I don’t want her to leave this job because I lost my head when it comes to her.
“Are we going or did you change your mind?” she asks, challenge in her voice.
I lock the front door, pull the key fob from my pocket, and meet her at my car. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”
“Not a chance.” She twists a large silver ring on her thumb. “You can suck up to me for a few years and I might eventually forgive you. But I’ll never forget what you said a minute ago.”
There’s nothing to say at this point. She’s going to fume and I can’t blame her.
“Address?” I back out of the driveway and hit the button to close the garage door.
“Amberlin Apartments,” she says.
She gives me the address and I’m a little surprised. It’s a rough part of town. “You don’t live in student housing?”
“What gave you that idea?”
“I don’t know.” I shift into third gear and the Jag’s engine purrs. There’s a lot I don’t know about her.
“Yeah. All my stripper friends live in the sorority house, but I thought...hey. I’ll be different and live in a cramped little apartment next door to the local drug dealer. You know?”
“I get it, Emerson. You officially hate me.”
She doesn’t say anything for the next ten miles.
Her Icelandic silence chills me. “Come on. You don’t really hate me.”
Still no response as she looks out her window.
Finally, I turn into the parking lot of her apartment. It’s not what I imagined. It’s worse. There’re a couple of guys sitting on the hood of a car near the place she’s pointing to. One holds a paper bag and upturns it to chug while the other laughs so hard he almost falls off the car.
“Park there,” she mutters.
“You live here?” I hate to be so shell-shocked, but I’m uneasy at the thought of her walking from the car to her door, much less living here. “Do you want me to walk you up?”
“Are you kidding me?” She gives me a glare that would make a prison guard back down. “No. I’m fine.”
I shrug and put the car in park. “How are you getting your car?”
She exits the car without a backward glance or another word. I feel like the world’s biggest asshole. There’s a set of stairs she ascends in record time and she disappears inside an apartment.
My head drops against the leather steering wheel. I’ve never acknowledged her past before and I’m not sure why I did today. Jordy leveraged it when he asked us to hire her. He acted like he was saving her from some horrendous fate.
It’s not like I haven’t thought about her feelings. Since we never talk, I assumed a lot.
Before I can change my mind, I hop out of the car and lock it. I glance around at the parking lot and the two guys eyeing my car and me. I’ll be lucky if I still have my rims when I come out.
The apartments are noisy. I can hear people talking in the downstairs unit. I quickly climb the stairs to the second floor and pause at the door, trying to plan what I’m going to say. I’m not good at groveling. But I’m not leaving until she says we’re good.
I rap twice on the door and wait. It takes far too long for her to answer the door. She leaves a safety chain connected and peeks through the gap.
“Why are you still here?” she asks, her brows furrowed together.
“We need to talk. Really talk.”
“What about?”
“Can I come in?”
She frowns. “Say what you have to say.”
I glance back and the two guys are still sitting on the car hood. They’re watching me like I’m some show for them. “Please, Emerson.”
Emerson hesitates and pulls back to unfasten the chain. “I’ve got a few minutes. Then I have to do something.” Her voice is hard.
The apartment is small, but not cluttered. There’s a sofa and a trunk serving as a coffee table. A floor lamp sits in the corner of the room with a large plant underneath it.
She backs up to stand at the threshold to what I assume is the kitchen, as if she doesn’t want to stand too close to me. “What?”
“Why didn’t you call me to come get you?” It’s not what I meant to say.
She shrugs.
I shove my hands deep into my pockets. She’s not going to make this easy. “I called you earlier when I needed help. You could’ve called me.”
“What does that have to do with anything? So, I didn’t call you.”
“We’re friends. You should call me before you get some random guy to—”
She huffs and her eyes spray dragon fire my direction. “Friends. I don’t think so. You are my—you were—my employer. And you just fired your ex-stripper employee. Remember? You must’ve called me this morning because you were embarrassed to call one of your friends. Because I would know all about jail, being an ex-strip—”
I cut her off. “Hold up—”
The front door opens wide and a girl stands in the threshold looking from me to Emerson.
Emerson closes her eyes for a second. “Gabby. You’re home early.”
“Hi,” she says, grinning coyly at the both of us. “I thought the TV was on when I heard all the noise.”
Emerson sighs. “Gabby, this is Dylan. Dylan, my little sister, Gabby.”
“Hi,” I say, studying the similarities between the two girls. Both have dark hair, high cheekbones, and those electric blue eyes. There’s no denying they are related.
But where Emerson gives off a you’ll-have-to-work-for-it vibe, her sister does the opposite. She’s looking at me like she’s undressed me and she likes what she sees.
Gabby licks her lips. I practically hear her purr. “Hi, Dylan. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Emerson narrows her eyes. “Dylan and I are in the middle of a conversation.”
“Don’t mind me,” Gabby says and sets a book on the coffee table.
Emerson throws me an exasperated look. “Are we done?”
“No,” I answer.
Emerson turns and walks down the hallway. “Follow me.”
There are two bedrooms at the end and Emerson turns into the one on the right. She extends a hand to wave me into the room. It’s only large enough for a bed. She closes the door and I’m standing a foot away in the small space that runs the perimeter of the room.
“I forgive you. Okay? Go home.” She looks at me in exasperation.
“Emerson? Emerson? Can you come in here?” Her little sister yells from the living room.
Emerson throws her hands up. “See? Not a good time. I’ll be right back.”
She leaves the room and I take a moment to look around. There’s a shelf on one wall with framed photographs. I pick up the closest one. It’s a younger Emerson in a long beaded dress and a Homecoming Queen sash. She’s holding long-stemmed roses with an extremely large crown perched on her head
I’m blown away. I’ll be damned.
The second frame holds a photo of Emerson and two other girls in cheerleading outfits. The third, a very young Emerson with a man who must be her father. She’s wearing a ballerina costume and is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.