Sarah was shocked. The wine had been good, but not that good. She considered next week’s trip to the grocery store and inwardly cringed at the implications this would have on the month’s budget. Swallowing her pride, she handed the bill to Emory wordlessly, defeated inside and more than a little embarrassed. Emory handed the check and a credit card to the passing waitress and turned back to Sarah. “Really, I’d planned to get this. Money is not an issue for me in the same way it is for most people. It just makes more sense—”
Sarah nodded, the differences in their worlds hitting home. “Well, thank you. But just for the record, I’m not exactly destitute.”
“Of course not. I didn’t mean to insinuate otherwise, but be honest. If I were the architect you’ve been seeing, would you have argued over the check with me?”
“I don’t know, maybe not. But that’s beside the point.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Sarah didn’t respond.
They rode back to her apartment in noticeable silence. Alone with her thoughts, Emory tried to see things from Sarah’s point of view. Even though she didn’t necessarily understand, she knew she should respect Sarah’s feelings. The wine had been a little extravagant, but it was something she’d wanted to share with Sarah. Maybe she had been trying to impress her. Was that such a bad thing? Emory switched off the ignition as they pulled into a parking spot in front of Sarah’s apartment. She turned to face her, intent on smoothing things over between them.
But for the second time that night, Sarah beat her there. “I’m sorry. I overreacted. It’s just tonight, this kind of night, it’s not what I’m used to. But what I know for sure is that I don’t want to fight with you.”
“No, I should apologize. Sometimes I can be a little—” But she didn’t get to finish as Sarah’s mouth captured hers in a kiss that she would stay up half the night reliving. It was the kind of kiss that meant something, promised something, and made Emory want all kinds of somethings. Sarah was all soft lips and sweet taste, just as she’d remembered, and a jolt of heat shot straight through her in response.
Sarah pulled gently away and said nothing for a moment, just tucked a strand of hair behind Emory’s ear and looked softly into her eyes.
Emory swallowed, feeling so much more than she expected to. “I’m bad for you, Sarah,” she managed to whisper.
Sarah held her eyes. “You’re not good at relationships. I remember.”
“I can’t be who—”
Sarah placed a finger softly over her lips. “We had a nice time tonight. Why don’t we leave it there for now?”
Emory nodded, holding tight to Sarah’s words, trying to rationalize more than was probably safe to because falling for her would be colossally stupid.
“Good night, Emory.”
“Good night.”
Sarah walked into her apartment, closed the door, and leaned against it. Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She’d just gone on a successful date with another woman and boldly kissed her in her car. Who the hell was she exactly? She was beginning to understand that she didn’t know the answer to that question anymore, and it was scary and thrilling and scary again for days. While she couldn’t deny that she had taken a lot of enjoyment in the kiss itself, her world felt wildly off-kilter. How, exactly, was she planning on fitting whatever this thing was with Emory into her well-established life? Was there even a chance she could?
*
“Are you going to tell me her name?” Lucy sat opposite Emory on the bench that lined the steam room wall. “I let an entire spin class go by without asking a single question about this mysterious date of yours, just sure you’d think enough of our multi-tiered relationship to tell me yourself, but clearly, I was wrong.”
“I think the world of you, Luce. You’re the peas to my carrots and the apple of my corporate eye. Why would you think otherwise?”
“The peas to your carrots? Did that just come out of your mouth? Someone is in a good mood and it’s definitely not me. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but my best friend has completely shut me out.” Lucy sulked dramatically, slinking further into the terrycloth towel wrapped around her. “I’m guessing it’s something I’ve done. I can’t help but wonder if it’s because we were together, and if that’s the case, I think we’re both way past that, don’t you? I mean I have no problem hearing about you with other women. So if you’re worried about jealousy, stop because—”
“All right, all right, you win!” Emory took a swallow from her bottle of water and decided it was best just to lay it out for Lucy. “Yes, I went on a date last night with someone I’ve been getting to know recently. I didn’t tell you right off because somehow things feel different with her than I’m used to and I just wanted to have it to myself for a little while so I can figure it out. Come to an understanding of things on my own, privately. Make sense?”
“Her name, Owen.”
“Sarah.”
Lucy thought on this for a moment, her eyes finally widening in understanding. “Sarah Montgomery, the attorney from Barrett’s birthday party? Aha. Okay. She was definitely flirting with you that night.”
“What? No. Luce, that woman was predatory. Sarah Matamoros from Immaculate Home.”
Lucy stared back at her blankly.
“Sarah,” Emory emphasized. “From Fleur de Lys, remember?”
It seemed to hit her then and the expression on her face was the same as if Emory had told her Eskimos had taken over Texas. “The cleaning woman?”
“Can we not call her that? I told you, her name is Sarah.”
“Sarah, the hot cleaning woman?”
Emory rolled her eyes. “It’s not like that. Her family owns the business. She handles marketing and occasionally picks up a job or two when they’re busy. You would like her.”
“Yeah, I would. I saw her, remember?”
“Knock it off. I’m serious.”
Lucy softened. “You are serious, aren’t you? You really like her.”
Emory nodded solemnly. “I think I do.”
“Aww, Em. I think that’s great news. I do. If I weren’t your smokin’ hot ex-girlfriend in a towel, I would grab you and hug you right now, but you get it. So instead, I have an even better idea, why don’t you tell me about her?”
Emory couldn’t contain the burst of happy energy she got when her thoughts turned to Sarah. “Well, the best part about her is how much fun she has. Seriously, Lucy, she seems to appreciate everything. Things I always take for granted. Plus, she’s caring, thoughtful, and smart, really smart. Her daughter is quirky and funny too.”
“Whoa. Stop there and rewind. She has a child?”
“Grace. She’s eight. I’ve only met her once, but she’s something else.”
“Yikes. But a kid, Em? Come on, that changes things. Are you sure you know what you’re getting into? Somehow, I just can’t see Emory Owen caught up in a world of bedtime stories and sticky fingers. You’re a lot of things, but warm and fuzzy isn’t at the top of that list. No offense.”
The wind fell drastically from her sails. “Geez. I’d like to say none taken, but ouch. Am I that bad?”
Lucy turned on the bench to face her. “You’re not bad. You could never be that. You just don’t share how you’re feeling very often. When we were together, it was very hard to…feel close to you. It was like just when I had the last wall torn down, you’d build another one. Over time, I just had to accept that this was who you were. And I’m not sure that works with a kid.”
Emory let the information sink in, and though it was a horrible thing to hear about herself, she knew that every word was sadly true. “I know it’s late in coming, Luce, and I don’t know if these are even the right words, but I’m sorry.”
“I know. You did the best you could, and you know what? I truly believe that we’re right where we’re supposed to be. And if you’re serious about this girl, Sarah, then it’s what I want for you too.”