Page 15 of On the Fly
“Why are you so against a girlfriend?” she asked, trailing down the steps after him.
“I’m not. I’m against talking with my mother about a girlfriend,” he tossed over his shoulder.
“Why? I know everything about you.”
Oh lord, here they went again.
“Not doing this with you.” At the bottom step, he pushed through the door, hearing the noise from a large gathering at the front of the house. “Remember, we’re having a family conference call on Sunday morning. Don’t forget. I got everyone to buy-in to a single meeting time, so don’t miss it. We have to figure things out once and for all.”
He kissed her cheek and waited for a nod. “I wish you could come back before you leave.”
“I’ve got too much going on, Mom. I’ll be back on Sunday to have the conference call with you. And if we try to make this work, you’ll see me more then, I’m sure.” The amount of work waiting on him at the office had him starting down the long hall toward the front door. At this point, he’d be up all night, figuring out a viable strategy for Rora.
“Bye, babe, I’m going to help out in the kitchen. Give me a hug.” This was technically his third goodbye hug in the last three minutes, but he obliged her again, hugging her tightly before she broke away and headed for the kitchen. “Be safe driving back to the city,” she called over her shoulder.
“Remember our meeting.”
“Of course. Saturday night. How could I forget?” She waved a hand his direction.
“Mom,” he said on an exasperated sigh.
His mom stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and laughed as she faced him once again. “You’re too easy, my number one. I won’t forget. Sunday morning.” She blew him a kiss and darted into the kitchen. Ander shook his head and went for the entry. The large crowd dwarfed the expansive entryway and living room while waiters in white ties and black shirts and slacks walked among the groups of people, handing out glasses of white wine and champagne. All the changes were mind-blowing, and he begrudgingly admitted his mother may have found her niche. He hoped she was at least charging appropriately.
Chatter came from all directions.
“Lon, I’m telling you she’s trying to sabotage my plans. She’s always disliked me. Nothing I do helps.” As Ander edged around the crowd, an older couple grabbed his attention, probably because of the deep distress fueling the older woman’s tone.
“Honey, I don’t think Emma’s doing anything like that. She’s just not dressed according to your pre-designed dress code. She’s not trying to hold the party up,” the man gently explained.
“Why do you always take her side?” Her tone went from distraught to petulant in two seconds flat. “She constantly defies me at every turn. I told her to wear a feminine sundress…” The older woman clicked her tongue in disapproval.
Ander scanned the room, interested in what would be considered inappropriate attire. It took less than two seconds to find the outlier. A smile reached his lips before he consciously identified the woman in question ashisEmma. She traded out her empty wineglass for a filled one as a waiter passed by with a tray of drinks. He tilted his head to study her. Her suit from earlier in the day had become rumpled and she’d taken off that smart little suit jacket at some point and had it wrapped around her waist, letting her sleeveless top show her toned arms. She’d piled her long hair atop her head, held there by what looked like a ballpoint pen. She was hot. Not in thatoh so prettyway—although he couldn’t deny his attraction to her in most all settings—but right now she glistened in anit’s too hot outside to wear heavy clotheskind of way.
“You need to talk to her, Lon. If she’s not going to act right, then she needs to leave.”
His gaze stayed locked on Emma as she chugged the entire glass of chilled champagne as if it were an ice-cold glass of water. But the couple kept drawing his attention back to their conversation.
“Honey, she’s trying to get the key to her room right now. Just give her a few minutes.”
“Dinner’s starting. I already struggled to find anyone for her to sit with, because she never brings a date. And she does it on purpose. Do you know how hard it is to find a single person to pair her with every time we do anything? I’m so frustrated with her…and that mouth. My family watches her sass me. It’s disrespectful.”
Oh yeah, no question, they were talking about his Emma—sassy mouth and all. If he were smart, he’d just continue out the door. He had no business getting involved in the private life of an employee…or potential employee if things went his mother’s way. He was five steps to freedom, five steps to leaving for the night and tackling the mounds of work waiting for him. She hadn’t seen him, and she didn’t need him to save her or fight her battles. He’d seen how equipped she was to handle herself.
Ander headed toward the door, but when he looked over his shoulder one final time, Emma had set her trajectory to approach what must have been her father and the stepmother. He had no idea what made him pivot and head back toward them. No sane person would execute the idea that had popped into his head, but Emma hadn’t had a good few days. Some of those dramatic moments could even be categorized as his fault, though he’d never admit that out loud. One thing he knew, Emma was confident enough to sit alone. She didn’t need her stepmother to find someone to be her partner at a dinner party, and for some reason that drove his actions even if they were ill-thought-out and spontaneous.
“I’m not trying to be difficult…” Emma had her back to Ander. He placed a hand on her waist near her hip and stepped to her side, effectively circling her in his arms. The move drew all three people’s eyes up to him.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Ander said. Even without a plan in place, Emma’s quick mind should read his actions for what they were and understand his motive. He hoped. But the look she gave him showed nothing but bewilderment, and she stared up at him in utter confusion. He tried to look remorseful as he attempted to give her another clue to his insane plan. “Don’t be angry. You know I had work to do.”
She compressed her brow into a deep furrow, alerting Ander that she clearly wasn’t good at improv. Her mouth gaped open, no words coming out. Instead of letting her destroy this generous act on his part, he tugged her against his side and stuck out his hand to her father. “I’m Ander Jorgensen. I’m sorry I’m late. I got tied up at the office.”
The confusion on the stepmother’s face brought instant joy to Ander’s heart. Emma’s father, on the other hand, eagerly pumped Ander’s hand.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing someone, Emma.”
“Dad…” Her bright eyes narrowed on Ander and she finally appeared to understand his intentions. He couldn’t tell though if she’d play along or blow the gift he was giving her.
“You didn’t tell me you were bringing a guest.” There was strong outrage and reprimand in her stepmother’s tone as she crossed her arms.
