Best Dating Rules: A Romantic Comedy (The Best Girls Book 2) (33 page)

Maybe he could manage to avoid dancing with Becca. If not, he could at least refuse to speak while they danced. His first partner was one of the younger alumni. He was shocked when she danced much closer to him, repeatedly rubbing her body against his.

“Spencer.” He heard the teacher’s amused voice over his shoulder. “Now you see how you really dance the tango. It is the dance of love. Don’t look so frightened.”

He recovered from his shock enough to finish the dance and moved to the next partner, who was an older woman, a newbie, like him. He was grateful her dancing was much more tame in comparison to the first girl.

Then Becca was in his arms.

“Spencer?” Her eyes were wide and innocent, but he didn’t believe it for a second. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking dance lessons.”

She danced with him like the other younger girl had, maybe even more suggestively. “Spencer, let’s get together after class. I’ve got some great moves to show you.” She twirled in his arms and lifted her leg high, totally exposed by the slit in her dress. Then she pushed her body against his and slid down his leg, before rising again just as suddenly to fling her arms around his neck. He flinched and closed his eyes, as she pressed her lips to his.

“What are you doing?” He peeled her arms away and gave her a furious shove. “What are you doing?”

“Only the tango.” She pushed her lower lip out in a pout. “But we could do more, if you want.” She lifted her arms toward him.

“Stop it, Becca. I’m not interested in anything you’re offering.”

“What do you mean?” Her voice was indignant. “I’m talking about dancing the tango. What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything. I’m telling you straight out I’m not interested in you. I’m in love with Emily.”

“I don’t know what you see in that skinny witch!” she spat out.

He felt rage building inside and struggled to control himself. Other people on the dance floor had stopped to listen to the angry exchange. How he wanted to punch her in the face. But instead, his voice trembling with rage, he told her, “You aren’t worthy to be in the same city with her. Not even to be in the same state or country!”

He spun around and stomped out the door. His dance lessons were over.

Emily tried to concentrate on the little ball she was supposed to hit with her racquet. But the noises were so loud, echoing in the room, bouncing off the walls, reverberating in her head. With every loud bang of the ball on the racquet or hitting the wall, she flinched, closing her eyes. Invariably, she swung and missed, often being pummeled by the ball as it bounced off the wall. She wanted to curl up into a small lump and hide in the corner.

Josh shook his head as she jumped and squealed, rubbing her leg where the ball had bruised her. “Emily, I don’t think this is working. Tell me again. Why are you trying to learn to play racquetball?”

“Because I thought Spencer and I could play together if I learned how.”

He chuckled. “Why is it you’re always injuring yourself in an effort to please Spencer when it’s absolutely unnecessary?”

“That’s not true,” she said, annoyed at the petulance in her voice.

“But it is true. Did he ask you to learn how to play racquetball?”

“No.”

“So, it was all your idea. Right?”

“No. Charlie suggested it.” His face contorted with pain, and she regretted saying her sister’s name. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to talk about her.”

He grimaced. “As much as it hurts, I’m still hungry to hear about her. Is she... Is she okay? Is she dating someone else? I really need to know.”

“Josh, I shouldn’t talk about her.”

“Please,” His eyes dropped, and his shoulders slumped in defeat. “She won’t talk to me or write me back. Does she hate me that much?”

“Josh. I’m so sorry. She doesn’t hate you. But I told you she might not give you a chance. I know it’s not fair.”

“So, you think I should simply forget about her? Move on with my life?” His face was incredulous, as if the very idea was preposterous.

“Probably so. I don’t think there’s much chance she’ll change her mind. At least not as long as you’re separated by half a country”

“Will you promise me something?”

“Sure, if I can.”

“If she ever moves here, even if it’s a year or two from now, will you tell me?”

“Sure, Josh. But don’t you think you’ll have another girlfriend by then, or maybe even be married?”

His eyes met with hers and held them fast in a piercing gaze. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not giving up hope unless I find out she’s married to someone else.”

She broke off from his intense regard. “Okay. I don’t think that’s wise, but it’s your life.”

“So I have a great idea. Instead of staying here and collecting more bruises, why don’t I walk you back to your place? You can tell me why you think you need to learn how to play a sport for Spencer, and I can talk you out of it before you kill yourself.”

“Do you really think I’m that hopeless?”

“You’re far from hopeless, but you need to pick a quieter sport. And whatever it is, you need to wear padding from head to toe. You just get hurt too easily.” His green eyes danced with laughter. “And after I convince you not to hurt yourself anymore, you can tell me a few stories about Charlie. I only want to hear what she’s doing. Tell me about her rafting, about her signing up for classes and what she’s going to take. I’ll be happy with any news at all. I’m starved for it.”

“Okay,” she agreed, secretly happy her racquetball career had met an early demise.

Spencer paced in the lobby of Emily’s building. He’d gone straight from the dance class, hoping to talk to her. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to tell her. He still hoped to surprise her at the wedding, so he couldn’t really reveal the events of the evening. But he felt almost dirty at the memory of Becca’s touch, and his ears burned from her remark about Emily. He just needed to hold her. He needed to tell her he loved her. He’d said it before. Hadn’t he? He wasn’t sure. But Gherring had warned him he could lose her. He needed to reassure himself. And he needed to reassure Emily.

But when he’d arrived at her apartment, she wasn’t home. And she hadn’t been upstairs at her parents’ place. And she hadn’t answered her phone. So he decided to wait for her. He’d wait as long as it took—all night if he needed to. And so, he paced.

He heard her voice before he saw her face. Her laughter rolled through the lobby. His heart lifted at the sound.

“Emily!” He turned toward the door with a longing smile. But the smile melted from his face when he saw whom she was with. “Josh.”

“I can explain,” she cried, rushing to him. “Josh was teaching me to play racquetball.”

“It’s okay. You’re free to date him if that’s what you want.” He didn’t mean those words, but he was so angry he could barely control himself.

“This wasn’t a date.” Tears spilled from her eyes.

“Look Spencer. I promise I wasn’t trying to make a move on Emily.” Josh reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off.

“You know what? It’s been a long night, and I’m going home. We can talk tomorrow.” To his intense embarrassment, he felt tears building in his eyes. He wanted to say something more. To clear the air. To hold her and kiss her and somehow make up. To begin again. But instead, struggling to hide his wet face, he hurried to the lobby exit and slipped into the warm night air.

“Emily, I’m so sorry. I should’ve known. I would’ve been just as jealous. I was so bent on hearing about Charlie I didn’t think about what might happen.”

“It’s not your fault. I knew he was upset the last time we were together. I should have asked Steven to teach me, instead.”

“He’ll be okay tomorrow. We didn’t do anything wrong. Deep down, he knows that. He’s only being a guy, you know.”

“I know. It’s just so stupid—and all for nothing. I was terrible at racquetball.”

“Uhmm, yes. You were pretty bad.” He bit his lips trying not to laugh. “I’m sorry, I really am. Look, I’m going to text him and explain the whole thing.”

“That’s not your responsibility.”

“Of course it is. What if he says something to Charlie? I can’t afford a single black mark in her book, even a false accusation could mean the difference between a slim chance and none at all.”

“Okay. I’m going to try to call him. But Josh, thanks for trying, anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’ll be fine. Eventually. After we talk.”

Josh departed while Emily rode the elevator up to her apartment. Before she’d managed to fumble her way into the apartment with her gym bag, her phone beeped with a message. She ripped her phone from her purse, anxious for a word from Spencer. But the message was from an unknown caller. Curious at who might be texting her, she opened the message and was immediately confronted with a picture.

The image made her stomach contract, and she felt bile rising in her throat. Spencer, with his eyes closed, embracing a girl in a sexy black dress. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, and they were kissing. Unable to tear her eyes away, she enlarged the photograph. It was unmistakable. The girl was Becca. And the picture was taken tonight. Spencer had been wearing the same clothes in the lobby.

Her heart broke cleanly into a million tiny pieces.

Spencer didn’t ge
t
far. He walked for about twenty minutes, trying to clear his head. Why was it always Josh? Maybe it really was an innocent thing—she’d said something crazy about learning to play racquetball. But he really didn’t trust Josh. He seemed to be really in love with Charlie, but what if he gave up and decided to go after Emily again? How could he ever compete with Josh, the handsome, athletic doctor?

Then he got a text. He pulled out his phone, hoping it was from Emily. But the text was from Josh.

Spencer, Emily wanted to learn a sport so she could play with you. She said you play basketball every night. She thought if she could play racquetball, you would spend more time with her. She said it was Charlie’s idea. I was only trying to teach her. That’s all. Josh P.S. If you stay mad at her over this, you deserve to lose her.

What was he doing? He loved Emily. He didn’t want to lose her. He had to swallow his pride and go back to her apartment to talk to her. He had to tell her he loved her. Clearly. In no uncertain terms. He could tell her he was giving up basketball. He’d saved enough money he didn’t need to park cars any more, and he wasn’t going back to dance lessons after tonight. He could make do with the lessons he’d already taken.

It was only nine o’clock. They had plenty of time to talk it out. They might even have a nice kissing make-up session. He allowed himself a little smile at this thought. Why did love have to be so hard? A few minutes earlier, he’d felt like his life was over. He couldn’t think rationally where Emily was concerned. She made him happier than he’d ever been. But she also made him crazier than he’d ever been.

Once he made the decision, he couldn’t get there fast enough. He found himself jogging down the street toward her complex. He rushed into the lobby and onto the elevator, pushing the button multiple times in an effort to hurry it along. He exited on her floor and almost knocked someone down in his hurry to reach her apartment. Then, with his heart still racing, he knocked on the door.

Emily stared in shock at the picture as a sob escaped her throat. She felt a blackness closing in on her. The image swam before her eyes as her tears shimmered and fell onto her shirt. She had to go. She couldn’t stay here, but she had nowhere to go. If she were home in Texas, she would get in her car and drive until her head cleared. But she wasn’t home. She was in New York City. So she headed to the only place she could think to go… Grand Central Station.

She turned off her phone as she walked to the subway station. There was no one to talk to. The only people she knew to call—her mom, Charlie, Grace—would all side with Spencer. They’d defended him every time she talked to them. “Spencer loves you,” they’d said. “He just hasn’t told you. He won’t ever break up with you. He would never leave you.” How wrong they’d all been.

He’d obviously come to the apartment to break up with her, having just been with Becca. Her stomach churned as she pictured him kissing her. She remembered Becca’s words, “He always comes back to me.” She would never have believed Becca, now she knew the truth about her. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t think of a single innocent scenario that would result in the picture she’d been sent.

He’d acted angry about Josh, but he was probably glad to have an excuse to break up with her. Maybe he was tired of her restrictive rules. Or maybe he realized he preferred a more voluptuous figure.

She rode the subway to Grand Central, and found an unoccupied bench to sit on. Unseeing, she stared at the people herding past her like busy ants, on their way to do important things. They exuded excitement and happiness, while she felt lonely and desolate. She reveled in her wretchedness, letting her tears fall freely down her face, amazed someone could be so alone in the midst of the New York City crowd. No one noticed her crying on the bench as they hurried past her to their destinations. She was as isolated as she would have been on a desert island.

After midnight, the crowds were thinning, and she needed to find a place to go. But she couldn’t go home. The only person who might be on her side was Josh. He’d understand her misery. On their walk home from racquetball, he’d actually broken down in tears over Charlie. He’d been angry and embarrassed over his loss of control, but she’d sworn never to tell anyone. Josh would understand, but he was scheduled to work in the emergency room all night. Still, instinct drove her to go to the hospital. She could talk to him when he got off work in the morning. She left the haven of her bench, and headed to the subway train.

Spencer knocked on the apartment door, shifting from foot to foot, knowing she’d look through the peephole before she opened the door. When she didn’t answer, he knocked louder. She was probably angry, refusing to open the door, denying him the opportunity to talk to her. He knocked again, louder still. “Emily!” he said. “Please! I just want to talk to you.” Still no answer. He put his ear against the door, but detected no sound from inside the apartment.

He pulled out his cell phone and called her, but it went straight to voice mail. She’d apparently turned her phone off, and she wasn’t home. With dread, he realized she must have gone upstairs to her mom’s apartment. He had no other choice but to find her and talk to her, even if it meant facing her parents.

He rang the bell at the Gherring’s apartment, wondering belatedly if he should have called first. When Gherring opened the door, his face was creased with concern. “Spencer? What are you doing here?”

“I’m... I need to talk to Emily. Is she here?”

“No, we haven’t heard from her tonight. She’s probably out with friends, although it’s late for a weeknight. She wasn’t with you tonight?”

“No, I was at a dance lesson. My last dance lesson.” He didn’t bother to hide his bitterness.

Spencer’s mind was reeling. Who would she go to? She didn’t have many friends in the city. Maybe she left with Josh. Or maybe she was with Grace. “Uhmm, okay. Sorry to bother you.”

Back at her apartment he knocked again, in a vain hope she would answer. Then he leaned his back against the door and banged his head against it in frustration before he let himself slide down to the floor. He pulled out his phone, and called Grace.

“Hey, Brother. What’s up?”

“Is Emily with you?”

“What? No. Why would—”

“Have you heard from her?”

“No. What happened? Did you have a fight?”

“No. Well, sort of. She was coming back from playing racquetball with Josh, and I saw them together in the lobby and kind of lost it. So I stormed out. But I came back thirty minutes later, and she was gone. And she’s turned her cell phone off.”

“She’s probably upstairs.”

“I checked already. I think she must have left with Josh.”

“I doubt it. Josh and Brad are on the night shift in the emergency room tonight. You could call, I guess, but he won’t answer his phone if his shift has started.”

“Where could she be?”

“I don’t know, but if you got her upset, she might be walking around on the street somewhere.”

“But that’s not safe.”

“Seriously? This is Emily we’re talking about. Since when do you think she wouldn’t do something hazardous? She’s cautious and afraid about things that are actually safe, and totally oblivious with actual danger, like she doesn’t have any common sense.”

He groaned at the constriction in his chest. She could be walking around in a daze by herself on the streets of New York City at night. “What should I do?”

“I take it she’s not answering her phone?”

“She turned it off, unless it’s dead.”

“You call Charlie and see if she has any ideas. And give Josh a call, in case he hasn’t started his shift yet. I’ll call Brad, too. And I guess you’d better wait there in case she comes back. She’ll probably walk back inside any time now, and you can straighten this whole thing out. But you better let me know the minute she comes back, because I’m really worried.”

He disconnected, attempting to tamp down the feeling of dread in his stomach. Gherring’s words kept coming back to haunt him. “I almost lost her. I don’t want you to make the same mistake.” He hadn’t even talked to Charlie or taken her grandmother’s ring to the jeweler yet. He’d lost her before he even purchased the ring. He felt the small lump of the little ring box wedged in his front pocket. He’d thought he might have a chance to go to the jeweler today on the way to dance class, but found it closed.

He pulled the box out, opening the lid and gazing at the old-fashioned ring. He imagined how it would feel to have Emily’s actual engagement ring, to give it to her, to see it on her hand. He tried the ring on himself, but it would barely slide onto his little finger. It was a sweet, old-fashioned setting. There was one central round diamond in a gold carved background that made it appear as a flower. On the side, going down the band were tiny little round diamonds, four on each side. It was probably only half a carat in total, but it would add nicely to the diamond he intended to buy for her. If he ever got the chance.

He tucked the ring safely back into his pocket and called Charlie.

Josh was exhausted. The emergency room had been extraordinarily busy, probably because it was a full moon. Everyone said the full moon brought out the crazy people. There were stabbings and gunshot wounds, car accidents, women giving birth. One guy, who’d gotten his hand stuck inside a glass jar, had to wait for four hours because there were so many other more pressing emergencies.

He and Brad walked back to the residents’ room to retrieve their things. When he turned on his phone, he found several phone messages and texts.

Brad, who was checking his phone simultaneously, said, “Emily’s missing. Did you get a text about her?”

“Yes, and I think I know where she is.”

“Where?”

“She left me a message to pick her up in the maternity ward waiting room.”

“Are you kidding me? She’s been here all night? We better let everybody know. They’re all crazy worried.”

“No, don’t. Not yet. Her text is begging me not to tell anyone where she is. Let’s go talk to her first.”

When they reached the waiting room, they spied her at once, curled up on a hard plastic loveseat, asleep, with her head resting awkwardly on her purse.

Josh sat down next to her and gently shook her awake while Brad stood by, watching.

“Hey. What on earth are you doing here? Everybody’s worried about you.”

She frowned and spoke grumpily as she sat up, stretching her stiff limbs. “I saw their texts last night. I sent a text to Mom and Grace and Charlie and told them I was safe and not to worry. And I already called work and left a message I’d be out today because I’m not feeling well.”

“And then what? You turned your phone back off and spent the night here?”

“Yes. I didn’t have any other place to go.”

“Look Emily, I sent him a text and explained about racquetball. He’s not mad anymore. He’s going crazy looking for you.”

He glanced up at Brad who rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Women!”

But her eyes filled with tears that began to roll down her cheeks, rewetting the salty streaks that had previously dried there. She silently took out her cell phone and turned it on, ignoring all the new messages. She opened a photo and handed it to Josh.

He recoiled in astonishment at the image on the screen. “Okay. That looks bad, but there has to be an explanation. That could have been taken last year.” He handed the phone to Brad whose eyes bugged as he let out a low whistle.

“That’s what he had on last night. It’s the same clothes. The picture was taken yesterday.”

“Okay. But still, there’s got to be a reasonable explanation,” Josh insisted.

“Can you think of one?” Her voice was dead.

“Uhmm... I don’t know. Brad? You got anything here?”

Brad shrugged and returned the phone.

“Still, your whole family’s worried about you now. They asked both of us to tell them if we found you.”

“Please, don’t!” She looked up through wet lashes.

Josh stood and walked to the hallway, speaking with Brad in a low voice. “What do we do?”

Brad pulled out his phone. “I forwarded the picture to my cell. I’m going to send it to Spencer.”

“Only to Spencer? Not Grace or Charlie?”

He shook his head. “Just him. As guys, we owe him that much. We can’t let him get blindsided with this, no matter what he did. Let’s take her to our apartment and let her crash on the couch while we’re sleeping. We’ll make her send out one more I’m safe message. Tell everyone she’s spending the day in Central Park. When she wakes up and she’s good and ready, she can leave on her own.”

Spencer was sitting stubbornly in the hallway outside Emily’s apartment where he’d spent the night, listening to Anne and Gherring arguing with him.

“It’s ridiculous for you to stay here waiting,” said Gherring. “I can’t believe you slept out here all night. She obviously found a place to stay last night. And, she’s already called in sick to work. So she probably won’t be back anytime soon.”