Emory had noticed Sarah more and more as they’d gotten to know each other, but seeing her outside of work, wearing a black and blue cocktail dress that hugged her in all the right places was another story. She looked stunning. She’d worn her hair down, and the dress showed just enough to completely entice, yet withhold. Seeing Sarah in this whole new light had Emory’s mind in overdrive. Slow down, she reprimanded herself. Sarah is your very straight employee who, as such, needs to remain in the do-not-imagine-naked column.
Lucy shot Emory a questioning look and followed her gaze to the nearby table. “So this woman does work for you?”
Emory accepted the bill from the waiter. “Right, I told you that.”
“In what capacity? Your taxes, investments, what are we talking here?”
Emory met her gaze. “She’s from the company I hired to sort out Mother’s house.”
Lucy’s eyes widened in shock and she turned around to steal another glance at Sarah. “She’s your cleaning woman? That’s your cleaning woman?”
“Please lower your voice, but yes,” Emory answered, somewhat annoyed.
“As in, the dancing cleaning woman?”
“Yes.”
“Wow. Suddenly, my house could use a little touch up.” Lucy stole another glance.
“Shut up. Let’s get out of here.” Emory signed the slip of paper and returned it to the leather bound book, leaving a generous tip for the superb service.
Sarah watched Emory’s retreating form and followed the gentle sway of her hips as she and her companion exited the restaurant. She was curious as to where they’d go next, what the rest of their evening entailed. A moment before they’d disappeared around the corner, Emory turned back and offered her a slight wave, her eyes lingering on Sarah for a moment. It wasn’t until they were gone that Sarah remembered she should probably breathe.
*
James held Sarah’s hand as he walked her to the door of her apartment. “I had a great time tonight. If it’s possible, I think I enjoyed tonight even more than our first date.”
Sarah was feeling bold. “Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”
His face lit up. “I’d love a cup, if you’re sure you don’t mind.”
She squeezed his hand. “Of course I don’t mind. Come on in.”
Sarah didn’t invite too many people over outside of Carmen and her family, but you know what, maybe that should change.
“This is a nice space you have here.” James looked around while Sarah put the coffee on. The two-bedroom apartment, though small, had been decorated with care. Grace’s artwork adorned the refrigerator, and matching sky blue curtains hung serenely from each window. A comfy couch and an overstuffed accent chair made the living room the perfect locale for TV watching and late night reading.
“Thank you. It’s home to us.”
He picked up a framed photo from the end table. “This must be Graciela.”
“Yep. That’s my little monster.” She came up behind him laughing at the goofy photo of Grace in an oversized business suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. “Her Halloween costume last year. She was a stockbroker.” James raised his eyebrows in amused curiosity. She waved him off. “During her finance phase. She was watching a little too much CNN with my dad that fall. In the past now. You’re currently joining us in the midst of a swimming phase for which we blame The Little Mermaid, and I do mean blame.”
“I see.” He chuckled. “I look forward to meeting her one day.”
Sarah was warmed. “Me too.”
It was a nice moment, and James took hold of the opportunity and leaned down, brushing her lips with his. When she responded, he kissed her harder, and it wasn’t long before they eased slowly to the couch. She placed her open palms on his chest, enjoying the warmth beneath her hands. It had, for damn sure, been a while since she’d allowed herself to be kissed. It was nice. Their pace was even, non-threatening, and she liked how comfortable James made her feel. He nudged her ever so gently and Sarah leaned back, her head against the sofa cushion. James followed her down, the coffee forgotten. She closed her eyes giving herself permission to surrender to the moment. She had no intention of sleeping with James so early in their relationship, but a little make out session on the couch certainly couldn’t hurt. James seemed to respect her boundaries and didn’t push things any further than she was comfortable with, following her cues nicely. Gradually, she pulled her lips from his. “This was nice,” she whispered.
He smiled at her through labored breaths. “More than nice.”
Pushing herself to a seated position, she straightened her dress and ran a hand through unruly hair. “Can I get you that cup of coffee?”
He stood. “I think I’ll pass, if that’s all right. You’ve given me enough to keep me awake tonight as is.”
She laughed at the overly tortured look he flashed her.
“I’ll call you soon,” he said and kissed her gently before heading off into the night. She closed the door and walked back into the room smiling, taking her time getting ready for bed. As she slipped between the cool sheets, she thought back on the evening with James and how enjoyable it had been. She replayed the events of the date over again in her mind. Without warning, her thoughts drifted slowly to Emory, and she wondered what she was doing. Had she and the other woman gone home together? Had Emory kissed that woman just as she had kissed James?
As she faded into slumber, images of her and James kissing passionately on her couch shifted behind her eyelids until they were replaced with images of Emory and the other woman, their lips pressed together, legs intertwined. Her stomach did a series of flip-flops at the thought of Emory kissing that woman, touching her. Those images continued to play out in her mind until eventually, it was no longer the brunette’s body pressed up against Emory’s, but her own. Sarah bolted upright in bed, startled at her body’s overt and powerful reaction to the image. She stared at the black room around her for several minutes, slowly understanding, for the first time, her extreme attraction to Emory Owen.
Chapter Six
Emory watched the burly moving men hustle about her mother’s house carrying furniture and boxes all precisely labeled and tagged with the proper destination. The men seemed organized and on task, another testament to Sarah’s supreme direction of the project. Emory leaned against the wall in the living room and watched as her family’s life literally passed by in front of her eyes. Sarah stood in front of the house directing traffic. They hadn’t spoken since running into each other at the restaurant, other than a polite hello as Emory arrived on site that day. In actuality, she’d wanted to stop by the house several times that week, but work had been insane, and by the time she was free, Sarah had surely already gone home to Grace. However, when Sarah called to inform her that the movers were coming and today would be her last day of work, Emory had taken the afternoon off to be on hand. Everything seemed to be under control, and it was clear Sarah had a much better handle on the situation than she did.
Emory walked slowly from one room to the next, overwhelmed by a profound sense of sadness. While it was true her memories of her childhood home were fairly sterile, it was still the end of an era, and she couldn’t help but feel utterly alone in that moment. She stood in what used to be her bedroom, a room she hadn’t so much as set foot in since she was maybe nineteen.
“It must be very hard,” said a voice from behind.
She turned to find Sarah watching her from the doorway. She brushed a stray tear from her cheek and exhaled slowly. “We have to quit meeting like this. You know, you dancing, me in the midst of my emotional breakdowns. You’re never going to believe this, but I am not a crier.”