Page 74 of To Have and to Hold

Dave remained in the doorframe, his stance oozing defiance. But his better judgment must’ve gotten in the way because he said, “Yes. I’m supportive.”

“Tell me about her work,” I said as he stepped to the side. Our shoulders came dangerously close. One ill-placed touch and he would gladly wrestle me to the floor, and I would grin and meet his swings. I hope my black eye told him as much.

“I always thought it was one of those pretend jobs.” Dave held up his empty glass, widening the space between us as he headed to the bar. “I suppose I should offer you a drink.”

I surprised myself when I said, “Yeah, sure.”

Maybe the burn of bourbon would diffuse the instant aggression that formed around the two of us. I followed him through the small foyer and into an open main room, one wall completely covered in twelve-foot windows.

“She’s a party planner.” Dave stood in front of the small, black bar just off the kitchen. The clink of ice in glass was our soundscape, the city not having the wherewithal to make noise this high up in the clouds. I stood in front of the window, hands in my pockets, staring out at the staggering buildings—both in thought and in view. A geometric vision of metals and halogen lights, so bright and intimidating the stars couldn’t compete with the blaze.

Three seconds and Emme was beside me, gazing out at her home, her brows furrowed. Whenever she had a problem, or a layered thought, she’d always frown, her eyes shifting sideways until she solved it. This would’ve been her spot, right here. I wondered how many times her feet replaced mine and she looked out on this urban empire and thought, I’m happy.

“Great view,” I said as Dave handed me a glass. He didn’t gesture us to the couch, but remained beside me, both of us including downtown Manhattan in our discussion.

“It ain’t half bad,” Dave agreed. “You know, Emme always stood where you are right now.”

My wry, sad grin was a faded reflection in the window.

“I thought Emme’s work was cute,” Dave continued. “Her day involved picking out the right cupcakes, and don’t get me wrong, I like a girl who keeps busy. When I first met her, I thought she was just doing it until she found the right guy. You know, those jobs girls get after college that aren’t really careers, more of a holding place until the right husband comes along.”

I covered my derision by taking a sip of bourbon. A long one.

“Both of us have those kind of careers that require constant networking, so she understood me. Either I was going to her shit or she was going to mine. But she never shied away when thrown into a group of strangers.” He laughed, but it was laced with sadness and liquor. “Next thing you know, I’m being told my boss’s wife hates roses and loves lobster and we should have them over for dinner with gardenias as our centerpiece.”

“Emme’s—she’s a stickler for detail,” I said.

“No kidding. And Emme was good at it. When I met her she was planning sweet sixteens. As of last week, she was in the midst of putting together galas. She craved more of a challenge, and with the types of people she was meeting, she was getting there. And you know what? She didn’t need me.”

Dave remained shadowed in the apartment, but his face flashed with the city in front of him. A multitude of reactions crossed his expression, and I recognized every one.

“Instead, you realized you needed her,” I said. “I bet that was an unexpected kick in the ass.”

“Yeah. She’d take me to her events and I’d have her arm, but people would look to her first. And I found myself…proud. She glowed, man, and I was the luckiest guy in that room, I’ll tell you.” He looked down at his glass and said quietly, “Even luckier when she said yes.”

“She makes small talk look easy, doesn’t she?” I asked, refusing to be sucked back to the moment—the moment she said yes to us and the ruin that followed after. “Pretty sure she could thaw the iciest of men.”

Dave nodded into his drink. “She enjoyed challenges. Making people warm to her was one of them. Emme hated it when she sensed someone didn’t like her. As strong as she comes across, it actually hurt her feelings when a person didn’t smile back.”

“Anyone in particular you remember?”

Dave shrugged, and I watched the movement through his reflection. “Do I remember any altercations? No. At least, nothing that would make me think the dude would want to kidnap her. But she was meeting lots of powerful people, so who the fuck knows what these rich assholes do at night, right?” His brows crunched together as he frowned. “Sorry. Inappropriate. I keep thinking…”

“Don’t do that to yourself. The nightmares make it worse.”

He turned to me. “You really think it’s one of these guys at her events? That one of them took her?”

“Tell me more about the kinds of people she met at those places.”

“The money types. Emme dealt mainly with the wives, but the husbands and partners always turned up at these shindigs, too. Wall Street guys, investors, oil people, middle-aged trust fund kids, you name it. Hey, I think your people were even there once.”

“My people?”

“Yeah, the last event we were at. Some charity fundraiser for the NYPD, NYFD, somethin’ like that. I remember ‘cause some young dude introduced himself to Emme and she seemed pretty taken with him.”

“You remember who that was?”

“Uh…tall guy, stuck next to his father like glue. Oh yeah, his dad’s some bigwig TV guy.”

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