Page 9 of Caught in the Middle

That tightness lifted the moment his eyes caught the raven-colored hair at the bar and made him do a double-take.

“Excuse me,” he said to the host who was leading him to a table, never taking his eyes off the woman across the room. “But I’m going to sit at the bar instead. Thanks, though.”

He switched paths and cut through the tables before he’d even heard the host’s response. Instead, he was focused on Emma. She was waving goodbye to a woman twice her age who was vacating the seat beside her, a couple of empty glasses still in front of the stool as Cam approached. He took what felt like his first deep and refreshing breath since leaving the hotel this morning as he closed in on her, noticing the way she leaned back in her chair, relaxed, one arm draped over the back, a leg crossed over the other and bouncing to its own rhythm. She radiated endless energy and vibrance, he thought, finally arriving at her side.

“Is this seat taken?”

Emma felt his arrival before she heard his question. Her breathing paused, her leg going idle. Then she quickly resumed her laidback appearance. The truth was, she’d been relaxed chatting with the woman she had met, but something about Cam’s presence made her tense–no, that wasn’t it.

“No. By all means, please have a seat,” she said. She’d spent last night in a goofy smile back in her room after dinner, a part of her having wished Cam did have more intentions than a platonic dinner. She shook her head, erasing those thoughts like she did last night. She had enough on her plate, and if he was interested then he would’ve said as much, but he probably knew better than to get wrapped up in the likes of her and her crazy soap opera.

Cam signaled the bartender and requested a beer before turning in his seat to face the woman next to him. “I wasn’t sure if you’d already be gone or not. I know you said this weekend, but I didn’t know if that started tonight or tomorrow.”

Was that a hint of relief in his voice? “No,” she laughed. “One more night. I leave in the morning.”

“Ah, yes.” He nodded. “Me too.”

She looked at those blue puppy dog eyes of his, wondering how he didn’t have an entourage of women trying to claim him.

“Are you ready for your reunion?” he asked casually, not wanting to face the knowledge they both left tomorrow, unsure why he was even thinking that.

Emma took in a big breath, moving forward to take a drink of her white wine before placing her arms on the bar. “Not even a little.” She touched her phone screen to check the time. “In fact, it’s taking place any minute.” She turned her head to the entrance.

“Oh,” Cam said, following her gaze. It was amazing to see this confident and radiant woman in a twist of nerves. “Here?”

She nodded, not looking too enthused. “It’s a sweet gesture since I’ve been gone for work all week, but I’m not as tired as they probably think. It would’ve been nice to go somewhere new tonight.”

She continued to stare at the entrance while he took her in, a small part of him wishing she didn’t have plans so he could fulfill that wish. The bartender came over with his beer and he turned toward the man and thanked him.

Emma turned back toward the bar too, though her body remained sideways to make it easier to look in the direction where her party would arrive. “I came down here because I was going to walk a hole in the floor.”

He laughed, his eyes dropping to that once again bouncing leg, and as if she saw where his attention went, her leg stopped and she uncrossed them and sat up straighter, letting out a laugh as she did so. “Is it super obvious I’m nervous?” she asked.

Cam gave her a small smile. He could lie, but what would be the point? She didn’t seem like the type who’d buy it. “A little,” he confirmed.

“So much for thinking the wine would take the edge off.”

He looked at her glass and then at her. “I think you actually have to drink it for that to happen.”

Emma looked at her wine and realized the glass was still half full. She’d been so immersed in her conversation with the woman who’d just left, that she hadn’t touched it much. “Fair enough,” she said, grabbing the glass and holding it up in between them. “Here’s to not embarrassing myself and proving that I don’t need anyone’s pity. I’m doing just fine.”

Cam grabbed his beer and clinked it with her glass. “Here’s to your happiness,” he said, swearing a small blush tinged her cheeks. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Before he could find out, he heard the quick approaching of shoes and an enthusiastic voice.

“Emma! Oh my gosh!”

Cam swore the women moved quicker than jungle cats as they embraced one another in a tight hug, one on the ground and Emma half out of her chair, her wine still in one hand. He reached up and took it from her, not that she noticed as she squeezed her friend tighter.

As they let one another go, Cam’s head snapped back, the realization of how familiar that voice had been finally hitting him.

“Lulu?”

“Cam?” she returned, in equal astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

Emma glanced from one to the other in pure confusion. “You know each other?”

“We work together,” they said in unison.

Before any more could be said, more footsteps approached and Cam found himself at a loss, turning his head from Lulu to the older man behind the couple walking their way. His head tilted in question.

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