Feverish (Bullet #3) (25 page)

She fell asleep in his arms, and he got up
and closed the door. So Mary would have confirmation. She’d already
suspected, and he knew that, because once or twice she’d hinted
around, asking how Emily felt about him having female companions
over. He couldn’t figure out how she knew at first, but of course
she would. He had used condoms in the trash, and sometimes the bed
was more torn up than usual. It wasn’t just the clothing
evidence.

He didn’t want Emily going to her own room
again. He wanted her with him.
Both
Jet and Clay wanted her
in his bed…and no one was going to stop that.

* * *

Mary never said a word. He’d underestimated
that woman’s class. Even more amazing was that she treated Emily
the same as she always had—as a trusted colleague and coworker,
even though she could have treated her so many other ways. He knew
Mary was overprotective of him, and she could have easily used that
as an excuse to treat Emily like shit, but she didn’t. Clay
couldn’t love that woman more. He might have been the shittiest
interviewer on the planet, but he’d managed to pick the best
possible employee ever. He was convinced he could have the
opportunity to interview hundreds of other people and wouldn’t be
able to find someone else as good as that woman.

She did say one thing to him one day, though,
just one thing. “Don’t fall too hard, boss.”

He smiled. “What’s that supposed to
mean?”

She put her hand on his chest. “Just protect
your heart. You’re a good man.” She’d patted his chest then and
walked around him, getting back to work. He knew what she meant,
but she had it all wrong.

A couple days later, he wanted to ask Emily
what she thought of him getting an Instagram page. Brian had been
talking about his again while they’d been fine-tuning a song.
“Shit. They just fall all over it.” Clay didn’t need the admiration
of rabid female fans, but he did know he wasn’t as good about
self-promoting as he should be. Well, he still wasn’t. Now Emily
did it for him. He didn’t want to give her more work to do, but he
wanted to see what she thought. That might even be something he
could do just when he felt like it.

So he wanted to run it past her and walked
down the hall to the office. She wasn’t in there, but he could hear
her voice behind a closed door. He turned his head. Her bedroom was
closed. He heard a man’s voice and for a moment, he felt a green
rage flood his head…until he realized she was on the phone with the
guy who might still be her fiancé. Then it just hurt.

He should have just walked away. He knew
that. But he couldn’t make himself do it. In fact, instead of
turning around, he took a few more steps closer to her bedroom.

“Listen, Em, I’m just asking you for a little
forgiveness.”

“
Just?
Do you even hear what you’re
saying?”

“I don’t care what it sounds like. Just hear
me out.” Nothing from Emily. He figured they were on Skype, and the
douchebag could see her face. “Those women? They meant nothing to
me, okay? I just…miss you so much, kitten, and it’s so hard here
without you. You have no idea.”

Clay felt his blood getting hotter. God, he’d
love to put his fist into this guy’s teeth. Not only did he not
have the balls to apologize properly to his girlfriend, he was
trying to make her feel like it was her fault. He should have been
on his hands and knees begging and then reconciled with himself
when she told him to fuck off.

But she wasn’t. She was letting him talk.

Did that motherfucker still have a hold on
her?

“Bryce, it’s not that easy. You say
you
have no idea. Well, same here. I already told you we’re
through. I’m just talking to you now to be nice.” Clay felt his
heart lift a little when he heard those words, because that made
douchebag her ex. In the back of his mind, he realized that still
made him rebound guy, but it was a less tenuous position.

“Just…give it more thought. Don’t do anything
rash, Em.” She didn’t say anything. God, Clay would love to see her
face. “My dad is holding a position for you if you still want to
work for him this fall.”

“I don’t know, Bryce.”

“You know he’ll pay you more than anyone else
for starting out. You won’t find a better deal than his. No matter
how you feel about me, you should take it.” Clay wanted to run in
her room and tell her it was bullshit, that the guy wanted her
close by so he could win her back. He couldn’t, though. He knew he
should really walk away, but then Bryce started talking again.
“I’ll be home near the end of August, and I hope by then you’re
ready with an answer.”

“What? I thought you were coming back the
first week of August.”

“We were, but there’s so much here left to
see. You have no idea how huge Europe is until you get here. It’s
amazing.” Yeah, and the guy was probably scoring pussy every step
of the way, just wrecking Emily. Why couldn’t she just tell the guy
to fuck off?

Clay knew why. She’d said it herself a while
back. She had that mountain of school debt to pay off, and it was
driving her decisions. Maybe that too was why she felt like she
couldn’t tell her ex-douchebag to just kiss her ass.

He walked away from the door, because he knew
if he stayed much longer, he was going to walk in uninvited and say
a lot of things he’d never be able to take back.

Chapter Twenty-six

UNBELIEVABLE. AT FIRST she’d thought Bryce
was just messing around with her, but the first week of August came
and went, and he was still in Europe. That told her just about
everything she needed to know. He didn’t care enough about her to
come home and discuss their future together.

It wasn’t like she’d been clinging to the
thought of marrying him anymore. His father had even sent her a
cursory email (likely typed by his assistant) with a tentative
start date for her at her new job—the second week in September. She
had responded with a simple
Thank you
, but she didn’t know
that she planned to follow through.

Still…Bryce had told her the job was hers
even if she called off their marriage and relationship.

She was coming close to a crossroads, and she
still didn’t know which road to take.

Yeah…she really liked being with Clay,
whether he was playing Jet or himself (an invisible line that
didn’t exist as much as he thought it did), but she knew he wasn’t
keeper material. She almost cringed even thinking that, but then
all she had to do was imagine her dad’s reaction if she were to
introduce Clay as her boyfriend. Her father was quite conservative
and had on more than one occasion commented on her “hippy music,”
seeming to cling to the notion that she would someday “outgrow” her
taste for rock and metal music.

So she agonized over the decision that lay
before her. She was starting to care for Clay a lot, but she knew
it was going to end soon.

Meeting his daughter made it worse. The first
of August, the girl had spent a week at Clay’s house, and Emily had
fallen in love with her. Jasmine was a funny, happy child, shy at
first, but once she warmed up to Emily, they had no problems
talking. Jas helped Emily cook dinner a couple of nights when Clay
didn’t insist they go out to eat. She was ten years old and smart.
She told Emily about her little brother and her new baby brother on
the way, and Emily’s heart ached for Clay. After what he’d told her
about his love for Abby, she knew that the woman building a new
family had to cut deep.

Still, he seemed to have moved on. Emily
enjoyed seeing him with his daughter. They played videogames a few
times, and it was fun to see how they interacted with one another.
At first, Emily thought Clay was letting Jas win some of the games
they were playing, but then she became convinced that Jas was just
that good.

Jas and Mary got along well too. Twice Mary
made some of Jas’s favorite breakfasts—once was chocolate chip
waffles and the second time was bacon and eggs. Emily ate a
grapefruit on the day of the waffles, but when she made herself
some toast the next day, Jas asked why she didn’t eat the
breakfasts Mary made. That’s when Emily told the child about her
eating choices and what led to Jas helping her make a couple of
meals. There was no helping the bond they formed over that
week.

Emily hadn’t ever gone through all the rooms
on the ground floor, but she discovered that one of them was Jas’s
bedroom, and Emily was wowed. The child didn’t spend much time at
Clay’s house, but it looked like she lived there full time. It was
crazy the things in that girl’s room.

Needless to say, Clay and Emily tried to
forego sex for the week but found it next to impossible, so twice
they met late at night in the guest bedroom in the basement. She
still felt the need to be as quiet as possible. She knew it
wouldn’t help Clay out at all if his daughter found out he was
sleeping with his assistant.

She was almost as sad as Clay when he left to
take Jas home to her other life. She was a great kid, and Emily
loved that the child had her father’s smile and dimples. It just
made her love the girl more.

Caring for his child made her decision that
much more difficult. And her usual tactic of writing down pros and
cons wasn’t helping. Her heart was too entwined in both outcomes,
and she couldn’t settle.

No, that wasn’t true, and she knew it when
she let herself really look at her situation. No—her heart wanted
one thing, her rational self, quite another. And neither was
budging.

So, instead of deciding, she continued to
hope that, as the days got closer to September, a clear choice
would present itself, one that would make a decision easy and swift
to make.

Meanwhile, she was emailing back and forth
with the band manager and communicating details to Clay. The band
was going to be recording their next album in October, somewhere in
Portland, Oregon. Clay had asked if Emily wanted to come along and
she asked if he’d really need her there. He said he’d love to have
her come along and said she’d have plenty to do. He’d buy a laptop
so she could continue to do whatever she normally did, but he
thought she’d love to see the recording process. That…and he
admitted he didn’t want to be away from her that long. He said, if
she was okay with it, that she could just stay in his room with
him, but they had to book the flight, so he needed to know as soon
as possible—like yesterday.

She asked him the obvious question—why didn’t
they just record in Denver? She did the research and knew there was
at least one good recording studio nearby.

It was already a done deal, he said. The
manager had already booked the studio, and they’d heard it was a
kick ass place. All they knew is they didn’t want the usual haunts
in New York and LA where everyone else always went. They wanted
someplace different and out of the way. Emily didn’t say it, but
Portland sounded about as out of the way as it could get. She
imagined part of it was because it was different and new, and she
imagined that kind of energy could be good for the band.

One afternoon, still unable to come to a
decision but close to telling him
no
, she walked outside to
get the mail. She’d finally set up most of Clay’s bills to be
deducted from his checking account automatically, but she still had
to go through the mail. She was getting her mail at his house too,
so oftentimes, there would be something for her she had to deal
with.

As she walked in the house, her eyes
adjusting from the bright sun, she started flipping through the
envelopes and one of them was addressed to her from her student
loan company. She was beginning to find their notices irritating.
She knew she still had a few more months before she had to start
making payments, but they continued sending her information and
notices. When she got back to the office, it was the first envelope
she opened. As she read it, though, her jaw dropped, and she moved
from annoyed to angry.

She needed to find Clay.

* * *

He was working on the last song that he
thought they’d squeeze onto the next album. It was something
special, something secret, something he’d been working on for close
to a month now. He’d played part of it for Emily just before she’d
tied him up, and she’d liked it. He hadn’t been lying to her when
he said he’d written it for her.

The problem now was writing the lyrics. He’d
never been a word man.

Still…he didn’t want Devil writing the words
to something that meant so much to him. He didn’t care if Devil
sang it, but he wanted the words to be
his
.

So, he was thinking about everything Emily
was starting to mean to him when she came into the music
room…
looking more pissed than he’d ever seen her.
He
wondered if maybe she’d had another conversation with Bryce, but he
sensed that wasn’t it. He put down the pen he’d been holding and
set it on the notepad on the loveseat beside his leg and asked,
“What’s going on?” She looked pretty emotional, and he sensed she
might need some comforting, so he propped the guitar on the floor
in front of the loveseat as well.

“
This.
” She waved a crumpled sheet of
paper in front of her, but he couldn’t see it.

“What is it?” He was starting to feel tense.
She was angry with
him
.

She took a deep breath of air and managed to
keep her voice steady. “Do you want to explain to me why you paid
off all my student loans?”

He relaxed then. “We talked about it, Emily.
You don’t need that shit holding you back from what you really want
in life.”

“No, Clay, we didn’t talk about that. Not
about you paying it all off. What the hell? Why would you do
that?”

He stood then. “Because I care about you. I
hate to see you running off to do something you hate just because
you have all this debt you’re buried under. It’s ridiculous.”