“No, I want you here. It’s not you. You being here tonight is literally the only thing I’m looking forward to. Matter of fact, you are what I look forward to every day. I want to be with you all the time, Em.”
“You say that now, but you don’t know… you don’t know everything yet.”
“Nothing you tell me will scare me away. You can tell me everything when you are ready to talk about it. Right now, I know all I need to. I want to be with you, for real, no pretend. I know you are scared, but you don’t have to be. You won’t lose me. Ever.”
“Clark…”
“I’m begging you to give me a chance. Never in my life have I had to work so hard for a date.” Slightly frustrated, I park the truck in the parking lot of the country club, the drive taking far less time then I wanted it to.
Turning in the seat, Emerson stares at me, one second, then two, then another. I’m pretty sure I’ve scared her away. Fucking Christ. I clench my hand into a fist. I really want to punch the steering wheel right now, but I know that won’t make her want me anymore.
“I’m not like the other girls you’ve been with. There are things you don’t know, things that, when you...when you find them out, I doubt you’ll look at me the same.”
I can’t help my reaction to what she’s just said. “I don’t know for sure what happened, but I’ve drawn my own conclusions and nothing anyone else did to you without your consent would ever change my opinion of you. If you don’t want me then…”
The air in the cab of the truck is too thick, combined with the tux it feels like I’m burning up. I’ve got to get out of here. Reaching for the door handle, I open it, the cool evening air kissing my clammy skin.
“I want you, Clark, but I don’t think you’ll want me when you find out the truth.”
“You want me? That’s all I need to know. Just say yes. Give this a real shot, give us a chance.” I sound like I’m begging and maybe I am, but I don't care at this point. If all it takes is for me to get down on my knees than I’ll do that too. Whatever it takes.
“Okay,” she whispers so quietly I almost don't catch it.
“Okay?”
“Okay, we’ll give this a real shot,” she confirms and all I can do is lean over and kiss her. I go from being frustrated and angry to sitting on cloud nine in all of five seconds. Getting out of the truck, I jog around to the passenger side to help her out.
Clasping onto her hand, I close the truck door and lock it. Every businessperson and partner of my fathers will be here tonight, including Emerson’s dad. If I get the chance, I should talk to him. From the sound of things, Emerson doesn’t have all that good of a relationship with her father, and she’s never mentioned her mother.
“I’m a little nervous,” she admits as we walk across the already packed parking lot the ballet flats she’s wearing barely making a sound. Stopping mid-step, I pull her into my arms and stare down at her. Fuck I could stare at her all day.
“Don’t be. If anyone says something stupid or treats you poorly, we’ll leave. You don’t need to subject yourself to that anymore.” I don’t mean to sound like I’m lecturing her, but I want her to understand that she doesn't have to stand there and take what people say about her.
Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one, but not everyone shows theirs off for the world to see.
She worries her pink plump bottom lip with her teeth. “What if I have an anxiety attack? Or Sarah is here? Or one of your other exes?” I can see the thoughts compounding in her head, stacking up like bricks and I can’t let her go there, to that dark place that she hides to protect herself from fears that aren’t real or don’t matter.
Releasing her hand, I take her face into my hands and swipe my thumbs gently across her cheeks. Then I lean into her face bringing my lips close to hers. Her eyes dilate, and her breath hitches. She’s still with me, good.
“I’m here. Right here. In the flesh. I’ll protect you, and kick anyone’s ass that fucks with you and remember you have a voice of your own. You can say whatever you want, to whoever you want. No one is going to hurt you, they’ll have to go through me before they get that chance.”
Emerson blinks and it’s like the fog of fear surrounding her lifts. Every day I see her getting stronger, her skin growing a little thicker, her fears becoming a distant memory and no fucking way am I going to let her go back in time, let her lose sight of how far she’s come.
She releases an anxious breath and then sucks in another. She does this a few more times, like she’s building up the courage to move forward.
“Okay, let’s do this. I’m ready.”
Nodding, I press a kiss to her nose, and release her, taking her hand into mine again. We cross the rest of the parking lot and walk up the steps of the country club, and into the event area. There are people dressed to the nine, in elegant dresses, and tuxes. Security is posted at the door, but they don’t even spare me a look as I enter without a word, and why would they? My father all but finances this place. I’ll never understand why this is so important to him. Does he really need to make sure everybody knows he has money?
Emerson hooks her arm into mine, her grip tight as if she is scared I’ll walk off. The place is decorated to look intimate with low lighting, and candles on each of the linen-covered tables. It honestly looks more like a five-star wedding is taking place here then a charity event to benefit those with mental illness.
Inconspicuously I scan the room, finding my father almost immediately. If it wasn’t the tux that screams I have money, or identical hair and eye color that gave him away, it would be the obnoxious sound of his voice. He’s talking loudly, basically yelling, well holding up a glass of champagne. A circle of people surrounding him, listening to him like he is the most interesting person in the room. I can attest to that being false. Then he says something, and everybody breaks out into hearty laughter, and I all but roll my eyes.
No way is their laughter real. The man is the least funny guy on the planet. I’m surprised he even knows what a joke is.
“Let’s show our faces to my father really quick. I’d rather get it over with now, so we have the rest of the evening to do whatever we want,” I tell her.
“Okay, I don’t see my father yet.” I don’t miss the relieved tone in her voice, and I wonder if she actually dislikes her father more than I dislike mine. I find it hard to believe, but then again not really. My father’s a mega asshole, but hers has to be just as bad if he just sent her away in the state she was in when we first met.
We walk over to where my father and his entourage are standing, people are moving out of our way, some stare a bit longer than necessary, but no one says anything. They all nod, and wave, like an army that’s been trained to be seen but never heard. My father’s been making me come to events like this for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never brought a plus one before, never felt the need to, so maybe that’s the reasoning for long glances?
Either way, they better avert their eyes soon otherwise we’ll have problems. Gritting my teeth, I swallow down the anger like acid, forcing it away. My father would kill me, strike me dead if I made a scene by punching one of his guests, so I reel it in, and instead plaster a fake as hell smile on my lips. It doesn’t help.