"I hate to even bring this up," Booker muttered.
Emily took pity on the big man. "Booker, you know you can tell me anything. We've always been up front and honest with each other and—"
"Tell Jake about the dancing."
"And he says I have a problem with diplomacy," Marilyn murmured.
Emily blinked. "The dancing."
"Yes. Tell him everything about it."
"Everything?"
"Yes. Everything."
"Lee," Marilyn said. "Jake is an understanding man. If you tell him about the dancing, then he'll understand. But if he hears it from someone else, then he might not be so…
understanding
."
Booker looked at her with troubled brown eyes. "He might even be hurt that you didn't trust him enough to tell him. And if he doesn't understand, then we'll know that he isn't good enough for you."
"But he will understand," Marilyn added quickly.
Emily drew in a deep, calming breath and slowly exhaled. She pursed her lips and thought for a minute. "I'm not so sure he will understand."
"He will. Lee, that boy is so in love with you that he'll—"
Emily head shot up and she interrupted Marilyn. "In love? Oh, no. He's not in love. He's in lust. Big difference."
A frown creased Booker's dark forehead. "You're right about the big difference, but… if Jake were in lust, then I'm fairly certain that he would have let you jump him by now."
"I agree," Marilyn said.
"No," Emily said. "Jake hasn't let me jump him, because he wants something more than an…."
"He wants more than just sex," Booker finished for her. "I don't blame him. I'd want more than just sex, if I were him. Actually, he'd have to be an idiot to want something so shallow as an affair when he could have—"
"But I don't want him to want more than an affair."
"No," Booker said. "You want more than an affair. You don't realize it yet, but you will. I'll make sure that you do."
"I do not want more than an—"
"Yes-you-do," Booker told her in a tone which attempted to bend her will to his own. "You are female and you want babies, marriage, and love. End of discussion."
"No. I want Jake and sex and that is the end of this discussion."
Booker pointed at Emily, then said to Marilyn, "Mother, tell her why she doesn't want just sex with Jake."
Marilyn sighed. "Lee, you can't have just sex with Jake. He's not the type."
Booker shot Emily an I-told-you-so look.
Marilyn smiled. "Lee, Jake is old-fashioned. He's a family man. He wouldn't have introduced you to his parents if he didn't have big plans for you and—"
Emily stood up. She'd heard enough. "It doesn't really matter what Jake wants to have with me, because I only want an affair. This is and will always be a short term relationship with no strings attached and
that
is final." Emily held her chin high and marched towards the door.
Marilyn shook her head. "I told you, Booker. She's just using him. Jake deserves a lot more than to be used for his body."
Emily refused to turn around and let them see how much Marilyn's statement hurt.
"You're right about that, Marilyn. One of these days, Lee might realize that there's nothing to be afraid of."
"I am not afraid," Emily replied through clenched teeth.
"No. She's not afraid," Marilyn said. "She's terrified. And I would give anything to know why."
"Wouldn't we all," Booker murmured, then cleared his throat. "Don't go far, Lee. We're supposed to have lunch over at The Brigade in a couple of hours."
Emily made a motion with her hand to let them know she'd heard them, then stormed down the aisle of her store and headed for the manager's office. She needed to bury herself in some mind numbing spreadsheets and forget how close she was to committing the ultimate sin.
Committing the ultimate sin after only two dates? It should be impossible. But it didn't feel impossible. In fact, it felt more like a distinct possibility.
Emily sighed. She really didn't need this kind of distraction in her life. Falling in love with Jake would give him too much power over her. He would demand more of her time. He would expect her to sit at home and cook dinner for him. Oh, but he wouldn't have to change his lifestyle to accommodate Emily's needs. Jake would expect Emily to change her life to fit him. Just like a man. She would be expected to like the same foods as him and the same music and the same drinks and the same… TV shows.
Falling in love with Jake would mean the loss of Emily's independence. And Emily had fought too long and too hard for her independence to give it up to a drop dead gorgeous man in faded button fly jeans and T-shirts.
And she would not change her mind. Not even when he gave her his patented angelic-slash-Beezlebub-ish smile.
No, sir. Emily Katherine Stafford would never fall in love. Love was for fools who couldn't make decisions on their own. Love was for simpletons who couldn't make it through life on their own. Love was for weak people who didn't have enough sense to take care of themselves.
She'd seen her mother fall in love enough times to know.
But Emily Katherine Stafford was not a foolish, weak, hopeless romantic like her mother. Emily was a bold, take charge, independent entrepreneur who just happened to be female. She was not a weak, mushy female who liked to wear flowery dresses.
The manager jumped as Emily walked into his office. "Miss Stafford, I, uh, didn't hear you, um—"
"Show me the sales numbers for last month."
"Yes, ma'am. They're right here." The manager dug through a precarious stack on his desk.
Emily sat down and lost herself in the one thing in her life which would never hurt her.
The one aspect of her life which was safe and stable enough not to walk all over the vulnerability buried deep within her.
Her business.
"That, Mrs. Grayden, was by far the best meal I have ever had the pleasure of inhaling," Booker announced. He patted his flat stomach and leaned back in the chair. "Thank you for the invitation."
Lily brushed aside the comment and a delicate flush stained her cheeks. "Call me, Lily. If you're still hungry, there is plenty more where that came from."
"Thank you, ma'am, but three helpings is my limit. Got to watch out for the waistline."
Lily patted Booker on the shoulder and refilled his cup of coffee. "You're still a growing boy. You'll work it off in no time."
"Ma'am, I certainly hope I'm done growing. It's mighty hard to find clothes that fit these days. If it weren't for Lee and her talent, I'd probably go around in my fatigues."
Emily chuckled and set her tea back on the table. "Bookah, dahlin', olive drab will always be your color."
Booker grinned. "Why do you think I enlisted? Olive drab accents my eyes."
"Don't let him fool you," Marilyn said as she stirred a spoon of sugar into her coffee. "The Marine Corps was the only place that carried shoes in his size. And even then they had to be special ordered."
Booker reached around the back of Tabitha's chair to tug on Marilyn's pony tail. "It's still the only place I can find decent boots."
Katie chuckled. "Yeah and you know what they say about the size of a man's boot."
Lily swatted at her daughter's shoulder and sat down next to her.
Booker pushed back his chair and started to rise. "Yes, Miss Katie, I do. It's directly proportional to the size of his brain."
Marilyn harumphed and rolled her eyes. "And we all know what a man thinks with."
Booker stuck his tongue out at Marilyn, then said, "If you ladies will excuse me, I'll just go and see if the fellows need any help." He saluted the ladies, then disappeared to go off and help with the renovation of the soon-to-be-finished restaurant which was in progress on the second floor of The Brigade.
Lily shook her head and watched Booker leave. "He seems like a very nice young man. Very polite. Where did you find him?"
"It's hard to remember," Marilyn said. "One minute he wasn't there and the next he wouldn't get out of my face. Lee, wasn't that around the time I met you?"
Emily rested her foot on the chair and wrapped her arm around her knee. "That it was. You two bamboozled me into eating hot meals and setting me up in the Grande Plaza hotel."
"You mean, the Motel Six."
"No, lemon drop, it was the Bates Hotel and Efficiency. Come on in and ask us about our weekly rate specials." Emily shivered. "I can still remember the funk on the shower wall. It moved like a giant amoeba."
"No wonder you took a shower in your tennis shoes."
"Like I was going to let that amoeba fungus thing touch me. Yick. Uck. No way," Emily said with a shudder.
Lily reached over and patted Emily's arm. "Well, you look like you've made quite a difference for yourself. You should be proud."
Marilyn grinned like a proud mother. "She is. I am. The little baby doll has come a long way."
Emily was about to reply when her cell phone shrilled and begged for immediate attention. "Excuse me." She whipped open the phone and answered it. "Stafford."
"Lee, it's Holbrooke." The male voice on the other end of the phone sounded harried and anxious. "I just received a call from Peters."
"What did he have to say?"
"He's ready to jump the ship. Lee, I told him not to do anything until he talks to you that you'd take care of the problem, but you know how he is. He swears that we're all going to be ruined and—"
"Adam," Emily interrupted. "What problem?"
From the corner of her eye, she saw Marilyn's ears perk up.
"Antonio got a call from the owner of the Bluebell. The owner said that they had a kitchen fire which took out part of the wall."
"Ohmigoodness," Emily breathed. "Was anyone hurt?"
"No. Thank God. But he had to shut down the restaurant and he won't be able to reopen for who knows how long. So when he called Antonio, Antonio called Peters who tried to find another place for the show, but every place in the area is already booked up. And then Peters let it slip to some of the girls what happened and a few of them have walked."
"Calm down, Adam. This is nothing to get your blood pressure up over. I'll take care of finding another place. I'll call Peters and Antonio and take care of them. In the meantime, I need two things."
"Peters is up in the studio about to rip apart the wedding collection. He and Antonio have been at each other's throats since they found out."
"I'll deal with them. See if you can't find the owner of the Bluebell and—"
"John Redding," Adam interrupted.
"Fine. Try and get in touch with him. Ask him to give me a call on my cell phone. Before we scrap the contract, I want to know all the facts."