Page 51 of Beating Heart
This city girl is all country.
Then she shouted with the music. “This ain’t Rosewood River. This is Magnolia Falls, so hit the road, asshole.”
The words certainly weren’t the lyrics from the song, though she appeared to try to match Beyonce’s rhythm.
And I didn’t give a fuck. I was too busy staring at the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on.
Emerson Chadwick might be a little bit broken, but she was strong and fierce in every way.
She whipped around, her hair flying all around her, and her eyes widened when she took us in. A big smile spread across her face. “What do you know…? It’s two of my favorite guys.”
“Damn. How’d you get up there with me already?” Her brother chuckled and moved toward the speaker and turned the volume down. “Hey, Emmy, how you doing?”
“I’m doing fan-freaking-tastic,” she said, taking a long sip from the bottle. “But why’d you turn the music down? This is a dance party.”
“I can see that,” he said. “But I was worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” Her gaze searched his before turning to look at me, her voice all tease now. “And were you worried about me, neighbor?”
“You’ve got Beyonce on repeat, and your blinds are closed, and you’re dancing around in a wedding dress.” Easton glanced over his shoulder to see the cupcakes covering her entire counter. “You’ve baked enough cupcakes to feed a small country. Yeah, it’s fair to say I’m worried.”
“You know how much I love Beyonce. And this new album is”—she paused to kiss her fingertips and flung her hand out before shouting—“chef’s freaking kisses!”
“What the fuck is chef’s kisses?” Easton said over his laughter. “Emmy, you didn’t go to work.”
“Easton.” She leaned closer to him, eyes wide. “You’ve missed work hundreds of times. I’ve never called in. Do I not get a pass just this once?”
“Yeah, you get a pass, girl. But I was worried about you.” He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her before pulling back. “You all right?”
“Yeah.” She moved to the couch and plopped down, a puddle of tulle and silk surrounding her. She looked like a little girl sitting that way. “Farah called this morning, and I don’t know… I just felt sad after talking to her. So I put on my dress, because God knows I’ll probably never wear a wedding gown after this fiasco. So I decided to day drink, bake, and dance.” Her words were slurred but coherent.
“You decided to day drink?” He gaped at her with a wicked grin on his face. “You’ve shamed us our entire lives for day drinking. Said it was a waste of time.”
She turned to look at me and patted the seat next to her, and I moved to sit beside her. “He’s referring to my brothers and my cousins. They love to have a good time. And you know what? I was wrong. Day drinking is underrated. I’ve had a damn good day. I drank half a bottle of wine, two shots of whiskey, and this fancy bottle of champagne.”
“That is a recipe for a nightmare hangover. Have I taught you nothing about mixing booze?” he asked, as he moved to the kitchen and poured himself a whiskey and handed me one, as well. “If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”
I laughed and tipped my head back, letting the warm amber liquid move down my throat.
“Ahhh… thank you for joining the party,” she said, before hiccupping three times and then falling back in a fit of laughter.
“What happened with Farah?” Easton asked, sitting in the chair across from us. Emerson had the place looking like something straight out of a magazine. The chair and couch were white, with floral throw pillows and a large area rug.
There were flowers and photos and colorful paintings on the walls. It looked like she’d lived here for years and not weeks. But it didn’t surprise me.
This woman was different.
Special.
Her face hardened, and she set the bottle on the coffee table. “She said it meant nothing. It was a mistake.” Another slew of hiccups escaped. “A six-month mistake. Apparently, that’s how long they were sleeping together. And then she cried and said she missed me.”
I could see the struggle there. The betrayal and the hurt.
“They’re both assholes. They never deserved you. But I know it sucks. I get it, Emmy.” I could feel the empathy pouring from her brother. It was impossible not to see how much he loved her and how much her pain was felt by him. “What can I do for you?”
“That’s the thing, E. I’m not heartbroken, which is weird, right? I dated him my entire adult life, and I’m not heartbroken. I’m angry. I’m disappointed. But the truth is, I feel like I dodged a bullet, and not just because he’s a cheating pig, but because when I look back, I don’t think I was happy these last few years. I think that’s probably why he strayed. Because we were both settling.” She shrugged. “But I wish it would have ended differently. He shouldn’t have disrespected me.” She paused, and no one said anything when she went on. “Even so, I wish we could have all remained friends, you know? And Farah’s betrayal is just a punch to the gut.”
Her hand rested beside mine on the couch, and my pinky finger stroked hers.
