Page 12

J AMES SAT DOWN next to Emily without asking permission. He motioned to a server for a glass of champagne and then turned to face her.

“Good to see you. How are you doing?” he said.

She fidgeted with the evening bag in her lap. “Fine.”

Nothing could be further from the truth, at least right then. In a world full of people, James was the last person she wanted to see. She wanted to vomit. She wanted to run. Even more, she wanted to disappear.

“Where’s Heather?” Emily said.

He lifted an eyebrow. “I’m doing well. Heather’s at home. She’s ... She’s feeling a little under the weather.”

“I’m sorry to hear she’s ill.” Emily’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away. Truthfully, she wanted him to go elsewhere. “I hope she’ll feel better soon.”

He took a long sip of champagne, and flashed his perfect, insincere smile. Too bad that she seemed to be the only one who knew what was behind the seemingly flawless display. “She’ll be fine. We’re having a baby.”

Obviously Emily was hearing things.

“I could have sworn you just told me Heather’s pregnant.”

“Yes. Yes, we are. It’s a girl. Heather’s in her second trimester.”

“You said you didn’t want children,” she blurted.

“I changed my mind.” He motioned to the server for another glass of champagne. “Where’s your fiancé?”

“He’ll be onstage in a minute.”

James licked his lips as his gaze traveled slowly over her. “You look lovely, Emily. Engagement obviously agrees with you.”

She swallowed hard, resisting the impulse to slap him into the middle of next week.

“So, when’s the wedding?” he asked. “We’ll look forward to receiving the invitation.”

Emily leaned forward. There was no way she wanted those seated around them to hear her comments. News traveled fast, but bad (or scandalous) news traveled even faster.

“You must be out of your mind. Leave me alone.”

James assumed the pouty, supercilious expression he’d always worn whenever he wanted to let her know she didn’t measure up to his expectations. In anything.

“I’d like to think we could be friends, Emily,” he said. “You insist on holding so much envy and bitterness toward us. Why can’t you be happy? We are.”

People in surrounding rows were swiveling around to hear what was being said. James was really putting on a show.

To Emily’s surprise, a big, warm hand took her arm and propelled her to her feet. “Sugar,” Brandon said. “I’ve got this.”

“I thought you were backstage,” she muttered.

Instead of responding, he faced James and said, “I’m Brandon McKenna. And you are?”

“James Peterson.” James stretched out his hand.

Brandon ignored James’s gesture. “Hey, Peterson, my fiancée asked you to leave her alone. Wouldn’t it be the gentlemanly thing to find another place to sit?”

“I wanted to catch up,” James whined. Emily watched his Adam’s apple bob as he tried to swallow. There was fear in his eyes. Brandon was at least half a foot taller than James, and outweighed him as well.

Brandon’s eyes narrowed to slits as he moved closer.

“No, you didn’t. You wanted to cause a scene.” His voice dropped. “If you don’t leave Emily alone and stay away from her, I will remove you from this event. And not gently.”

“You can’t tell me what to do,” James sputtered.

Brandon smiled, but his eyes bored a hole through James’ chest. “Want to bet?” He waited a beat. “Leave, Peterson. Leave now .” He took a step toward James, who jumped up from his seat like it was electrified. It was all Emily could do not to laugh at the panic on James’ face.

James half-ran from the seating area.

Brandon turned to Emily. “Sugar. Shall we?” He picked up her evening purse and her wrap, cupped her elbow in his other hand, and walked her from the auditorium.

“You okay?” he asked as they hurried down a corridor.

“You scared the crap out of me , bruiser.”

“I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again,” he said, steering her backstage. “We’ll be done with our auction in a minute. Let’s get out of here afterward.”

“That’ll be fine. I greeted people, so I can go.”

“Good. I’m going to have to hurt him if he comes near you again.”

He draped Emily’s wrap around her shoulders, gave her a reassuring squeeze, and walked onto the opera house’s stage with his four teammates when their names were called to thunderous applause.

The spray-tanning auction went for ten thousand dollars.

Ten minutes later, Emily swept onstage to applause. The bidding was spirited and fierce, but Mrs. Tollifson prevailed. The fifteen thousand dollars bid on post-performance drinks with her was probably the equivalent of a parking ticket for her grandson.

One hour later, Emily and Brandon sat in his Land Rover at Burgermaster. He draped her in a combination of napkins and his tuxedo jacket while she ate. He had a patty melt with extra tomato, and managed to keep his evening clothes immaculate.

“I never knew I’d be visiting a drive-in wearing an evening dress,” Emily said.

“Stick with me, and you’re going to do a lot of things you’ve never done before.”

B RANDON TRIED TO concentrate on the road in front of him, but the distraction currently sitting in the passenger seat of his Land Rover was presenting a significant challenge. Considering the fact they’d barely made it out of her driveway due to mutual lust earlier this evening, maybe it was time to take things to the next level. Maybe ? Hell. If he didn’t kiss her again in the next few minutes, he was going to spontaneously combust.

He let go of her hand for a moment to make the turn onto her street. He tried to keep his voice casual.

“So, are you inviting me in for a nightcap, sugar?”

Emily leaned forward in the seat, peering through the windshield. “Amy’s van’s in my driveway.”

“Maybe she’s dropping by for a visit.” He wanted to meet Amy, but he wondered what he could bribe her with to visit Emily at a later date. He pulled into Emily’s driveway next to the brightly painted van.

“No, something’s wrong.” He shut off the ignition. Emily already had her seat belt off.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said, but she was out of the car and hurrying toward her front door. Luckily for him, he could keep up with her shorter steps. He reached out for her hand. It seemed his plans for the rest of the evening had just cratered in a spectacular fashion.

Emily was tugging on his hand. “Come in with me,” she said. “I don’t know what’s going on with her right now, but I want you to meet Amy. Plus, I’ve got beer.” She paused in front of the door. “Thank you for such a wonderful evening, Brandon.” She stood on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck.

“I’m not saying goodnight to you yet, sugar,” he said. She was warm and soft against him. She slid her fingers into his hair, touching his mouth with hers.

“Good,” she said. She took his hand again, and opened her front door.

B RANDON SPOTTED A tall blonde with a tear-streaked face; she was wrapped in a blanket on Emily’s couch. She must have stopped at the grocery store on the way over. Various types of junk food were sitting untouched on Emily’s coffee table, including three different flavors of Ben & Jerry’s. He liked her style.

She got to her feet. “I—I didn’t realize you guys had a date. I’m so sorry—”

Emily crossed the room at the speed of light and threw her arms around her sister. “What happened, Ame?”

For a few minutes, the only sounds in the room were Amy’s sobs as she held onto her sister. The smartest thing he could do right now was excuse himself and leave, but Amy seemed to remember they weren’t alone. She mopped up a little, and glanced over at him. “You must be Brandon.”

“Yes, I am,” he said. He crossed the room. “I think you need a hug,” he told Amy.

E MILY EXCUSED HERSELF a few minutes later to change her clothes, and Brandon sat down on the couch next to Amy. “So, squirt, how can I help?”

A few more tears escaped. He handed her another tissue.

“I broke up with my boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” he said. She wasn’t meeting his eyes. He’d bet his next contract bonus that the guy dumped her. Women didn’t cry like this over telling a guy to hit the road. They put on some spike heels, called their girlfriends, and hit the club instead. In the meantime, the guy in question was an idiot.

“It wasn’t working, but I can’t figure out why I’m crying like this.” Amy sniffled a few more times, and reached out to pat him on the knee. “I’ll get myself together and clear out. You’d like to be alone with my sis.” She started to get up from the couch, and Brandon reached out for her elbow.

“No. You need some girl time right now. That Ben & Jerry’s isn’t going to eat itself, you know.”

Amy gave him a watery smile. “Want to split it with me?”

A FEW DAYS after the opera benefit, Emily was on a plane again. Her performances with San Diego Opera went well. She stretched to do Turandot , and the outcome was worth it. These were the greatest performances of her career so far, in a venue that would get international notice in the opera world. To say she was happy about this was an understatement. There weren’t words to describe how it felt. It also didn’t hurt that she had a wonderful and tragic death scene, too. She didn’t want to leave the stage afterward, and she didn’t come down from the adrenaline high of having an audience fall in love with her and her voice for hours afterward.

She scheduled additional practices and worked with others in the production to make sure everything was seamless. She got wonderful reviews, and David was fielding even more calls from opera companies hoping for holes in her schedule. The media was also interested in the diva with the NFL-playing fiancé. She spent every post-performance evening on the phone with Brandon. He wasn’t able to be there. He was ramping up his lifting and required practices before training camp.

“So, you miss me?” he asked every night, with laughter in his voice.

“Yes, I miss you. Do you miss me?”

“Hurry home, sugar.”

No matter how long they talked, there was always more to talk about. He never said a word about ending their engagement, and she wasn’t going to bring it up. She was having too much fun with him. Obviously, it was really helping her career ... or so she kept telling herself.

E MILY ARRIVED BACK in Seattle just before Memorial Day weekend. She missed the routines of home, but mostly, she missed Brandon. The slow progression of their relationship was about to undergo its first big test. Brandon was coming to Sunday dinner to meet her parents. When the day arrived she broached the subject at the breakfast table.

“Good job, sugar.” Brandon pushed his empty plate away and patted his stomach.

“All it took was a phone call.” Restaurant takeout was a modern miracle. Emily was still attempting to master the basics of cooking without supervision. She took a deep breath. “Baby.”

“Hey, where’s my latest nickname?”

“For today, you’re Godzilla.”

He laughed, and squeezed her hand. “You look a little apprehensive.”

“It’s my parents. I don’t even know how to explain them.”

“Try me.”

“They’re still really mad about the engagement.” She gripped her hands together. “They accepted James because they thought he understood my schedule and my goals. I’ve told them they need to meet you before they make up their minds about who you are and why I’m with you.”

He let out a chuckle. “I wish I cared about James, but truthfully, sugar, I don’t. Right now, though, what you’re trying to tell me is that I may not get an especially warm reception from your parents.”

“I—I’ve talked to them about you. They’re freaking out.”

“I spend all day Sunday from September to February dealing with people who don’t necessarily like me.” Emily felt herself relax at his amusement. “Listen. I’m going to dinner. I’ll do my best to show them I’m not a jerk.”

“Everyone else loves you.”

“You’re good for my ego.”

“It’s true,” she said. Everywhere they went, women were helpless in the face of his charm. Emily should know. She was one of them.

The ride to Emily’s mother’s house was quiet until Brandon murmured, “Penny for your thoughts.”

“I’m nervous.”

“I’m the one who’s supposed to be nervous,” he said, but his lips curved into a teasing smile. “It’s going to go perfectly.”

Emily’s nerves increased as she reflected on the fact Amy wouldn’t be at dinner today. She was delivering and setting up wedding flowers. She might stop by later.

Brandon pulled into a parking space in front of her mom’s house. As Emily reached down to pick her handbag up off the floorboard, he slipped his arms around her.

“Everything will be fine. I’m right here.”

“I know you are.” She rested her head against his shoulder, and pulled in a long breath. “I’m right here, too.”

He chuckled. “Protecting me from the big, mean parents, are you?” Emily concentrated on the warm, solid man in her embrace. “You’ll kiss it and make it better.”

She couldn’t stop the snort she made. He grinned again. “I know you want to see your mama and daddy. Now, give me a kiss.”

She reached up to kiss him. His mouth was gentle on hers. He kissed the corner of her lips, and she smiled against his mouth. “Now, that’s what I want to see. Let’s go.”

It occurred to her that they were co-conspirators, instead of two people tied together by fine jewelry and career aspirations. The feeling of being a team happened slowly over the time they were together. She couldn’t imagine facing most things now without him.

He reached into the backseat, grabbing the bouquet of flowers and a bottle of wine he’d stopped on the way for. He took her hand as they walked up the steps to the front door.

“Mom?” Emily called out as she crossed the threshold.

“Smells good.” Brandon said.

Emily’s mother emerged from the kitchen with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes.

“You must be Mrs. Hamilton,” Brandon said, and extended his hand. “I’m Brandon McKenna. It’s great to meet you. Emily’s told me so much about you.”

“Hello, Brandon. It’s nice to meet you, too,” her mother told him. Brandon presented her with the bouquet of flowers. “Thank you. They’re lovely. I’d better get these in water.” She turned to vanish into the kitchen again.

“My dad will be in the family room,” Emily said.

Her father was half-asleep in his chair. He didn’t live in her house anymore, but her mother made sure there was a recliner for him in the family room. He used it when he came for Sunday dinners. The Mariners game was on TV.

“Dad?”

He sat up with a “Hmph.” He didn’t look especially happy, either.

“This is Brandon. Brandon, this is my dad, Mark Hamilton.” Her father got to his feet and shook Brandon’s hand.

Emily kissed her dad. His returned kiss was less than attentive. He glared at Brandon, who handed him the bottle of wine.

“Mr. Hamilton, I brought this along. I thought maybe you and Mrs. Hamilton would like some wine with dinner.”

“I’ll ask her.” Mark’s voice was gruff. “Sit down.”

Brandon and Emily moved to the love seat across from his recliner. Her father set the bottle on the coffee table, and sat back in the chair.

“So, Brandon, Emily tells us that you play for the Sharks.”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“How long have you been in the NFL?”

“This will be my thirteenth season.”

“You’ve always played with the Sharks?” As a sports fan, Mark Hamilton would know the answer to his questions. Emily wished she knew why he was asking them.

“Yes. Yes, I have.”

“Do you have plans for what you’ll do when you decide to retire from professional football?”

Brandon sat forward, and rested his forearms on his thighs. “I’ve spent a lot of time over the past three off-seasons working on my future. I initially thought I’d like to go into coaching, but I am interested in having a wife and a family. The work hours of most coaches aren’t compatible with family life.”

Mark’s eyebrows shot up.

Brandon continued. “I did some color and game analysis during the preseason last year, and according to my agent, the network’s interested. I’m pursuing this, and we’ve had preliminary contract talks. I’ve been working with other announcers to prepare as well. It’s what I plan on doing.”

Emily’s father nodded. “Where’d you go to college again?”

“I went to LSU, majoring in mathematics. I graduated with my class.” This was impressive. Brandon explained to Emily previously that many football players either didn’t graduate from college, or graduated years after their class was gone. “I also hold a Master’s in math from the University of Washington.”

Emily broke in. “You didn’t want to teach?”

“I enjoyed the studying, sugar.”

Her father leaned forward in his chair as well, but his wasn’t the relaxed, easy pose Brandon exhibited. He braced himself as if he would spring from the chair at any moment.

“Brandon, I’m not going to play games with you. Mrs. Hamilton and I aren’t happy with how this engagement came about, and I notice that my daughter is still wearing your ring. Would you mind sharing with me what it is you thought was going to happen here?”

“Dad—”

“Emily, maybe it would be best if you went to help your mother in the kitchen for a few minutes,” her father said.

“I’m not a child.”

“You’re still my daughter, and I need to talk with Brandon privately. He’ll see you in a few minutes.” Her father’s voice was stern. He wasn’t relenting.

Emily got to her feet, leaving the room. She heard her father’s voice rising and falling as she walked through the house, but she couldn’t make out what was being said. Her mother glanced up in surprise as she entered the kitchen.

“What are you doing here, honey? I thought you were visiting with Daddy. Where’s Brandon?”

“Dad’s raking him over the coals. He said I had to leave.”

“He just wants to get to know him.”

“That’s not what’s happening right now. He made that clear enough.” Emily paused by the kitchen table. “Would you like some help?”

“Everything’s almost done. Maybe you could put the garlic bread in the breadbasket and take it out to the table.” Her mother bustled around the kitchen. She didn’t meet Emily’s eyes. Emily reached out and caught her hand.

“Mom, are you still mad?” Emily felt her chin wobble. “I’m sorry about what I said. It was—it was awful. I know you and Dad are disappointed.”

Her mother reached out to stroke Emily’s cheek. “Honey, I can’t stay mad at you.” She took a deep breath. “Your friend seems nice. Frankly, I wasn’t sure what to expect.”

“Why?” The timer on the stove went off.

“We can talk about it later. Let’s carry the rest of the food into the dining room.” Her mother poked her head into the family room. “Dinner’s ready.”

Emily’s father still looked like a thundercloud. Brandon squeezed her hand and said in a low voice, “Things are fine, sugar.”

“I’m worried.”

“Smile for me.” His palm was warm and comforting on the small of her back.

At the table, Brandon pulled the chair out for her, settled her into it, and held the chair for Emily’s mother as she sat down. This earned him another less-than-happy look from Emily’s father. Meg smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Brandon.”

“You’re welcome, ma’am. Dinner smells delicious.”

“I hope it’ll taste delicious, too. Would you like some lasagna?”

“Yes, please.”

Her mother appeared somewhat bewildered by Brandon’s impeccable table manners. Her father must have thought it was some kind of act. Emily wondered if they thought he would throw food or something.

Her dad got up from his chair and left the room. He returned with Brandon’s bottle of wine, still frowning.

“I almost forgot about this. Meg, would you like some of this with dinner?”

“Yes,” Emily’s mother said. “It was thoughtful of Brandon to bring such a nice gift.”

She was flirting with him now. The friendlier Emily’s mother got, the more her father’s expression soured.

“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Hamilton. I’m glad you like it.” Brandon gave Emily an almost imperceptible wink. He was workin’ it.

“So, honey, you and Brandon are staying engaged?” her mother asked.

Emily had a mouthful of lasagna. She glanced across the table at Brandon and nodded in response.

“Brandon, if you don’t mind my asking, how do your mom and dad feel about this?” Meg Hamilton sipped her wine. Her ex-husband’s lips formed a thin line of disapproval.

“They were unhappy with me.” The twinkle in Brandon’s eyes was gone. “I’d also like to say that, while this did not start well, it has been my pleasure to spend time with Emily, and I’d like to keep doing so if she’ll have me.” He and Emily’s eyes met across the table.

“I’m not happy with your beginning any relationship with a lie, and frankly, Brandon, this reinforces what I’ve heard and read about you,” her father told him.

“Dad,” Emily pleaded.

Brandon gave her a slight head shake. He sat up in his chair and squared his shoulders. “Sir, I’ll have to prove I’m not that person.” The men sized each other up. It was like two bulls pawing and snorting before the inevitable clash.

“Mark,” Meg interrupted, but Mark was on a roll.

“Our family sacrificed so Emily could have the success she enjoys. Once she was out of the conservatory and performing with opera companies, she made her own luck, but at the same time, the cost was enormous, not just financially, and not just on Emily, but on everyone in the family.”

Emily’s bite of lasagna turned to sawdust in her mouth. Her dad’s insistence on bringing up their family problems in front of Brandon was humiliating.

Her father continued. “I worked two jobs for years. My wife worked. When we weren’t working, we were taking Emily to voice lessons and dance lessons till she was old enough to get herself there.” His eyes narrowed. “Our daughter’s not throwing her career away because you think it’ll be fun to play house with her, or because you’d like the publicity. There was no other way you could possibly get yourself in the paper?”

Emily’s mouth dropped open in horror. “I’m as responsible for this as Brandon is. My name was in the paper, too,” she blurted out. Brandon shook his head at her again, but she couldn’t remain quiet. “And I am not ‘throwing away’ my career. Maybe we should talk about how much my bookings have taken off since this all happened.”

“Mark, we’re at the table. This isn’t the time,” her mother said.

“Yes, it is. This needs to stop, right now. You’re not continuing a sham engagement for Brandon’s convenience,” Emily’s father told her. “I won’t stand by and watch your career blow up in a huge scandal.”

“It wasn’t all his idea. It’s helping me, too,” Emily said. “I just said my bookings are up.”

Meg Hamilton was white-faced and silent.

“For the record, I’ve offered to repay you and Mom over and over for the lessons and my schooling. You keep saying no. We’ve both told you that this was our decision, and Brandon apologized. What more do you want?” Emily said.

“It’s not the money,” her father ground out.

“Then why bring it up?” Emily asked.

“Sir, this seems to be a painful subject. Maybe we could talk some more about it later,” Brandon said.

“There won’t be any more discussion. My mind is made up.” Mark glanced over at his daughter. “As an adult, you are free to make your own decisions, but I want you to know I don’t agree, and I won’t support this choice.”

Emily sat silently for a few minutes. She knew all families fought, but their arguments never seemed to have a resolution. She loved her dad, but he never tried to understand how she felt about a situation or see her point of view. She’d had a fairly shocking revelation between bites of her mother’s lasagna: She didn’t want their “engagement” to end, no matter what her father thought about the subject. She and Brandon’s slowly growing relationship deserved a chance to thrive.

Emily tossed her napkin on the table, pushed her chair back, and got to her feet.

“Mom, thank you for the delicious dinner,” she said, despite eating only a few bites. “Dad, excuse us.”

“Sit down and finish your dinner,” her father said.

Brandon got up from his chair, rounded the table, and took her arm. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked in a low voice.

“Yes. Mom, I’ll talk with you later.”

“Honey, please stay.”

“No, thank you.” She hauled breath into her lungs. Showing her anger, frustration and embarrassment was out of the question right now. “No matter how you feel about my choices, you’re right. I’m an adult. I’m capable of making my own way, and I have been for a long time now.” She looked into her father’s eyes. “Thank you for supporting me for so long. I love you both very much, but I can take it from here. Brandon’s my guest. Even more, he’s—he’s my friend. I’m choosing to be with him, and I don’t understand why you’re treating him so rudely.”

“Maybe we should talk about this some more,” Meg said.

“No, Mom. Dad’s done talking right now, and so am I.”

Emily hurried out of the dining room without waiting for an answer. She snatched up her handbag from the hall table, flung open the front door, and stumbled down the porch stairs. Brandon was right behind her.

“Emily,” her mother called out.

Emily heard the chirp of the locks as Brandon’s car doors disengaged. She wrenched the passenger door open and turned to look back at her mother.

“Don’t leave like this,” Meg pleaded. She stood on the sidewalk only feet away from them. She clasped her hands in front of her.

“Mom, I love you a lot, but we need to go.”

Meg extended her hand to Brandon. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It was nice to meet you, too, ma’am. I apologize for leaving such a delicious dinner.” He thought for a moment. “I hope we’ll meet again under better circumstances.”

A surprised expression crossed her mother’s face, but she said, “Yes, that would be nice.” She turned and went back into the house.

B RANDON FOUND A parking spot a couple of blocks away and pulled into it. He turned toward Emily. She wrapped her arms around herself like she was attempting to keep her organs inside. She felt terrible, but she felt even worse for Brandon. He didn’t ask for this.

“I’m so sorry,” Emily gasped. “I can’t believe my dad acted like that. Does he think I’m not old enough to make my own decisions? Why does he ... I’m sorry.”

“Come here. We’ll be fine.” His arms slid around Emily. She felt him, warm and solid against her. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“It was awful. I am so embarrassed.”

“Shh,” he comforted.

“Aren’t you mad?”

“I don’t like the fact your dad upset you like this.” He kissed her forehead. “We will work this out. I want to keep seeing you, so I need to make peace with him.”

“I am as responsible as you are. Why can’t he see this? I ...” Her voice trailed off as he cupped her face in one hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. She remembered she had pulled him away from an entire plate of food, too. “You’re probably still hungry.”

He looked somewhat amused. “Let’s go grab a bite. We’ll go for a walk at Marina Park later.”

“Baby, I still—”

“No more apologizing. Everything’s going to be fine.” His dimple flashed as his lips curved into a dazzling smile. “So, I’m your pal.” He sat back in his seat, but he didn’t let go of her hand.

She lifted a brow. “Maybe.”

“Maybe Katie’s at the park today, too.”

He shifted the car into gear and drove away, but not before Emily saw gratitude in his eyes.