Page 2 of Tasting Fire
“No, it implies empathy,” she tried to say without injecting her tone with a sharpness that would spur a debate. “What brings you to the hospital this time of night?” As the hospital’s chief of staff, he kept fairly normal hours. And she knew for a fact that he wasn’t on call.
Oliver’s flash of a smile should’ve revved up Emmy’s hormones, her heart. After all, he was the man she shared a bed with, at least when their schedules lined up. But tonight, his polished self-confidence did nothing to alleviate the churn in her stomach or the regret in her soul. “I came to see you, of course.”
“Oliver, we’re slammed. Have been all night even before the Hernandez boy, and I’m buried under a stack of paperwork.”
His smile didn’t waver as he took her elbow and led her into the center of the ER where the staff computers and long community desks sat. “Don’t worry. This won’t take long, and then you can get back to things.” He waved an arm and called out to the staff within hearing distance, “Everyone over here. I need your attention for a few minutes, people.”
As usual, they heeded the self-assured tone in Oliver’s voice and gathered around the counter Emmy and Oliver were standing behind. Once they were obediently lined up, Oliver reached into the pocket of his monogrammed lab coat and withdrew a box.
A blue box. One that had Tiffany & Co. printed in black across the top.
What felt like glass shards pierced Emmy’s already shredded stomach. That wasn’t… He wasn’t… He couldn’t be…
But Oliver pulled a black box from inside the blue one, lifted the lid, and said, “Emerson Louise McKay, be my wife.”
No bended knee. No flowery words. No declaration of love. Hell, it wasn’t even a question.
Just a statement that he expected her to obey like the ER staff who had unquestioningly listened to him.
As Emmy stared at the six-pronged platinum solitaire, no words came to her. Her mind was a void.
Until it filled with pictures of the past.
Another ring. Another time. Another man.
When Cash Kingston had asked her to marry him, he’d only been eighteen, but he’d been everything Emmy had ever wanted in a man. Except he’d lacked one thing. One very important quality. Motivation. A hunger for more.
A crowd—a hundred times the size of this one—had gathered around. After all, the Mountain Springfest was one of the biggest events in Western North Carolina. That day, Cash was wearing a smile and the Levi’s she’d saved up for to give him for Christmas. He certainly didn’t lack for an audience. He tugged her up on the temporary stage, dropped dramatically to one knee, and offered her forever.
And she just stood there, the yes she wanted to say held back by the no she needed to say. The reality of her rejection slowly seeped into Cash’s beautiful brown eyes and they turned muddy with sorrow and betrayal. The onlookers grew restless and uncomfortable, their whispers and speculations whipping through the gathering like a sudden wind.
Cash was nothing if not proud, and he came to his feet with a self-confidence that few young men could’ve pulled off. He flashed a smile at the crowd. No one but Emmy seemed to realize it wasn’t real. Cash’s genuine smile always brought out the sexy groove in his left cheek.
And he said, “It was just a joke, y’all. Remember, this is April Fool’s Day. And this ring, it’s just a piece of crap I got from a machine at Hoffman’s Grocery.”
He tossed it in the air, but Emmy caught it before it could fall to the stage floor. She squeezed it tightly enough to leave a circle embossed on her palm.
Cash hopped off the platform and into the crowd. Still playing a part, he turned to reach for Emmy’s hand as if to help her off the stage, but she slowly shook her head and stumbled away to trip down the rickety stairs at the back.
By the time she’d gotten her breath and composure back enough to look for him, he’d disappeared. The next day, she went to his house, only to be informed by his younger brother Shep that “Cash doesn’t want that cheap piece of shit and said to keep the damn ring.”
At home, she’d carefully placed the white gold circlet inset with a trio of diamond chips into the shoe box filled with her silver high heels, the ones she’d worked so hard to afford. The ones she was supposed to wear to the senior prom. Only now she had no date, and when prom night came, apparently Cash was out partying down at Deadman’s Creek with some of his buddies.
And when she heard he was so hungover the next day that he’d blown off the SAT test, she knew she’d made the right call.
Cash Kingston had no drive to be anything but a small-town boy. And Emerson McKay wanted the world.
Shouldn’t the expensive engagement ring Oliver was holding out to her now feel like the world?
“Emerson?” Oliver prompted. “Did you hear me?”
Emmy swallowed. “Let’s take this into the break room. We need to talk.”
Oliver’s expression transformed from mild to stormy. “There’s nothing to discuss,” he said, tone even. Too even. “Take the ring.”
“Don’t make me do this,” she tried to whisper so no one else would hear.
“Take the goddamn ring.” He thrust the box closer to her, and it demanded all of Emmy’s self-control not to flinch away.
