What The Heart Knows (24 page)

You
are an employee of EM Corporation now. Your employment contract
spells out in detail, your responsibilities as an employee.
Including, though obviously not limited to, refraining from being
insubordinate. You may not have received your packages yet, so this
oversight on your part shall be looked over. Once. Your packages
shall be in the mail tomorrow morning.

• JM
  

Emily
pushed back away from the desk, hopping out of her chair and pacing
the small room. Oh, that bastard. That beautiful, clever bastard. Of
course he pulled the boss card. Offuckingcourse. It was the best one
to play. Especially knowing how much she hated not being the one in
charge anymore. Oh how she wanted to reach through that computer
screen and strangle him.

She
left the window open to face when she went back in the morning,
calmer, more level-headed. With a perfectly crafted reply. The kind
she could never manage when she was feeling positively homicidal.

She
burst into the tack room, pulling everything off the walls and
throwing it into the center of the room. Just so she could sort all
of it and put them back in their original places. She needed
something to do. She needed to wear herself and her anger out.

Later,
she threw herself into bed and laid awake most of the night, catching
a few minutes just before it was time to get up, making her wake up
cranky and sore. She showered and dressed, going to the kitchen to
grab coffee.

Inside
she found Meggie and Devon, staring down at a white box with a huge
red bow on top of it. “What's that?” she asked, pouring
her coffee.

“That's
what we could like to know,” Dev said, holding up a note. “It
is addressed to Stars Landing Inn Management.”

Oh,
that fucker.

Emily
walked over to the box, ripping the bow off and throwing it on the
floor. Inside, she found a dozen employment forms and manuals. She
took one out, glancing at it while Dev and Meggie watched on.

After
a long minute, Meggie finally broke the silence. “What is it?”

“Employment
contracts and manuals and whatever,” she said through clenched
teeth. Dev reached for one. “It is Mr. Michaels way of
asserting his authority,” she told them, taking her paperwork
and making her way to the stable.

It
was early for the horses, so she let herself into the office, sitting
down in the office chair and pouring over the documents. There had to
be something there about employee-employer relations. Or something
else she could throw in his face. About fifteen pages in, she found
it.

Mr.
Michaels,

Article
5: Interoffice Relations

Page
2: Management Non-fraternization Policy

Line
10: Anyone employed in a managerial or supervisory role is strictly
forbidden from pursuing relations with employees who report to him or
her. Fraternization described in this policy includes, but is not
limited to: dating, romantic involvement, sexual relations, or close
personal friendships resulting in any kind of favoritism.

Line
15: Anyone caught taking advantage or abusing their supervisory roles
shall face severe punishment up to and including termination of their
employment at EM Corp.

Line
22: It is for the good of the company that these rules be strictly
adhered to.

-
Stars Landing Inn Management

There.
That ought to send him scrambling for another smart-ass reply. He
should have known better than to quote the employment contract and
then send it to her when he was well aware he was in clear violation
of it. True, Elliott Michaels had broken that policy when he started
dating Hannah who was, at the time, his personal assistant. But that
was different. He WAS EM Corporation. He could do whatever he wanted.

James
was just another man on the clock. A one high up in the company,
sure, but an employee none the less. He had to adhere to the same
rules as all the other managers.

Let
him worry that she was going to raise a fit. Call Elliott. Hell, call
HR and make a real headache over the whole situation.

On
second thought, she moved back toward the computer and CC'd Elliott
Michaels on the email as well.

There.
Now it was perfect.

Let
his pretty little face sweat that one out for a while.

She
sat and sipped her coffee, staring numbly at the screen. It was
ridiculous that it had to come to snippy emails. Each of them trying
to get and keep the upper hand. It was juvenile and unnecessary. They
were both adults. They had both had flings before. If he could just
ease up on the boss stuff, they could get along well enough.

Emily
took a deep breath, cringing as she watched herself type his name
into a search engine. She didn't know why she was doing it. She knew
it couldn't all be good. It wasn't like he was some saint. She was
only punishing herself by doing it, but she had to.

She
checked out his information on the EM Corp website. She found him on
social media. He had tons of pictures of different places: white
beaches, mountaintops. RSVPS for events. But no real status updates.
Nothing personal.

Taking
a deep breath, she clicked onto the tab to find the pictures he was
tagged in. And that's when the punishment started.

Because
there were all the updates she needed. Pictures of him at events:
dressed up in expensive suits, arms wrapped around beautiful women.
Beautiful women who had captioned the pictures way too suggestively
for their connections to be innocent. And everything was dated. A
week ago. The day after he left Stars Landing. The picture was of him
in some woman's living room in the early morning light, holding a
coffee mug, wearing his white dress shirt completely opened in the
front and a pair of black boxer briefs, his hair bed sexy.

So
he hadn't wasted any time at all, had he? Jumping into bed with the
first willing body he came across. Emily found herself looking
through the woman's page, knowing she was being a total stalker and
just plain not caring. She was pretty. Of course she was pretty. All
blonde hair and big brown eyes. Big breasts, great ass. She was just
shy of perfect.

Emily
hated her.

The
most recent picture was taken out front of some club opening, James
standing there with the owner, his hand holding that of a tiny
brunette with a huge smile and adoring eyes.

So
that was the way of it. He was back to his old life. Back to man
whoring around. And she was sitting around researching him like some
heartbroken ex-girlfriend. That was not her thing.

Her
thing was never getting attached in the first place. Her thing was
ending it before anyone went stupid and caught feelings. Her thing
was never giving a thought to old flames. Her thing was always
looking on to the next, not dwelling on the past.

So
that was what she was going to do. She powered down the computer,
making a deal with herself that she was not going to check her email
again. If he wanted to talk to her about work, he could call her on
the damn phone like a friggen professional. And until then, she was
going to go back to business as usual.

She
was so completely, absolutely done with James Michaels and his deep
blue eyes and his perfect smile and his insincere promises. Done.
Done. Done.

Twenty

“Yo,”
Dane said, making Emily jump, dropping the pile of books she was
holding.

“What?”
she asked, stooping to grab the books.

Dane
stood back watching her, her hair pulled into a tight ponytail, her
sleeves rolled up. She was taking all the books off of all the
shelves in the sitting room, scrubbing the bookcases with hot soapy
water. “Don't you think you are taking this OCD thing a little
far?”

“I'm
not...”

“You
cleaned those shelves two days ago, Red,” he reminded her.

“So
what?” Emily asked, rolling her eyes. “I like to keep
busy.”

“Yeah,
well... there's keeping busy and there's being fucking manic.”

“Christ,
Dane,” she said, turning with her hands on her hips. “you're
not my father. Or my boyfriend. What do you care?”

Dane
nodded once, rubbing his jaw. “I get it. You hate guys right
now. But you need to deal with that. You're being crazy. I mean I
know you've always had trouble being still, but last night when we
tried to watch a movie with you,” he said, giving her
flashbacks of Meggie, Dev, Dane, and her all piled in Dane's room
upstairs. “you got up eight times. Eight,” he repeated.
“I counted. To wipe the dust off the TV. To open the curtains.
To close the curtains. To check the front desk. To...”

“I
get it. I'm hyperactive,” Emily said, rolling her sore neck.

“It's
not just that,” Dane said, sounding unusually hesitant to speak
his mind.

“What
is it then?”

“You're
being...” Dev started, coming into the sitting room, shaking
his head slightly. “umm... tempestuous.”

Emily
wrinkled her brows up at Dev as he threw himself down on the sofa.

“What
Dev is trying to say,” Dane said, smirking slightly. “is
that you're being a complete bitch and everyone is sick of it.”

Emily
felt her mouth fall open, looking back and forth between her friends.
“What? Seriously?”

“Well...”
Meggie said, peeking in from the hallway. “sort of.”

Emily
had a second of feeling angry at them, only validating their opinion
of her behavior. She never got mad at them.

“Haven't
you noticed that everyone runs away whenever you are nearby? That no
one even bothers to say good morning anymore?” Dev asked.

“Yeah...
you kind of... growled at the last person who talked to you before
you had half a pot of coffee in you,” Dane added.

“That
person was me,” Meggie finished.

Emily
stood there dumbly for a moment, running the images of the past week
or so in her head. They were right. She had been sort of walking
around with a chip on her shoulder. So much for thinking she had been
handling things relatively well. She felt the amusement rising up,
weird, urgent in her belly, making her brace her hand on the wall to
keep herself from doubling over. “Why... didn't... anyone...
tell... me... sooner?” she gasped out between giggles.

Everyone
stood back watching her, their worry lines etching deeper. She looked
like she was completely losing her mind.

“Sorry,”
Emily said, standing back up, rubbing her sore stomach muscles,
wiping her cheeks. “I know I've been off. I'm gonna be better
now. I promise.”

Meggie
and Dev shared a look with Dane who nodded his head toward the door
and they both got up and left. “Alright, Red,” Dane said,
shaking his head. “let's go drink about it, huh?”

He
put a hand at her lower back as they walked down the street toward
the bar, an old habit he hardly even realized he did. It was
something she used to consider comforting, but found it suddenly
possessive and inappropriate.

“This
place never changes,” Emily said, looking at the artwork on the
walls from way before she was old enough to start drinking there.
Awful, ugly old things. The floors were dull and scuffed, the tables
and chairs all looking worn down and mismatched.

“About
that,” Dane said, slipping behind the bar, elbowing the younger
bartender out of the way. He was so in his element there. Natural.
Like he had always been. He reached onto the back bar to grab a
bottle of gin, his black and red tattoos somehow darker and more sexy
in the low light. He poured gin into two rocks glasses, tossing her a
slice of lemon and leaning down on the bar. “Mo is letting me
buy in.”

“To
the bar?” Emily asked, throwing back the liquid and taking a
bite of the lemon. “How can you afford that?” Dane looked
down at the drink he was swirling in his hand and Emily realized he
actually looked embarrassed. “Where'd you get the money, Dane?”

He
shook his head. “You're never gonna let me live this down,”
he said, still unable to meet her eye. “In California... I
might have done some... modeling.”