Freedom Page 8

  “You’re not supposed to go out with old boyfriends. When a relationship is done, you move on,” I say.

  “Really? Haven’t you ever gone out with an ex-girlfriend to catch up and see how things are going?”

  I am about to say no. I didn’t have steady girlfriends in high school or college; I had a notorious reputation as a screw-around-guy that I didn’t mind at the time, yet then there was Jessica. Shit. How could I forget that detail? After Jess broke up with me, and before she was officially dating my brother, Jess and I would regularly meet for lunch to talk like real friends. Then I went off to my boot camp therapy, and Jess and Carson got engaged while I was gone. It’s not like I can ignore Jess or stay away, she’s my sister-in-law, and we actually are friends. However, I don’t see this Robert creep being a friend to Emma. I am no saint, but that guy is something much worse.

  “I don’t make dates or lunch plans with women I used to go out with.” It’s out before I can think of how I will backtrack over that lie when it’s exposed. These are the kinds of secrets you can’t keep under lock and key in Hera, and we are talking about my brother’s wife. I am so fucked on this one. I don’t see how this can play out well for me unless Lauren has already told her every detail.

  “Well, I agree. It’s best to move on, but I’m not going to get rid of Robert by trying to avoid him. A talk won’t hurt.”

  “I don’t see how it’s going to help, either. I’m guessing Mr. Gigolo doesn’t take no for an answer.”

  The sound of her giggle softens me a bit. “Told ya he was handsome, not a goomba.”

  “A good-looking dickwad,” I mumble and Emma laughs again.

  When the Jeep is loaded with the few belongings she’s brought to Hera, she holds out her palm to me.

  “I need to drive. I can’t take your kamikaze action,” she says.

  I chuckle and hand over my keys. “This should be interesting. I’ve already had to bail you out of two driving situations.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Buckle up,” she retorts as she struggles to adjust the seat so she can reach the pedals.

  “Mind if I help?” I ask, smiling. I am ready to be the calm, cool guy now, not the tornado of raging jealousy.

  She sits back and lets me adjust the seat, sliding her forward until she can see over the steering wheel.

  “Are you going to be okay there?” I laugh. This is an old Jeep and the seats are practically concave. “You look really tiny in the driver’s seat. You know, I can run back inside the cottage and grab that fat dictionary for you to sit on. Can you even drive a standard shift?”

  She glares as me before putting her sunglasses on. “My family is in the auto business. I used to move the cars from the garage to the lot all day long. I can drive anything.”

  Three minutes into our drive back to my house, and I can’t hide my laughter.

  “What?” she snaps.

  “You drive like a granny. Kids on bicycles are passing us.” I grin as she looks at me defiantly.

  “Well, good, ‘cause my grandmother is an excellent driver. She’s never had an accident. At least I don’t go plowing off bridges.” She glances my way.

  “Bingo. You got me there.” I smile.

  So Lauren did tell her the details about my terrific dive off the old, wooden bridge near Carson’s house last fall. Everyone has assumed I was scarred or devastated after seeing Jess leave Carson’s house. That wasn’t the case, though. I was in some kind of mental fog and took a turn too hard and too fast. Poor Jess thought I was suicidal because of our break up. I had to confess to her later that I wasn’t broken-hearted over her, and that crashing the company delivery truck was nothing more than an accident. She was relieved.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” Emma says. “I’m sorry.” She glances over at me to see my reaction, but I can’t help smiling.

  “Don’t be sorry. It was a good comeback, and I was the idiot that drove that truck off the bridge. It’s kind of nice to drive at this granny pace.”

  “Shut it.” She smiles.

  I’d like to keep making her smile.

  When we get back to my place, Leo is putting a laundry basket of clothes in his truck, and Carson’s truck is there, too. As he comes out of the house carrying Leo’s computer, I guess my cover as a friendly roommate is about to be blown. Carson puts Leo’s computer in the truck and then walks up to my Jeep as Emma rolls into the slowest stop ever.

  “I don’t think that drive has ever taken longer,” I say, climbing out of the vehicle.

  Emma hops down. “Slow and safe. That is Grandma’s motto.”

  “Hey,” Carson says. “Hi, Emma. So what’s going on?”

  He eyes me taking a box of girly things, knitting supplies, and a hairdryer out of the back end of the Jeep.

  “Hi, Emma!” Leo walks over and joins us. “Dylan told me you moved into the guest room. That’s great. You shouldn’t be alone down in those cottages.”

  Carson’s eyes grow wide as he looks at me.

  “I gotta go, guys,” Leo rambles on as if I just brought home a stray cat and not a woman to live in our house. “Jess is setting up my computer and Imogene is cooking. Life is good over at that house.”

  Leo hops into his truck with the smile of man who knows he’s lucky. As he drives off, Carson turns back to me. Emma stands on the other side of the Jeep, unusually quiet for her.

  “So, you’re moving in here, Emma?” Carson questions. I am guessing he’s being very careful with his tone. He still feels like he needs to watch over me in case I combust.

  “She can’t stay in the cottage. Her ex showed up unannounced and broke in,” I begin to explain.

  “Carson, I know this looks bad,” Emma interjects, rounding the Jeep to face Carson head on with that spunky conviction of hers. “Dylan is my work colleague and you’re my boss and this looks unprofessional, but I want you to know, I have a personal situation that I will not let interfere with my job. But the cottage is a problem, and Dylan came up with the only affordable solution for now.”

  Humored and intrigued, Carson raises his eyebrows at me. I feel a little downgraded at being referred to as her “work colleague,” especially after dealing with the gigolo.

  “If you’re fine with staying here, it’s none of my business. What two consenting adults do outside of the office isn’t my concern.” Carson is trying awfully hard to sound open-minded, though his jugular looks close to rupturing. “You know, you could always stay at my wife’s old house. It’s a huge Victorian, and Jess rents it quite cheaply to Lauren and Imogene. I bet they’d like having you, and there are plenty of bedrooms and more amenities than this place.”

  “No, it’s too crowded there. With the guys there all the time, they’ve got four people in that house already,” I say, knowing I am making Carson more suspicious.

  “I don’t mind staying here,” Emma says. “I’ve discovered that Dylan has absolutely no social life and goes to bed before the cows, so it’s very quiet. I can even get some work done here.”

  Carson isn’t falling for this bull. He laughs and slaps me on the back with extra force. “So you’re that boring?”

  “Are you sure you’re okay with this, Carson?” Emma asks.

  “Yeah, it’s fine.” He shakes his head in disbelief. “And before I forget, Jess and I are having a dinner party soon and you’re both invited. I’ll give you the details when Jess comes up with the spreadsheet on how she’s going to pull this off.” I can envision his neurotic wife organizing a social event using her computational and programming skills.

  “A dinner party?” Emma’s face lights up.

  She has no idea that it will be a dinner party of townie gossip with all eyes on us. Emma may hate this part of small town life.

  “It’s casual. Jeans. Nothing special. Lauren and our usual suspects will be there,” Carson says and then gives me a little sigh.

  “That sounds fun. I can’t wait.” Emma looks v
ery girlish with her enthusiasm over a simple dinner invitation as she grabs the box from my hands. “I’m going to take this in and start unpacking. See you Monday morning, Carson.”

  Carson gives a single wave to her and then swings his hand down to rest at the base of my neck. He is two inches taller than me, and even though I have caught up in the muscle department with him, he still packs a powerful grip.

  “Brother, what’s going on?”

  “It’s true.” My words are bitter as I replay the image of Robert’s arrogant expression. “She had a flat tire last night, so I gave her a ride home, and we found her place had been broken into by her ex-boyfriend. Some guy… well, I’m betting you already know about him.”

  “Yeah, I know everything. I did a background check on Emma, like I do with every employee. She’s clean. Lauren told me about her family’s issues and the ex-boyfriend, and I actually spoke to Emma’s father. He doesn’t think she’s in danger, but he wants her away from the guy. The Marchetto family is another story, but I’m not going to hold that against Emma.”

  “Why would you hire her if you knew all this shit would follow her?”

  “Because Lauren is like a sister to us, and she wanted to help her friend get a good job. And I can’t forget what Lauren’s family did for you and me. Can you?”

  “No,” I respond, remembering the time after our parents’ deaths when Lauren’s parents regularly brought us groceries and paid utility bills so we could keep living in the trailer we ended up in after my mother’s medical expenses caused my father to lose our house. Carson was a teenager then and taking care of me, making sure we went to school and were fed and sheltered.

  “I know you, Carson, you worry about everyone and everything. Why would you take a chance on bringing these characters to town? I don’t mean Emma. I mean the guys she’s associated with.”

  “I’ve done my homework. Even Robert Marchetto, the ex-boyfriend, is pretty tame. He’s only guilty by association from what I can see. Believe me, I had to think about this before hiring Emma. When Lauren told me about Emma’s situation, I made a lot of phone calls before I would even interview her. If I thought there was any risk to our family, our friends, or our employees, I wouldn’t have hired her. Besides, we have…”

  Carson’s voice trails off and he shakes his head.

  “We have what?”

  “Nothing. It’s nothing,” Carson says, looking away. He’s not telling me something.

  “You always like taking care of people.” I fake punch his shoulder.

  “Me? You’re the one who brought her to your house.”

  “Well, this piece of shit, Robert, showed up again. Not only did he break in last night before she got home, he then had the nerve to be there when we showed up today. Emma seems to think she can talk to him and he’ll be on his way, and she said he’s never been violent with her.”

  “What’s your take?” Carson’s voice is thoughtful and guarded, and I know he trusts my opinion most of the time.

  “I don’t like it.”

  “You don’t like it because you like Emma, or you don’t like it because you think the guy is up to something?”

  I look off at the house and imagine Emma finding the perfect place for all of her things.

  “I know you, too, Dylan. Yesterday you were reaming me about hiring her, unconvincingly I might add. Today you’re playing knight in shining armor and moving her in with you under the guise of protecting her. Don’t think I haven’t seen how you look at her.”

  “It’s not like that. I was just trying to help her and then this happened. I couldn’t leave her there.”

  “I’m not saying it’s wrong. It’s okay if you like her, but please be careful. Don’t rush into anything. Oh, fuck, what am I saying? You have her living in your house.” As Carson laughs nervously, I’m honestly surprised he isn’t yelling at me. “Is the feeling mutual on her part or doesn’t she know how you feel?”

  “I don’t even know how I feel about this. I’m a little worried about… regressing.”

  “You’ve been better this week, well, except for yesterday’s drama. I’m guessing it has to do with her. Are you two going to be able to work together or will it be awkward?”

  “I’m fine,” I mutter, tired of being reminded of my past issues.

  “Yeah, you are fine,” Carson replies, putting his hand on my shoulder. “I think you’re doing great. Maybe this is one of those subjects you can bring up with your shrink. But just so you know, I have complete faith in you. I think you’re on the right track, and whatever there is between you and Emma, you two are adults.”

  “Ah, man. Tell me I’m not fucking up.”

  “So far, you’re not. Do you think we’re going to have a problem with her ex?” Carson is a serious guy, it’s only since he’s married Jessica that we’ve seen the content, cheerful side of him. If he has any concerns about Emma’s ex, Carson will circle the wagons around Hera and protect everyone in the five-mile radius of our little pit stop.

  “That’s what I’m going to find out. I’ll be watching out for this guy like a hawk. We all will.” Carson scowls briefly before he sighs again.

  “We? Who else knows about him?”

  “I mean her friends… and me. She’s in good hands.”

  “Hey, what about a background check on Cooper? That guy annoys the shit out of me.”

  Carson laughs. “Cooper is as clean as they come. Trust me. I like him. He was looking for a new career move, and he’s a hard worker, so stop complaining. Don’t you think he’s kind of funny?”

  “No, he makes me want to punch him.”

  “Ha! You’re just jealous because he flirts with all the women and makes everyone laugh. Lighten up, man. When you and Emma drove up, I saw you smiling. I haven’t seen you do that in a very long time. It’s good to see you smile. We’ll help Emma, don’t worry, and I’m sure you’ll stop Cooper from flirting with her.”

  I’m not worried, Carson. And this time, I’m the one who will be helping Emma.

  Ten

  Emma

  “Dad, I’m fine,” I say into the cheap, prepaid phone.

  I am lounging on the couch, and Dylan is leaning against the hallway wall watching me with his arms crossed, bunching up his thick muscles. He resembles a hit man at this moment. Again, a very sexy one in my opinion.

  “No, Robert didn’t bring anyone,” I tell my dad, looking up at Dylan who is scowling.

  “There was no funny business, Dad.” I want to laugh at my father’s old-fashioned term.

  I listen to my father go on about updates on the business, prospective buyers, and my mother’s condo hunting trip in Florida with my grandmother as I feel Dylan’s unwavering gaze on me.

  His friend fixed my car up with a new tire and then Dylan and Leo picked it up. When Dylan drove up to the house in my car with the new tire, and the spare in place as well as a nice little detail job, my stomach did a little flip. It’s a little act of kindness, yet coupled with his brawny protectiveness, I am beyond comforted.

  When I finish the call, I try to lighten the tense mood a bit. “That went well. My dad has someone interested in buying his company, and—”

  “Why are you using that phone?” Dylan asks. “That’s not your cell phone, at least not the one you usually use.”

  “This is a prepaid phone. My dad gave me a bunch to use when he and I need to talk.” My family isn’t something out of the Sopranos as Dylan seems to think, but we are far from being a Leave It To Beaver type of family. “It’s his idea of a safety precaution. No biggie.”

  “Oh, God, woman. Do you hear yourself? How can your father not be worried about your sleazy ex showing up?”

  “Because I’m living with you. You’ve got my back, right?”

  “Funny, you never mentioned me to your dad. I heard the whole conversation, and you never said a word about where you live.”

  “I’m trying to spare him a secon
d heart attack, okay? One was enough. He doesn’t know you. He thinks I’m staying with Lauren.”

  “And you staying with a skinny cheerleader will give him better peace of mind than me?” Dylan shakes his head and walks slowly over to the couch.

  “It will all work out,” I reply, hoping I’m convincing. I am beginning to worry about Robert’s intentions; either because Dylan is right that I am delusional about continuing to engage in contact with someone like Robert, or because there is something different about Robert that I can’t pinpoint.

  “So you have a stash of these disposable phones to talk to your family, and you have a sleazoid determined to see you. There’s a whole lot of information you’re not telling me, Emma.”

  “It’s part of my old life. Like you, I’m starting fresh.”

  He sits down next to me and leans his forearms on his knees. “Were you involved in anything illicit yourself? Something you’re running from?” His tone is one of concern rather than anger.

  “No,” I snap. “I told you. My family has been victimized; not in a violent way, but we’ve had to pay a small fortune into the crazy-ass system that the law doesn’t do anything about. They either look the other way, bust the small-time scavengers at the bottom, or they’re on the take, too. My family has done what it has to in order to survive, to keep our business afloat, to keep over a thousand people employed, and we don’t have blood on our hands, if that’s what you’re implying.”

  “I never thought your family did; I just had to ask. Carson told me he already knew about your situation when he hired you. He got enough info from Lauren and your dad. It’s good he knows, too. Carson is someone you want to have on your side.” Dylan clasps his hands then pauses, though I know there is more to his speech.