Dirty Little Promise (Forbidden Desires #2)

“I’d love to. But I don’t eat Taco Bell either. It’s gross.”

Unable to help myself, I barked out a laugh.

That, as it happened, was the wrong move. She glared at me, snatching her wineglass from the table and taking an angry gulp before facing me down with a warning glare.

“At least let me ask the attendant what else they have.”

“Fine,” she muttered, taking another sip of her wine.

Folding my cloth napkin, I rose from my seat and ventured to the front of the cabin.

“Is everything okay, sir?”

“Yes, it’s fine. But my . . .” My what? Girlfriend? That didn’t seem right. Emma had once agreed to be my person, but I didn’t know if that still stood. “My companion doesn’t like the fish. Would you be kind enough to remove her plate and bring her something else?”

“Of course, sir. Right away. We don’t have any other entrée options, but we have yogurt and granola, fruit, and some snacks.”

“Bring everything you have. She’ll select what she likes.”

The attendant nodded and got to work. By the time I slid back into the wide leather seat across from Emma, the attendant was stopping her cart beside us again, offering Emma a variety of choices.

It amused me to watch Emma select a bottle of water and a bright yellow package of peanut candies. When the attendant was gone, Emma tore into the bag and popped a few candies into her mouth.

“Happy now?” she asked as she chewed.

“Yes, pet.” I took a bite of my own food, continuing to study her. I didn’t comment on the fact that the altitude and sugar would probably make her feel sluggish later. At least she was eating.

“Enough stalling, Gavin. Start talking, or the second we get there, I turn around and go back.”

I nodded. “Fine. It’s a little hard to know where to start.”

“The beginning is usually good,” she said, not without a touch of sarcasm.Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

I took a sip of my wine and gave in. “All right. Ashley was an agency girl, which I know Cooper told you. She came to us just off of her farewell tour with the New York Ballet Company, and she was, well, she was my type. Slender, dark-haired, and graceful. She was slightly curvier than your average ballerina, but knowing you, I’m sure you saw her picture.”

Emma stiffened for a moment, then nodded.

“I took her to the Met Gala with me. It was our first date and I thought, well, I assumed a girl like her, so young and having grown up so poor, wouldn’t really fit in at a place so fancy, but she quickly proved me wrong. She was the most radiant woman in the room that night, and when she took to the dance floor, she was like no woman I’d ever seen before. She was . . . she was always like that. She fit in every place she went, and she encouraged me to try to do the same thing. At a ballpark, she was one of the loudest people rooting for a team she’d never heard of until she’d gotten to the field. At an opera, she wept for the dying lovers, even though she didn’t know what they were saying. She was truly a special girl.”

Emma glanced away, but I could see the hurt in her eyes. I wanted to add that Ashley had a dark side that had eventually stolen her shine. And Emma? She meant the world to me. There was no comparison between them. But I knew any mention of our relationship when she wanted to pretend we no longer had one would only add fuel to the fire, so I remained silent, waiting for Emma to come to terms with what she’d heard so far.

She set her candy down with shaking hands and took a sip of water. Finally, she nodded. “Go on.”

“Anyway, Ashley loved life, and the same energy she’d put into dancing she essentially transferred to her relationship with me. She was young too, and it showed. At twenty-two, she was eight years younger than me, but there was something about her that made me not care.”

Emma shifted in her seat but remained silent. She refused to meet my gaze but I stared at her, studying her expression the whole time I spoke. The pain, the conflict, the curiosity, I saw it all, and knew the only way to make it better was to press on.

“So, with her youth came a lot of immaturities. She was jealous, even of the women I worked with. She was suspicious of my previous assistant, and absolutely hated Sonja. She was dramatic too. When she was angry, she would make it her personal mission to make sure everyone else was miserable too. Still, she was the breath of fresh air I needed at a time when I was working eighty- to ninety-hour weeks while our business grew. I’d gone on that way nonstop for three years, and when Ashley came around, it felt like a sign. I was thirty and it was time to settle down.”

“Were you in love with her?” Emma asked quietly.

I shook my head. “There was a time when I thought I was, but looking back, no. It never got that far, but I did love her. In my own way.”

“And you pursued me, why? Because I looked like her?”

I bit the inside of my cheek. I’d dreaded this question, but I knew I had to answer it honestly or Emma would trust nothing else I told her. “Yes, at first. I was intrigued. I have a very specific type that Ashley—and you—fit.”

“I see,” Emma said softly, leaving me to wonder how she felt.

“The truth is the first time I saw you, I could hardly breathe—hardly think—hardly move. It’s a wonder how I approached the counter and ordered my espresso.”

Emma blinked at me, waiting, wanting more. I pushed my plate away and leaned closer to her.

“I battled with myself, wanting you from the very first moment. Holy fuck, did I want you. But after everything I’d been through—the suffocating grief, the condemnation, the fucking media circus—I just couldn’t do it again. I didn’t know if I’d make it through all that again. And I imagined, maybe you were just like her. Maybe all of my relationships with women were meant to end in death and destruction—like my mother and then my first serious girlfriend. It was better to stay away. But, of course, that was easier said than done.”

The flight attendant chose that moment to come back. She removed my plate and refilled my empty wineglass before swishing away again, leaving us alone in the pressure-filled cabin to navigate this shaky new existence.

Emma lifted her eyes to mine, waiting for me to continue.

“But the honest truth is, you and she are two very different people. She was troubled, and difficult at times. Stubborn, immature. But you’re independent and strong. Sure of yourself. And also, not. Also seeking. Just like me.”

Emma looked down, wringing her hands in her lap. I was laying myself bare, and though I hadn’t told her everything yet, I prayed that by giving her all this history, she’d see the real me. Hopefully, she’d see through the fucked-up layers that blanketed my soul, and maybe she’d accept that what happened to Ashley had been an unfortunate accident.

“Then one day I just decided, fuck it. You hadn’t found another coffee shop, hadn’t changed your routine in all those months, and I was weak, ready to throw caution to the wind. I wanted to see where this could lead. But instead of asking you out, instead of introducing myself and sitting down to talk, I decided to test you. That’s what the business card was, you know? A test.”

At this, her head snapped up and she held my gaze. “Did I pass?”

“Beautifully. I never imagined you’d come into the office like that. So brave, my little pet. So . . . everything.”

Emma flinched as I leaned forward to touch her, causing me to draw my hand away.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded, but I could see a new sheen in her eyes that hadn’t been there before. Damn it.

“Emma, look—”

“It’s all right. I’m finding that the altitude is making me feel a little unwell.” She stood and turned away, hiding her face from me with a sniffle. “I’m going to splash some water on my face, and we can continue this when we get to Florida.”

When she was gone, I swirled the wine in my glass wistfully. I’d known no good could come of this conversation. To me, Ashley was all tragedy and heartbreak. The best things about her, the memories of us laughing or joking around, had faded over time. And in truth? I found them just as bitter as the rest of it now.

Still, I didn’t want to mar the memory of a good person by sharing too many details of her disease. The way the drugs had taken hold of her; the way she’d lied and cheated toward the end. And the way things had eventually ended.

Still, if not telling might cost me Emma? I had no choice. Hopefully, what I’d shared today had been enough for both of us.

A short time later, Emma rejoined me, her eyes watery but clear.

“Thank you for taking the chance and coming with me,” I said sincerely.

She gave me a shaky nod. “What’s on the agenda for this trip?”

I released the breath that had been pinned in my chest as I realized she’d been left as raw from our conversation as I had, and had decided to put a pin in it.

“The usual, really.” I shrugged. “It’s a golf outing with dinner and a cocktail hour. Did you bring along clothes for that kind of thing?”

She nodded again and then went quiet.

For the rest of the plane ride, there was an Ashley-sized wedge between us that was as tangible as if she were sitting right here. As much as I welcomed the reprieve, there was no doubt.

Eventually, it was all going to come out.

And the only question that remained was whether Emma’s feelings for me would survive it.