeling this isn’t just about Vegas. I can see it in your eyes.”

How could he read me so easily
? I’d never been an open book, but Guy seemed to be able to wander through my pages and read the lines before they were written down.

“Maybe I’ve got some things going on right now, but I can handle it.”

“I have no doubt you can handle just about anything.” He leaned up against a desk and folded his arms. “But you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why do you look so … lonely?”

If I was feeling lonely, it was quickly turning into pissed. I didn’t need someone telling me how I felt. Not now.

“You don’t know how I’m feeling.”

“You’re right, Emma. I don’t think anyone does.” He stood and took a step toward me. I didn’t respond, just shook my head. What could I say when he kept being so right?

“Can I at least be your friend?” he said with a kind of sadness that made my heart sink.

“Guy, I just want—”

“Emma, can I have a minute, please?” Bill’s voice came from behind me. He stood in the doorway and pointed toward his office. He fixed a scowl on me like a parent who was about to get out the paddle.

“Sure.” I shrugged at Guy and followed Bill to his office. A pair of white sneakers stuck out from the cuffs of his tailored suit pants. His desire to win the upcoming basketball game took precedence over style.

“What’s up?” I said after I plunked down in a chair opposite him.

“You do realize were putting our new issue to bed tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“And the launch party is Friday night?”

“Yeah.” At that point I probably should have paid more attention to the vein in his temple as it grew and pulsed before me. “Now that we have the schedule down, you want to tell me something I don’t know?”

That comment didn’t sit well with him, and he seemed to be doing one of those mental countdowns.

“If you know all this, then why don’t you tell me why the hell our office feels like an episode of Jersey Shore? There’s way too much non-business crap going on around here lately.”

“Bill—”

He ignored my attempt at protest and continued right over me. “And I’m not just talking about everyone else. You’ve been different lately, calling in sick, moody, or distracted or some womanly shit like that. And I can’t have that from you, Emma. My right-hand woman has always been, well, my right-hand man. I know. You can sue me for sex discrimination, but at least wait until after the goddam launch!” He slammed his fist on the desk.

I flinched, feeling a few dollops of spit land on my arm. My face grew flushed, and I suddenly felt about ten years old. There’s nothing positive about growing up without parents, but I now knew one of the more unpleasant aspects I’d missed out on. When Dad was around, he probably felt too guilty to yell at me, or he just didn’t give a shit. And Pop wasn’t like that. At least not with me.

“Bill,” I said as I let out a surprised breath. I hadn’t seen him this upset and stressed since the Lizette incident. “I’m sorry if you feel I’ve let you down. I know I’ve been somewhat distracted lately. And yes, there have been a number of personal situations coming up in the office.” As I spoke, I noticed his face softening a bit. “But I can assure you, everything’s under control.” Or at least I’d make it so. Maybe I was failing at getting my personal life in order, but I would not fail the magazine.

“This whole thing was your idea and—”

“I know. And, I admit the timing of everything could have been planned a little better, but we didn’t know about MediaWest when we planned the launch and the party.” My eyes pleaded with him for some leeway. “Bill, trust me, I’ll handle it.”

He sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples. His anger transformed into something else, a dazed, lost-in-thought expression.

“The issue’s wrapped, no problem there. Do you want to run down the list for Friday night?”

He continued to stare through me.

“Bill?”

The focus popped back into his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do that.”