Worth the Fight (Accidentally on Purpose) (15 page)

“Are you having a good time?” I asked her as we walked to dinner.

Her smile was genuine, but the tension was still there. It was like she was waiting for the bottom to drop out from under her.

“I am,” she said. “I haven’t had a real date night since…well since we were…together.” She cleared her throat in a lame attempt to cover her discomfort.

“We should make this a ritual. We should have a date night at least once a month.”

If she said Oh again I was going to pull a Lucas and sit down on the sidewalk and wait for someone to pick me up.

“You owe me a date on the boardwalk, buddy,” she said, poking my arm.

Dozens of needle like pains pierced my chest. The day Emmy and I broke up we were supposed to go to the boar
dwalk, ride some rides, play some mini golf, eat greasy, sugary, messy food and frolic on the beach like a happy couple. The Friday before our date, I was in the file room on my floor at Sterling Corp. The room had rows and rows of files. Sometimes if someone was working quietly at the back of the room, you didn’t even know they were there until they either spoke up or showed themselves. I was working at the very back, not caring if anyone knew I was in there or not.

“I don’t understand,” I heard Lynn, one of the clerks say as she entered the room. I didn’t know who she was talking to and didn’t care until I heard my name. “She’s fucking him right under Luke’s nose. He’s either extremely thick headed or he just doesn’t care.”

“It’s not possible that he doesn’t know,” I heard my own secretary Tracy say. “How can he not know? Everyone else knows. Carol saw Emmy and Mr. Sterling making out in a Walmart parking lot of all places and other people have seen them out together from time to time. And Harriet, you know Harriet – Huge Ass Harriet?”

“Oh, yeah. She works up there with them, right?”

“Yeah. Huge Ass Harriet said their relationship may as well be broadcasted on national television. They fight out in the open in front of the staff sometimes, and
sometimes
Emmy comes out of his office with that just-fucked look. Then she comes up here and smiles at
my
boss and putting her lips on him and pretending that everything is so perfect.”

“There’s no way he doesn’t know,” Lynn said. “She’s pretty and I heard she’s good at her job, but that can’t be why he stays with her. I don’t understand how he can stay with her knowing someone else is hitting it.”

“Maybe he’s in denial,” Tracy had said, hitting a little closer to the truth. “Maybe he really loves her and he’s just hoping for the best.”

“The best he’s gonna get is a broken heart,” Lynn said. “Ahh, here’s the file Vince needed. I told him it was here. I swear that this company needs to make people do a basic skills test before they’re hired.”

The door closed and I was left alone to deal with my denial.

I blinked out of the memory.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go,” I said to Emmy nearly two years later.

A little while later we were sliding into a booth at the Hard Rock. We ate dinner at the Hard Rock in Atlantic City on our first date.

“Does this remind you of anything?” I asked her as I picked up my menu.

She hid her face behind her menu before speaking. “It reminds me of a lot of things.”

I wanted to ask her if she remembered practically tearing my clothes off that night on my couch. I wanted to know if she remembered writhing under me and screaming my name. I wanted to know if she remembered how it felt to be so deeply, physically connected that we became one fluid entity. I wanted to ask her if she loved me right away like I loved her right away. Did she know that I loved her the moment I saw her in her cleaning clothes and pink gloves?

The waitress appeared at our table before I could say anything to Emmy.

“Two Irish Car Bombs,” I said to her before Emmy could speak up.

“I was just going to get a cola,” she said slowly.

“A cola?” I asked incredulously. “A cola? Since when did you drink girly drinks like…
cola
?” I said the word with disdain.

“Since I got pregnant and subsequently had a child to breastfeed,” she argued.

“Your breasts…” I let my gaze settle on her chest for a moment. “Haven’t been food for Lucas for months.”

“Well, still…” she said, visibly uncomfortable with the conversation. “I’m a fulltime mom and part time miracle wor
ker at Kessler, Keane & Associates. I’m also a fulltime…whatever it is I am to you. Housekeeper and Organizer Extraordinaire.”

“Emmy,” I said, looking at her with seriousness. “You are more to me than a housekeeper and organizer.”

She looked at me and I swear it looked like she was holding her breath.

“You’re also a cook, a time keeper, a fancy ironer and…” I laughed as she threw her menu at me.

Our drinks arrived and we gave the waitress our orders. I started on my drink while we chatted. Emmy often looked at hers but made no move to touch it. What the hell was she afraid of? It was beyond obvious she needed it. She was trying to act naturally, but I could see her pulse racing in her jugular and her hands twisted and untwisted her napkin so tightly that her knuckles were white.

“Drink up,” I finally said once I finished my own drink.

“This is going to hit me like a pile of rocks,” she said, staring at the drink.

“It will loosen you up a little.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you calling me uptight?”

Uptight was an understatement, but I said nothing. We sat there staring each other down, wordlessly daring the other to look away first. I watched with alarm as I watched what could only be described as panic take over in her eyes. She looked like she was suffocating as she began to tear her napkin to shreds.

I reached across the table and stilled her hand by taking it into mine. “Hey. Are you okay?”

It was obvious that the action of taking her hand had only made things worse. I didn’t understand it. I was boggled. Did she secretly hate me? Or was it something else?

Suddenly she pulled her hand out of mine and picked up her drink. She stared down at it for a moment, as if she felt intimidated by it. After a deep breath, she put the glass to her lips and tilted her head back. I couldn’t stop the grin from forming on my face as she chugged the drink. The glass slammed down on the table as Emmy made a face – something I had never seen her do before. With the alcohol still burning in her throat, she waved the waitress over and ordered two more drinks, plus shots of Hennessey.

I clapped my hands together, happy to see that my old Emmy showed up for dinner.

The drinks kept coming. Em seemed to have been making up for all of the drinking she didn’t do before. Her tongue loosened and the tension seemed to all but melt away from her body.

“Do you know what it’s like to wash the underwear of the guy you have a baby with but you’re not sleeping with?” she asked after another countless shot.

“No, I do not know what that is like,” I laughed. “I’m not that kind of guy.”

She giggled. “Right. That makes sense.”

“So, tell me what it’s like? You don’t like my underwear?” I teased.

“I love your underwear. I’m just always amazed that boxer briefs can contain that monster.” She realized what she said and clapped a hand over her mouth as she laughed with wide eyes.

The ‘monster’ twitched and challenged that assessment.

“You know you don’t have to wash my underwear,” I said to her after she stopped laughing.

“I know,” she said after taking a drink from her beer. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“I wish you would,” I muttered.

“I like taking care of you,” she said with a small smile. “It makes me feel useful and…I like the look on your face when you eat something I made. I like seeing you look very dapper in the dress shirts I ironed. I like the way you smell when you come out of the shower using the body wash I selected for you. I like tying your ties and laying out your clothes. I liked getting your firm in order and watching you work.” She was staring at her drink and biting on her bottom lip.

I stared at her in disbelief. She loved me. I heard it in her voice. I wasn’t assuming she loved me just because she took care of me. She took care of me
because
she loved me. She didn’t have to do any of it. She could have hired someone to come in and clean. She could have let my clothes pile up until I ran out of dirty underwear. She could have left me on my own for my meals and let me get to work late and look a damn mess. But she didn’t. She loved me.

She laughed softly as she blinked back to the present. “I’ll bet it was your full intention to get me drunk and make me say things I wouldn’t normally say.”

“Oh, baby you didn’t used to need alcohol to speak your mind,” I reminded her.

Her smile faded some and she looked a little uncomfort
able. She put a hand to her chest and took a few deep breaths, as if she were trying to ease some anxiety. It knocked me down just a little, to see that she was still feeling anxious. She swallowed the rest of her drink. When she tried to get the waitress’s attention again, I put her hand down.

“I think you’ve had quite enough, drunkard,” I said. “B
esides, I already paid the bill.”

“You started this drunk fest!” she objected, but grabbed her purse and began to slide out of the booth.

When she stood up, she swayed and started to lose her footing. I caught her and put my arm around her waist and lead her out of the restaurant. I didn’t mean for her to get
this
drunk. I hoped she wouldn’t hate me in the morning.

As we stood on the sidewalk looking for a cab, Emmy wrapped her arms around my neck. I looked down at her with amusement and wonder.

“You’re so good to me,” she crooned.

I chuckled. Even if she was angry in the morning, it was well worth it to have her arms around me and to feel her body pressing against mine, even if just for a moment. I kissed the top of her head and waved down a cab.

“What's with all of the fucking little kisses lately?” she asked after we started moving. I had my arm around her waist still and her sweet smelling head rested on my shoulder. “I don't know if you're kissing me like I'm a pet or like a friend or like a lover. They're really conflicting kisses!”

I laughed. She was fucking adorable, looking up at me with a cute confused expression on her face. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I wasn’t sure what kind of asshole it made me to want to kiss a woman who was clearly intoxicated, but in her intoxication, she was more like the woman I used to know than she had been in a very long time.

“I'm sorry,” I said softly as I gazed down at her. “Let me clear that up for you.”

I put my hand under her chin and tilted her head back. I had one second of indecision, but when she closed her eyes in anticipation, my decision was made. I gently pressed my lips to hers. When she responded easily by parting her lips, I took it as an invitation and slipped my tongue into her mouth. I groaned as I tasted her for the first time in nearly two years. Her tongue slid over mine in an attempt to participate. Her mouth was like heaven, soft, warm, and joyous. Her mouth was like hell, b
ecause once I was there, I’d willingly sell my soul to stay there.

Emmy locked her hands around my neck and climbed o
nto my lap. We both moaned as she grinded herself over my erection. I put my hands on her hips and lifted my hips to grind into her harder. She pushed back and nipped at my tongue. She began to move faster on me, harder, and kissed me deeper as she seemed to search for some kind of release. I was more than willing to give it to her, right there in the back of the cab. I was willing to make her come, groaning in my mouth because I was unwilling to stop kissing her. I was ready push her over the top. I had just began to move my hand towards her breasts when the cabbie interrupted and ruined the moment.

“Hey,” he called, forcing Emmy to pull away from me with a startled expression.  “Why don't you pay me and take your sexcapades to your bedroom?”

Emmy looked horrified as she threw open the door and scrambled off of my lap. I wanted to grab her and not let her run away, but the cabbie again demanded to be paid.

“You could have driven around the block once or twice,” I growled, throwing him a twenty.

“I ain’t no mobile Motel 6, buddy.”

I got out of the cab without getting my change and hu
rried inside. Emmy had already taken an elevator upstairs. I waited for the next one with impatience. She looked horrified. Horrified! I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. The one thing I did know is that I wanted to make sure she was okay.

When I finally got to the apartment, I watched her with unease. She was stiff in her movements and speech. I needed to drive Diane home, but I was tempted to just give her my car keys and let her drive herself home so I could go to Emmy. I
nstead, I ushered my younger cousin to the garage.

“Did you enjoy your date?” Diane asked in the car a little while later.

“Yes,” I said distractedly. “It was fun.”

“I see that,” she giggled.