Just Breathe Trilogy Box Set (92 page)

Jared, Maggie, Nathan and Sadie join me when I go back to New Jersey to see Mr. and Mrs. Nelson. This time, I feel more confident in my ability to stay calm and controlled while I’m there. The six of us relax in the kitchen, eating and chatting freely. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson share more stories about when I was young eagerly.

“Can we see it?” Nathan inquires.

“What?” I check.

“The house?” he explains.

A lump catches in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

“Maybe next time,” Jared offers.

“I’m not ready for that,” I admit, bowing my head.

“That’s understandable,” Maggie assures.

“Thanks,” I accept.

“Nothing’s changed,” Mr. Nelson reminds.

“I know,” I say nervously.

“Benjamin,” Mrs. Nelson scolds.

“What?” he defends.

“It’s okay, really,” I soothe.

Before leaving the neighborhood, Jared, Maggie, Nathan and I walk around — they want to see where I grew up.

“Do you remember anything?” Maggie questions.

“A little,” I answer honestly.

Pointing to a small park when we round the corner to the block, I mention, “That’s where I learned to ride a bike.”

“Cool,” Jared replies.

As we continue to walk, many things look like they’ve changed so much that my memories are foggy. The bitter chill in the air scares us away, pushing us back in the car to return to our families.

While everyone hides in their rooms to wrap gifts after dinner, I sit out in the living room with Sadie as I triple check everything for Raven Media. The programers finished everything two weeks ago and the servers are fully functional — we’re just waiting for the official release which will be taking place after the New Year.

The Covelli staff for each of their businesses are already using our cloud-based system and have been since just before Thanksgiving. They reported an increase in profits and practically every one of their hotels are completely reserved for the entire holiday season. They own over twenty hotels in New York alone and they’re booked solid at least four weeks after the upcoming fashion show season at the end of January. All of our clients who were receiving management services from Raven previously now have their own staff who are utilizing our system also.

Late in the evening, once everyone is off to bed, I make my way over to Joe’s. He greets me happily at the door, yanking me behind him as we rush off to his bedroom. We cuddle for a while before getting naked. As we lay snuggling, Joe seems a bit nervous. When I ask him what’s going on, he brushes it off until he can no longer hide his excitement.

“I got you something,” he confesses, reaching for something in his nightstand.

“What?!” I protest. “We agreed no gifts.”

“It’s just a little something,” he says, placing a small white box that is tied with a red ribbon in my hands.

My breathing becomes shallow, my palms begin to sweat and I find myself having trouble swallowing.

“It’s not what you think,” Joe reports with mixed emotions splashed across his face.

“How am I supposed to respond to that,” I say.

There are only a few things that come inside a box this size.

Realizing that I’m hesitant to open the gift, Joe does it for me. His fingers reach inside and my eyes close, not wanting to see. It takes a second or two before curiosity consumes the kitten. My eyes open to find Joe holding up a metal ring with two keys on it.

“What is it?” I ask, rendered clueless by the gift.

“They’re keys,” he chuckles.

“Obviously,” I retort. “Why are you giving me keys?”

“They’re to my place,” he reveals. “This one is for the penthouse in California and this one is for here.”

“What?!” I gasp. “No . . . No. No. No.” My body moves away from him as I search the room for my clothes.

“What’s wrong?” Joe checks nervously. “They’re just keys.”

“They aren’t just keys, Joe,” I snap.

“Why are you upset,” Joe asks a little shocked.

“I don’t want keys to your place . . . your places,” I say sternly, keeping my voice low to not wake Jimmy and Allen.

“Why not? We’ve been spending the night at each other’s places for a while now,” he presents.

“So?” I reply.

“So, this just makes sense,” he explains.

“No, it doesn’t. It’s just sex,” I remind.

“Emma, seriously?!” he counters.

“What?”

“We’ve been having sex for five months,” he comments.

“So?” I reply, still panicking.

“So, it’s clearly more than just sex,” he contends.

“No,” I object.

“I haven’t been with anyone else and you’ve only been with Maggie on occasion, which technically doesn’t count,” he states calmly.

“Maggie counts,” I argue, shrugging on my sweater, avoiding the real reason why I’m freaking out.

“You know what I mean, Emma.”

“I need to go,” I announce, searching for my boots and purse.

“Emma,” Joe calls, moving toward me only wearing his underwear and a shirt.

I grab my purse and head to the front door, remembering that my boots are in the closet.

“Emma,” Joe whispers. “Emma, talk to me.” He tries to block me from getting my last boot. “Please, just talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply, keeping my voice as low as I can while expressing my discomfort. My hand snatches the boot from him and I get it on.

“Emma,” Joe calls, pulling me toward him by my upper arm.

My head turns away, not wanting and unable to look him in the eye.

“Please, Emma,” Joe begs.

With all the strength I can gather, I repeat, “I need to go.” I slip out from his grasp and exit his home. Pressing the elevator door repeatedly as my leg shakes impatiently.

“Emma,” Joe calls when my finger presses the button a second time. He’s standing right behind me with one of his hands on my hip. “Emma, come back inside so we can talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I reply, irritated that the elevator has yet to arrive.

“There’s a lot to talk about,” he presents, moving to my left and into my line of sight. “I understand why you’re freaking out.”

My gaze darts to him, but words fail to form in my brain for my mouth to speak. He wants more, he wants a relationship and this is the final rule to my list that hasn’t been broken — that can’t be broken.

“Please,” Joe begs, reaching for my face.

I yank away from his hand and spring inside the elevator before the doors are all the way open. Joe follows me, placing himself between me and the door. My purse drops to the floor when Joe’s body is pressed against mine, holding me firmly against the wall as our mouths dance together. It takes several heated kisses for my brain to gain control and turn my head to the side and for my hands to let go of him.

“Emma,” Joe calls sweetly.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” I return calmly and probably with a bit of coldness. “You want more and I don’t.”

“No,” he answers. “Okay, yes. I want more, but . . . .” Joe stops mid-sentence.

I watch him careful, expecting him to finish, but he doesn’t. I’m torn between wanting to know what he was going to say and not wanting to know.

After what feels like a long time of us just standing and staring at each other, I prompt, “And . . . ?”

“And,” he huffs. “I think, even though you’re scared, that you want more too.”

My lungs cease to move as my brain and body process his words. Unable to speak as I start to feel lightheaded, my head shakes in opposition. Joe leans closer, cautiously brushing his lips on mine. My nose sucks in a large breath of air when his tongue reaches in. My body abandon’s my brain, wrapping my arms around his neck, needing to feel his body. Joe spins us and suddenly the door opens. I let go, expecting to see the guards in the lobby. He tries to guide me out the door by my arm, but just as I’m at the edge, my hand snaps back — I press the button that makes the doors close, giving me enough time to get away.

The elevator opens to the lobby and I rush past the guards at the desk, heading for the exit. Another gentleman holds the door for me and I put on my jacket once the steps to the street are at my feet. Taylor is waiting at the back right door of the car — he knew I was coming when I texted after getting away from Joe. Taylor steps to the side, opening the door to let me in.

“Emma,” Joe calls behind me.

I stop, not believing he’s here. Turning, I find Joe standing within inches of me, distress consuming his face. His breath is easily noticed in the cold, night air as he stands in front of me wearing nothing other than a shirt, jeans and shoes. I can feel his body tremble from the winter chill, but the heat radiating from him feels as if we’re in tropical weather.

“Emma, please.” His tone matches the strong emotion on his face.

“Goodnight, Joe,” I bid with my voice cracking.

It takes Joe several long seconds to releases me. The appearance of disappointment and defeat emerge on his face. Unable to cope with him and this situation, I look away. We stand silently for several moments before my body willingly listens to my brain, ushering me into the car.

The next few days I spend my time working on business tasks unless I’m out sightseeing with my family. There isn’t really anything for me to do with Raven Media, in fact, since the change of direction with the company, I have more free time than I anticipated. I’m seriously considering starting or investing in another company to fill up my days. Now I understand why Joe has so much free time being not just the boss, but the owner.

A business is truly successful when the owner doesn’t have to work and can walk away for an extended vacation and come back to it still operating, and when operating well, makes even more money. I’m going to need to ask Mrs. Covelli how she spends her time if she doesn’t need to pay attention to most or any of the daily details of the business and is only updated on a quarterly basis by her staff. How can she live? Well, I guess she does live — living more than most people.

This afternoon, Maggie, Henry, Jared, Nathan and I take Jade to see The Lion King on Broadway. Christmas is in two days and getting Jade out of the rental allows Kim and Peter to finish wrapping her gifts. When we get our tickets at the box office, I notice that Henry is holding an extra one. I don’t inquire as to who’s ticket it is — there’s only one person missing from our usual group outings.

“Joe!” Jade shouts excitedly.

“Hello, princess,” he says warmly.

I do my best to act natural when Joe and I greet each other, but there’s definitely some tension. He wants to talk to me — I’ve been ignoring his texts and calls since we last saw each other a few days ago. Seeing the pain in his eyes makes this all the more uncomfortable — I don’t want him to feel this way. His scent is distracting when he leans in to hug me, enticing the kitten to play. There’s a funny feeling in my gut that I can’t shake each time we glance at each other. Why does he have to make this so complicated?

Though Jade has her own seat, she has trouble seeing the stage, so I encourage her to sit on my lap.

“Joe,” Jade calls, tapping where she was just sitting. “You can move over. I’m going to sit with Emma.”

With a sweet smile, Joe nods and slides over. Neither of us say anything, as Joe relocates.

Jade continues to talk to Joe, Jared and me while we wait for the lights to dim. As the play is about to start, Jade shifts back on my legs. My hands hold her thighs to keep her secure for if she moves at any point. The touch of a warm, larger hand catches my attention and I move to see what’s going on. I find that Jade has taken Joe’s hand and rested it on top of mine followed by hers. Our hands remain in the same location during the rest of the first act.

When the show is over, we stop at a restaurant for dinner and then walk the rest of the way back to the building where we’re staying, stopping at several displays for Jade to see the Christmas decorations or lights. We make our way past the ice rink in Central Park and by the time we’re almost back, Jade has fallen asleep on my shoulder.

Joe follows us upstairs and I immediately take Jade into her room where Jet and Rey are already sleeping. Kim and Peter offer to take her, but I refuse, happy to tuck Jade in. Jade wakes long enough to assist with getting her into her pajamas and for me to read her a story.

“You’ll be a great mom,” Kim whispers, standing in the doorway.

“How long have you been standing there?” I ask, carefully getting up off the bed.

“Long enough,” she says with a smile.

“You know I don’t plan on having kids,” I remind.

“Doesn’t matter what you plan, Emma,” Kim returns. “Life always finds a way.”

“Kim?” I say, wanting to change the subject slightly.

“Yeah, Emma?”

I peer down the hallway to make sure no one is close.

“Are you pregnant?” she suddenly questions.

“What? No! Why would you ask that?” I ask, shocked.

“I just figured since you were . . . .”

“No,” I cut her off. “God, no.”

“Okay, sorry. What is it?”

“I know you can only say so much, because of the whole patient-doctor confidentiality thing,” I nervously state. “But, I was just wondering what you could tell me about Maggie?”

Kim smiles sweetly. “She’s good. Really.”

“Really?” I say happy and relieved.

“She bounced back quickly and really took heed to healing,” she shares. “Maggie and the baby are completely healthy and should be the whole way along.”

Tears flow as a smile spreads across my face. “Thank you.”

Kim steps in and hugs me. “You’re welcome.”

Amy comes down the hall and adds herself to our hug, not saying a word. The three of us stay connected for several moments.

“Everything okay?” Jared inquires from down the hall.

“Yep,” Amy replies.

Kim and Amy disappear leaving Jared and me to ourselves.

“You okay,
Kitten
?” Jared checks, watching my eyes as he holds my face.

“Yeah,” I chuckle, wiping away tears.

“What’s going on?”

“She was just verifying that Maggie’s good,” I say.

“Of course she is,” he confirms.

“No,” I giggle. “I mean about with the baby.”

“Oh. You mean the baby’s healthy.”

“Yes,” I confirm.

“What did Kim say?” he asks eagerly.

“That Maggie really focused on healing and that she and the baby are great,” I explain.

Jared smiles more and hugs me. We stay connected for a few beats before returning to our friends and family for the rest of the night. I manage to sneak into my room early enough to avoid saying goodnight to Joe. The feeling that I need to talk to him stirs, but I don’t know what to say or where I would begin.

My phone buzzes just before midnight, indicating that Joe is calling. My heart is torn about answering — should I?