Page 99 of Crazy for You

She flinched, as hurt mixed with anger inside her, swelling into a big ball of emotion in her chest. “Just like that? We had our first fight so now you’re breaking up with me?”

“We always said we’d go back to being just friends when the time came. And the time is now.” His voice sounded flat, distant. Cold.

“That’s just…what the actual fuck, Ryan?” She didn’t know whether to cry or punch him.

“What did you expect?” he asked, looking genuinely confused.

“Too much, I guess.” Tears pricked behind her eyes, and she blinked them back, desperate to hold on to her anger until he had gone.

“Well, there you go.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, pinning her in that dark, angry gaze. “You wanted me to help you be a little bit bad, right, Emma? You wanted a hot fling with a guy like me, but I’m not?—”

“Stop right there,” she cut him off. “Fuck you, Ryan. Good-bye.”

23

Emma woke on Sunday with a sore heart and puffy eyes. She still didn’t know exactly what had gone wrong with Ryan because surely he hadn’t dumped her just because she’d encouraged Trent to follow his dreams.

And if he had…if their relationship meant that little to him? Well, then screw him. And good riddance.

She buried her face in the pillow, wishing she never had to get out of bed and face reality. Smokey hopped onto her back and curled up for a nap, making Emma laugh. “That’s really not comfortable for me, you know.”

But Smokey was purring contentedly, and her familiar weight felt comforting right now. Smokey might hate her temporarily when she uprooted their lives and moved them to Georgia, but Emma had never been more grateful for the kind of unconditional love offered by her pet.

Ryan was such a pigheaded idiot…

Fresh tears welled in her eyes. Well, she hoped she didn’t see the stupid jerk again before she left town because she might just give him another piece of her mind, and she’d never been particularly eloquent when she was mad…or hurt.

Since today was her day off, her last day off before she wrapped up her work with Artful Blooms later this week, she dozed off again with Smokey still asleep on her back. When she woke up, it was nine thirty, her back was sweaty beneath Smokey’s toasty form, and she had to pee. Reluctantly, she rolled out from under her cat and went into the bathroom.

And then she decided to do something pretty unheard of for her…she decided to spend the whole day in her pajamas in bed. She loaded up a marathon of Gilmore Girls on Netflix, rooted around in the freezer for her emergency ice cream, and settled in for the duration.

The relationship between Rory and Lorelai reminded her so much of her relationship with her own mother. This show had always been one of her favorites. She laughed. She cried. She ate way too much ice cream. She snuggled a lot with her cat. Then she slept.

And by the time Monday morning rolled around, she felt ready to rejoin society. She was still hurting, still emotionally fragile, but life went on, with or without the man she loved. She’d always known she would probably lose him, although she’d never imagined he’d dump her in such a frustratingly unexpected way.

She took a much-needed shower and debated what to wear to her meeting with Angela Davenport at the future Silver Springs Lodge. She wanted to look nice, but she also had to go to work after. Finally, she decided on a pair of khaki cargo pants and a blue top.

She hopped in her car and drove to Silver Springs. The hotel site was on top of a hill with lovely views of the mountains surrounding it. Such a prime location must have cost a pretty penny. Emma didn’t know much about Angela Davenport other than that she wasn’t from the area. This seemed like an unusual project for an outsider. Emma’s curiosity was piqued.

She parked in the construction lot beside a string of other vehicles and got out, looking around for Ms. Davenport. She spotted the older woman coming out of the construction trailer and headed in that direction.

“Emma, I’m so thrilled you could make it,” she said, walking over with her hand outstretched.

Emma took it and shook. “Of course. You have a beautiful location here, Ms. Davenport. I can’t wait to see the lodge once it’s finished.”

“Call me Angela, please,” she said. “Let me show you around the building site to give you a feel for it, and then I’ll show you our mock-up of the finished product.”

“That sounds great,” Emma said, still having no idea why she was here but curious all the same.

Angela led the way across the construction site. Already the skeleton of the hotel was in place, beams and pipes and a whole lot of upturned earth. Emma’s eyes took in all the exposed red clay, already visualizing bushes, flowers, and walkways around the building.

“The lodge will face this way,” Angela said, indicating the sweeping valley in front of them. “Many of the rooms will have balconies overlooking the valley. We’re going for a very ‘mountain retreat’ feel here. We’ll have lots of amenities on-site for our guests to pamper themselves as well as a network of hiking trails into the mountains and down to the valley. I also have plans for an extensive garden area off to the side here.” She gestured toward the right-hand side of the property, where a large plot of land lay open and undisturbed, flanked by the valley on one side and forest on the other.

Emma imagined winding paths lined with lush flower beds. Benches for guests to sit, relax, and enjoy their surroundings or even read a book. Maybe flowering bushes along the outer edge to create a “hidden garden” feel.

It would be breathtaking.

Angela brought her to the construction trailer to show her mock-ups of the completed lodge. The garden area had been filled in with the most basic rendering of flowers and bushes.

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