Page 122 of Blitzing Emily

If the rest of the year turned out like the first eight hours of it, she wasnotgoing to be happy.

The concierge flew across the lobby with a handful of tissues. “Let me help.” She wiped at Emily’s dripping hand. “I’m not sure what we can do about your pants.”

“It’s not like we have a lot of options there. I was due at a meeting fifteen minutes ago in your restaurant.” Emily reached out for the tissues, dabbed unsuccessfully at the coffee stain, and handed them back to the concierge. “If you could point me in the right direction, I’d appreciate it.”

“Follow me,” the concierge said.

David was the only customer in the restaurant. He got to his feet as Emily approached, looking impeccable as usual, and holding out his arms for a hug. She resisted the impulse to spill what was left in the cup on him. He wore dark dress slacks, a maroon lightweight knit sweater, and an air of invincibility. It would be nice if he had the decency to look somewhat disheveled on a holiday known primarily for football games and hangovers.

“What happened there?” he said, indicating the stain on Emily’s outfit.

“I had a dispute with a door, and the door won. How are you, David? Happy New Year.” She handed the offending paper cup to a server as she sat down at the table. “May I please have another non-fat latte? If there’s any of the non-spill type left, I’ll take one of those. Thank you so much.” She gave him a dazzling smile. He grinned at her in response.

“Right away, miss.” He indicated the two menus lying on the table. “I’ll be back to take your breakfast order.”

David sipped his coffee and reached out to pat Emily’s hand across the table. “I’m fine. Late night?”

“Hardly.” Emily’s New Year’s Eve date had been a handsome, funny, charming, and very successful local businessman she’d met after a recent performance. She did her best to join in the fun at the high-profile party on the top deck of the Space Needle, but her heart wasn’t in it. She couldn’t stop thinking about Brandon, or how badly she’d wanted him to be the man she kissed at midnight. She’d pleaded a terrible headache. The pain was actually eighteen inches lower. She was home in bed alone by 12:30. “Did you go out for the evening?” she said.

“I watched the fireworks, and I had some champagne. My girlfriend is in Chicago for the holidays.” David picked up his menu. “I have some news.”

She told herself to take deep breaths. Her career was booming. Her schedule was nearly booked for the next three years. He wouldn’t fly to Seattle to tell her about a cancellation. She draped a napkin over her stained pants and took a sip of water.

“I was wondering why you asked me for a meeting on a national holiday.”

David reached out, took the water glass from her hand, and put it back down on the table.

“The Met called me late yesterday afternoon. They’re presentingLa Bohemeearly next month. The woman scheduled to sing Musette is struggling with some health issues. They need a cover who’s highly experienced with the role and can step in to sing it at a moment’s notice. Are you interested?”

She opened her mouth, shut it again, and opened it. She looked at him in shock. Heat rolled over her body like a wave. Maybe she was dreaming. Maybe she hadn’t heard him correctly. It was understandable. She’d worked for years to hear those words. It couldn’t be possible that attaining her biggest goal would be this easy.

A latte with a heart drawn into the foam was set down in front of her. She knew the server was talking to her, but she couldn’t respond. She heard David say, “Give us a minute.” David reached across the table and passed his hand in front of her face as his lips curved into a smile. “Emily. Talk to me.”

“Please tell me you told them yes.”

“Of course I did. Let’s have a toast.” He picked up his coffee cup. “Cheers. Happy New Year.”

THE INITIAL EXCITEMENTEmily felt at the achievement of her biggest goal was swallowed up in the numbness that was her constant companion without Brandon. She wondered if he thought about her at all, if he missed her, too. Two weeks after her meeting with David, Emily found herself driving to Amy’s shop at lunchtime on a dreary January day, a take-out bag next to her on the car seat. Maybe a heart-to-heart with her sister might banish the blues.

Amy greeted her with a hug. “What’s in the bag?”

“Lunch,” Emily said. “I hope you still like turkey and Swiss on whole wheat.”

“Yeah. It’s good to see you.” Amy peered into her sister’s face. “Something’s wrong.”

Emily dropped the bag on the chest-high table in Amy’s work area and pulled up a stool. “Hopefully you have sodas. I forgot them.”

Amy was tapping away at the screen of her smart phone. “Pop. I’ll get some,” she said distractedly.

“Quit texting and get over here.”

“Hang on a minute. I have to answer this. It’s Brandon.”

The hair stood up on the back of Emily’s neck. Amy must have been sending him another message. She hadn’t looked up from the screen since Emily arrived. “Since when do you text with Brandon?” she asked, doing her best to sound uninterested. She was anything but. The green-eyed monster was clawing at her guts.

“He’s checked in a few times,” her sister said. “It’s friendly.” She glanced at the screen again. “He has tickets for this weekend’s game, but I already told him I can’t go.”

Amy stuck her phone back in her work apron pocket. It was all Emily could do to resist grabbing it away from her. If she gave any indicator of her fear, jealousy, and hurt, she was lost. She concentrated on pulling sandwiches, salad, and cookies out of the bag with trembling hands.

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