Page 61 of Desire

An unfamiliar subject line caught her eye, and Emma frowned, her curiosity piqued. She opened the email, her eyes widening as she read its contents. A contact from her student teaching days was asking if she was interested in interviewing for a teaching position at a local kindergarten.

Emma leaned back in her chair, her mind reeling as she realized that she wanted to apply. Searching her feelings, she was honest with herself. Was she still afraid of the violence? Yes. She thought she always would be. Was she going to let that stop her again? She thought about it. She thought about it long and hard.

The opportunity presented itself like a lifeline, a chance to escape the chaos and heartbreak. Yet, even as the possibility of a new future dangled before her, Emma hesitated.

She glanced around the office, taking in the familiar surroundings that had become her second home. Couture had given her a sense of purpose, a place where she could excel and grow. The thought of leaving it all behind filled her with uncertainty. She’d gotten her confidence back here. Dante had helped her grow into being Queen Mab. And, yes, while Kiki had put a bit of a dent into all that hard work, she hadn’t obliterated it. Emma’s experiences here, both at Couture and in Club Inferno, had awakened a strength within her that she never knew she possessed.

She had faced her fears, embraced her desires, and discovered a resilience that had been lying dormant all along. The thought of stepping back into a classroom and doing what she loved, what she had gone to school for, was tempting. It was like she had been given a second chance.

Before she could second-guess herself, she wrote back to her contact telling them to submit her name as a candidate for the position. Then she hit send. For a panicked moment, she wondered if it had been the right thing.

Yes. It had been. At the very least, she could interview for the position. She didn’t have to take it if she was offered it. Heck, they might not even want to interview her. But it was a start. It was something positive. Something better than just wallowing in self-pity and allowing Kiki Pretty to dictate her life.

Kiki had taken so much from her—her confidence, her relationship, her peace of mind. It was time for Emma to take something back. She returned to her computer, her fingers flying over the keys as she accessed Couture’s employee files. Maybe there was something in Kiki’s modeling assignments or contracts that could give Emma leverage to back her off Joey.

Was what Emma doing illegal? Yes. Should she stop right now? Yes. Was she going to? No.

As she scrolled through the information, her eyes scanned the screen for any connection that wouldn’t like the type of mean-girl publicity that Kiki was throwing out there. Dante had taken away Couture from Kiki and that had to have been a blow. What could Kiki not afford to lose? Emma didn’t know, but she was going to find out.

Chapter Nineteen

EMMA

Emma slouched on the worn couch, the cushions sagging beneath her as she stared numbly at the television. A pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream lay cradled in her lap, a quarter of the carton already gone. Images flickered across the screen, but she barely registered them, her fingers worrying at her phone.

Don’t call Dante.

She tossed the phone on the side table in frustration and took another heaping spoonful of ice cream. Joey hadn’t called her back either. Emma grabbed her phone again, fingers hovering over Dante’s number. A wave of longing washed over her—yearning for him.

She pulled up Kiki’s Instagram with trepidation. The videos were still there, racking up views and mocking comments by the thousands. Dante had assured her Kiki would take them down. Why hadn’t she? Hot tears of shame pricked at Emma’s eyes.

The sudden shrill ring of her phone made Emma jump, nearly spilling ice cream in her lap. Mom’s smiling face lit up the screen. Her spirits lifted as she swiped to answer—talking to Mom always made her feel better.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Mom’s voice sounded strained, wrong. A chill ran down Emma’s spine. “It’s about Joey. He’s in the hospital.”

The spoon clattered to the floor as Emma bolted upright, ice cream forgotten. “What? Why? Is he okay?”

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