I, on the other hand, hitch my shoulders back and head into The Pit.
Rather than turning left to wind my way through the desks to get to my own, I spare a brief glance to see my dad sitting behind his desk, and then turn right. I follow the perimeter of the room, not looking anywhere but the direction I'm walking. When I reach the adjacent wall, I turn left and walk straight toward Midge's office.
Her secretary looks up from her desk as I approach, a cool smile on her face.
"Can I help you?" she asks pleasantly.
"Nope," I say and glide right past her. Taking the doorknob to Midge's office firmly in hand, I turn it and push the door open while her secretary scrambles up from her desk, saying in a frantic voice, "You can't go in there without an invite."
Midge is at her desk and her head slowly rises to look at who would dare intrude into her personal space. Her secretary comes in right behind me and says, "I'm so sorry. She just barged right in. Shall I call security?"
I roll my eyes, but I don't spare her a glance. Instead, I walk right up to one of Midge's guest chairs and plop down in one. I set my briefcase on the floor and look at Midge expectantly.
Midge stares back at me for a thoughtful moment, her face exquisitely blank. I brace for her to throw me out, but her gaze slides past me and over my shoulder where she says to her secretary, "It's fine. You can leave us."
When I hear the door close behind me, Midge finally looks back to me and says, "Welcome back, Emma. It's about time."
"I'm not here to stay," I say curtly and bend to the side to reach into the side pocket of my briefcase. I pull a piece of paper out and hand it across the desk to her. "This is where I want a job. I want you to handle it for me as soon as possible."
Midge cocks an eyebrow at me but takes the paper. She unfolds it, and her eyes do a quick scan of the printout. I'd been doing some in-depth searching and knew the exact place I wanted to go.
"Crowley and Padrick," she muses as she looks back up at me. "You've done your homework."
"You were classmates with Quentin Padrick," I recite like a robot. "You did moot court together, served on law review, and graduated numbers one and two respectively from your law school class. You've worked on several cases together over the years, and I remember seeing him at the Christmas party."
"Well done," she praises me, but it doesn't ring genuine. "So you think I have enough influence with him to land you a job there?"
"I think you have enough influence to do anything you set your mind to," I offer praise back to her.
She gives a tinkling laugh of appreciation, but then her demeanor turns shrewd. She leans forward, puts her elbows on the desk, and steeples her fingers in front of her face as she looks at me. "That law firm is about as far from Raleigh as you can get without crossing over into Tennessee."
"It is," I agree.
"You're running far, far away, aren't you?" she taunts me.
"I consider it a necessary career change, and one that was promised to me if I helped Evan out," I offer back.
"I get it," she says smoothly. "You know Evan will come back here after the tour, and you're conceited enough to think he might come looking for you."
My jaw drops as anger courses through me. "I have no such thoughts--"
"Then why are you leaving?"
I'm prepared for this, because I knew she and my dad would think I was running away from Evan. "As it turns out, your nephew did have one positive impact on me. He taught me that I could do so much more as an attorney than I thought. So I chose Crowley and Padrick because they have a heavy mergers and acquisitions practice. That's contract heavy, but there is also a good deal of negotiations that occur. I consider it an upward move for my career, and it lets me expand upon my newfound confidence and skills."
Midge sits up straight as she gives an amused chuckle. She claps her hands repeatedly and says, "Oh, very well done, Emma. I'd say Evan did quite a bit for you."
I don't respond because I've already given him all the credit he's due.
We engage in a bit of a staring war, and it's completely awkward and uncomfortable. It's hard to do battle with the great Midge Payne. Just as I feel my resolve weakening and I'm ready to let my gaze drop, Midge leans back in her chair and crosses one elegant leg over the other. "You're making a bad decision, Emma."
"I don't think so," I rebuff her, not willing to let her get in my head.
But she's undaunted. "Evan's the best thing that ever happened to you--"
"--he was with another woman," I can't help but blurt out.
"--and you're going to let him get away if you don't wise the fuck up," she continues, unperturbed. "You know damn well he didn't do anything to betray you."
"He was with another--"
"Emma," Midge snaps at me, and I jerk with surprise over the venom in her voice. "I know damn well he wrote you an email that explained what happened. Tyler set him up. Got him drunk, possibly drugged him, and he arranged for that woman to be in his bed. He didn't do a damn thing with her other than share a bed in a passed-out condition. Even his friends verified that all he did was talk about you all night. He had no intention of cheating on you, and perhaps the only thing he's guilty of is trusting in the wrong person. So yeah... I know he wrote you that email, and more importantly, I know damn well you read it. In fact, I bet you couldn't help yourself. And I want to know why you're being so damn stubborn about this."
I grit my teeth because I hate everything she just said.
I hate it because yes, I read his email, and perhaps Evan was telling me the truth that nothing occurred and he had nothing to do with that woman. But it's all coming from Evan, a man who I found in a very compromising position.
I don't know what to believe.
I know I want to believe him, but I would do so wondering at the same time how much of a fool I'd be if I did. Worse yet, if what he wrote in that email is true, then I'm a complete and utter bitch for not reacting to his email. I'm heartless for not reaching out to him to talk about it. He sent me that email five days ago and it's gone unanswered, my cold silence making it clear there's nothing left to say.
"It doesn't matter," I say softly, letting my gaze drop down to my hands where they rest tightly clasped against my dull, boring brown skirt of creped polyester. "I'm not cut out for that life anyway."
"You know he fired Tyler," Midge says offhandedly.
I nod without looking up. "He told me that in the email."
"He's going to take the deal with Phoenix," she goes on to say. "Without an active manager and without someone to help him handle an indie career, he thinks it's best to go ahead and go with a label."
At that, my head shoots up. "It's not what he really wants though."
"I see you do know my nephew," she says with a smile. "But regardless, he doesn't feel he has any other options. I'm looking over the contract now, and we'll ask for a few changes, but it's pretty much a done deal. They're pushing for a three-album deal."
She's baiting me, but I don't rise to it. It's not my problem what Evan decides to do with his career, and it's certainly none of my concern.
"Are you going to get me that job at Crowley and Padrick?" I ask with resolve.
"Maybe," she says evasively, then reaches over to the phone on her desk. She picks up the receiver, hits one button, and says, "Cary... darling... can you come into my office? Your wayward daughter is sitting in here and perhaps you can talk some sense into her."
Now that's low.
I start to stand up from the chair, completely intent on walking out of her office. She just points a finger at said chair and says, "Sit."
My butt drops faster than Sirius' ever has in our training sessions.
Midge even says, "Good girl."
I fume as I glare at her, but, within less than thirty seconds, my father's walking into her office.
"What's up, babe?" he asks, and I have to suppress an eye roll at their easy and flirty banter in the face of these very important ca
reer decisions I'm trying to effectuate.
"Your daughter's asked me to get her a job at a law firm in the western part of the state. She's being pigheaded and stubborn, and I figured you should have a crack at her before I grant her wish."
My head tilts and I look to my left as my dad takes a seat in the chair next to me. He angles his body my way and crosses one leg over the other. He looks healthy and fully functional, so I suppose it's not going to hurt his heart too bad for me to leave him.
"What's going on, Emma?" he asks in a very fatherly voice.
"I would like to make a career change," I say succinctly. "I want to try mergers and acquisitions, and Crowley and Padrick is the best firm in the state for that. It's a very good move for me professionally."
Midge snorts. "She's running because she knows she's fucked things up with Evan, she knows she's wrong, and she doesn't have the guts to fix it."
"Easy, Midge," my father says in a low, warning voice, and I doubt anyone in Midge's life has ever talked to her like that. Her eyebrows rise upward in surprise, then her eyes narrow on him.
"Cary," Midge says in exasperation. "Evan loves her, and she loves Evan, and it's ridiculous that they--"
"Get her the job," my dad says, cutting Midge off mid-sentence.
"Pardon me?" she says in surprise.
"Get her the job," he says and stands up from the chair. "Let her make her own mistakes. How will she ever learn otherwise?"
Now I'm affronted.
"This is not a mistake," I snap at my dad.
"Prove me wrong," he says curtly and then turns to Midge. "We still on for lunch?"
She gives him a gamine smile, her lips tipped upward appreciatively over the way he just put me in my place all while giving me the noose to hang myself. "Of course, darling. Maybe we can head to your house for lunch."
At her suggestive tone, I gag internally but also turn my glare on her, peeved she's enjoying my discomfort.
My dad turns to me and says, "Emma... let me know when you're moving. I'll be glad to help with the expenses."
And with that, he turns around and leaves.
My head turns slowly back to Midge. She makes a shooing motion with her hand and says, "Run along, Emma. Clear out your desk. I'll have the job arranged by the end of the day."
I walk out of her office having received exactly what I came in for, and yet I feel like I've lost everything.
Later that night, I sit on my bed and let my fingers rub absently over my phone screen. It's dark as the phone is in sleep mode, and I ponder everything that happened today in Midge's office. As promised, I received an email from her at half past four, telling me I was to start at Crowley and Padrick the following week.
It appeared I was moving across the state.
With a sigh, I turn the phone on and skim through my Contacts. With an iron resolve, I choose my quarry and I dial.
Tyler answers on the second ring. "What do you want?"
"The truth," I say softly.
Tyler gives a dark laugh. In a voice filled with malice, he says, "The truth is that Evan cheated on you. He found someone far more beautiful and sexier than you, and he banged the fuck out of her in the same bed he used--"
I hang up on him, my heart racing.
That's not what I expected.
Or what I wanted.
I wanted him to confirm for me all of Evan's suppositions, but instead, he just shoved my greatest fears right down my throat.
At least, I think he did. That could have just been the fact he's an asshole, lost his job, and is now taking his ire out on me. Can I really expect him to give me the truth?
Before I can talk myself out of it, I flip over to my email and I scroll through my inbox, looking for the one Evan sent me five days ago. I don't bother reading it, instead hitting the reply button.
I quickly type out a message. Midge told me you were going to sign a three-album deal with Phoenix. Don't do it. That's my opinion.
I hit send before I can second-guess my actions, and then I turn my phone off so I don't see if he replies. I don't want to be tempted to engage with him.
I'm terrified if he does, it will be clear just how big of an idiot I might actually be.
The next morning, I turn my phone on and brace myself to see what Evan had to say.
There's nothing in my inbox.
He didn't respond.
CHAPTER 27
Evan
Two months later...
Midge strides through the restaurant looking like she's on the catwalk in Milan. She's wearing a lavender sleeveless dress classically cut with matching lavender pumps and a cream-color cardigan over her toned shoulders. Many of the men, most way younger than her, turn their heads to watch her strut by.
I stand up from my chair as she approaches, and she walks into my arms for a long hug. She leans back, still holding on tight to my upper arms, and lets her eyes roam all over my face. Finally, in a rare display of emotional affection, she murmurs, "I've missed you, kiddo."
"Missed you too," I say gruffly.
She squeezes my arms and releases me before sitting elegantly in the chair adjacent to mine. We're at a table that seats four, but it's tucked away in the corner of this upscale, downtown steakhouse. I'm vaguely aware of the people chittering around us, as I was immediately recognized when I walked in five minutes ago, and of course, Midge always makes a grand entrance.
Our waiter appears practically out of thin air, and Midge and I order drinks. A pineapple martini for her, a beer for me.
"Well," she says dramatically when the waiter leaves. "Tell me all about it."
She's asking about my concert tour, of course. It's over and now I'm back in Raleigh, getting my bearings and gearing up for the next chapter in my musical career.
Smiling fondly, I tell her the simple truth. "It was amazing. I was nervous as shit each time I went out on that stage, but then I always settled, and it always felt... just so right. I can't wait to do it again."
She nods in agreement. "You were amazing in New York. Never been more proud of you. I'm sure your parents are too."
Midge had flown there to see me perform. It wasn't a surprise, as she'd have liked, but without a manager to help arrange such surprises, she felt it best to give me a head's-up she was coming. She watched from backstage and her presence there felt really damn good.
I cock an eyebrow at her over the comment about my parents. They'd been invited to all my shows but hadn't attended one yet. "You really want to go there, Aunt Midge?"
She gives me a sheepish grin. "Well, I'm sure they'd be if they ever bothered to care about anyone but themselves."
This is not typical of Midge. She usually plays the peacemaker in the tumultuous relationship I have with my parents. I rebelled a lot as a younger kid, craving the attention of parents who just didn't have it in them to give. When Midge stepped in and took over as the main role model in my life, she did so with a determined effort for me to never forget my mom and dad.
It was a valiant attempt by her, but over the years, I stopped caring. They lived happy and fruitful lives and well, so have I. Midge gave me everything I could ever need, and continues to do so.
"Let's get a little business out of the way," she says, her voice going from doting proud aunt to shrewd legal shark. "The copyright lawsuit's been dismissed and all the papers filed."
"Awesome," I say. Because it is. Midge took over the case since Emma left, and she got my former bandmates to agree to a lump sum of seventy-five thousand, which I assume they split three ways. They also signed a confidentiality agreement and I am now free from that drama.
"I've also gone over the breach-of-contract suit," she says briskly. "He doesn't have a leg to stand on, but I'm betting he's going to drag this out all the way. He's looking for a quick payday and will probably jump at any offer you make to him."
I grimace. The "him" she's referencing is Tyler. Two weeks ago, a sheriff's deputy served me in Washington D.C. with a lawsuit Tyl
er filed against me for breach of contract and wrongful termination. Figures that fucker would still want to take a piece of me, which infuriates me considering all I lost because of him.
"Don't offer him a fucking dime," I growl at her from across the table. "Not one penny. Drag this out for years if you have to, and if you want to make him suffer in the process, that would make me very, very happy."
Midge chuckles. "That's definitely part of my DNA swimming in your veins. Never one to back down from a fight."
"Damn skippy," I mutter. "Now let's move on to more pleasant things to discuss."
We continue to chat, getting caught up on each other's lives. While we talked frequently by phone while I was on tour, it wasn't the same as just good old one-on-one time with a loved one. Midge spends a great deal of time talking about Cary, and this is done with an unbreakable smile on her face. It amazes me still how much she's changed since she started seeing him. I swear, if it's possible, she actually looks even younger because of it.
The waiter brings our drinks.
We order thick ribeye steaks with fried Brussel sprouts.
We talk about everything under the sun.
Well, almost everything.
"So, Cary and I are thinking about taking a trip in the fall," Midge says as she daintily cuts off a piece of steak.
"Oh, yeah?" I ask. "Where are you going to go?"
She shrugs as she holds the steak poised on the tip of her fork. "We're batting around a few ideas. Maybe Europe."
"Sounds great," I say with a smile. She gives me a pensive look, puts the steak in her mouth, and delicately chews as she stares at me.
After she swallows, she points the fork at me. "Want to come with us? You could use a vacation."
I'm shaking my head in the negative. "A romantic trip to Europe and you drag your nephew along? No thanks. Not into being a third wheel."
Midge chuckles and puts her fork down. Picking up her second martini, she rotates her wrist to swirl the liquid before taking a sip. When she sets the glass down, she looks at me slyly. "You don't have to be a third wheel. You could bring someone."
I thought that empty feeling would have diminished by now, but every time I think of what could have been with Emma, my chest cramps from a deep hollowness within.
While I had promised myself I was not going to ask Midge about Emma, I find myself almost obsessively curious about her right now. I've purposefully refrained from bringing her up to Midge over the course of the last few months as she has intimate knowledge about Emma and what she's up to. While I refused to ask it didn't mean that I wasn't always secretly hoping Midge would drop me a little nugget of information that would appease my curiosity, but she never did. I think she was trying to make me suffer for the fact that I refused to reach out to Emma, particularly after she sent me that email telling me not to take the Phoenix deal. I didn't know what to make of it, but ultimately... it didn't matter. She clearly wasn't moving past the "incident" because she didn't say a damn word about it. Didn't ask me how I was doing or if I was lonely, or tell me she missed me.