Page 21 of Boyfriend Maintenance

“A couple Christmases ago, I bought her this beautiful vase, she loves getting flowers, has them all over her house. Well, I picked up the vase on sale at this nice vintage boutique, it had her name all over it. You know, one of those gifts you see and just know you have to buy it for that person? Anyway, I kid you not, she took one look at the vase, scrunched her nose, and pushed it to the side.” She takes a drink, but she looks amused more than hurt. I’m surprised that there doesn’t seem to be an upset or spiteful tone in her voice.

“You mean she wasn’t thankful for the gift?” I lean back in my seat, a little surprised that I’m feeling defensive of Emmy’s feelings. Not that she’s having any kind of feelings I should be defensive over, but I digress.

“That’s exactly what I mean. She got mad at me. She was insulted that I gave her trash.” She air quotes the last word. Then her smile disappears, she twists her lips to the side, finallyshowing disdain. “That was the last time we spoke.”

“Wow. I don’t know what to say, other than good riddance.”

She smiles ruefully, bringing the straw of her drink to her lips but adds, “to bad trash.”

In that moment my heart thumps inside my chest. Maybe Emmy really isn’t like these people surrounding us.

She proceeds to fill me in on who certain people are. She seems to know everyone, so I’m surprised that no one comes to talk to us. It isn’t until we are about ready for a second round of drinks when her father finds us. While he doesn’t look as warm and inviting as I would expect a father to look, he doesn’t look as rigid as his wife. He has Emmy’s dark hair, but it has a generous sprinkling of salt through it. He’s tall and seems to be in decent shape. His mustache matches his hair—more salt—and I can tell he keeps it well-groomed. I’m personally not a fan of the ’staches, they can get out of hand and make most men look like tools. That’s my opinion though.

“Emmy, it’s nice to see you,” her dad greets.

I let out a breath when he walks right up to her and pulls her into a fatherly hug. She accepts the hug, and I can feel a sense of lingering from both of them, almost like they don’t want it to end—as if the peace between them in this moment is about to be lost. When the hug is over, she smiles at him with affection. It takes him a nanosecond to zone in on me.

“I’m Joseph King, Emmy’s father. You are?” He holds out his hand and I shake it.

“I’m Jake Harper, Emmy’s boyfriend.” I’m cool as a cucumber, folks. I wouldn’t normally set out to piss off the father of my girlfriend, but I’m not going to let him push me around. Especially since this isn’t the real deal.

“Hmm. I see. Well, I don’t think anyone knew you were bringing a date.” He looks around. “I was just talking to Craig, and I—well, we—were under the impression that the two of you were mending things.”

“I told Levi and Craig last week I was bringing a date, Dad. My boyfriend, to use the exact term.” She is all confident and it's turning me on. One thing that I’m realizing about Emmy King is that she might be a bundle of nerves on the inside, but when it matters, she’s got confidence in fucking spades.

I’m already sick of hearing of this stupid Cringey Craig guy, so I step in. “I would be happy to clear things up with Craig on the whole ‘getting back together’ thing.” I look around much like he just did, pretending to be looking for the toolbag. I don’t even know what this jackhole looks like. I see Emmy smiling next to me as I look though, and I’ll gladly play this role for her.

Mr. King clears his throat. “That won’t be necessary. Emmy, I’d like to find a time to talk tonight about some family matters.”

At this, Emmy tenses up. Huh. I wonder what these “family matters” are.

“We will see,” she replies, tight-lipped. She then excuses herself to the bar for another drink, leaving me and Mr. King standing awkwardly together. I just smile at him. He smooths down his suit jacket, tells me to have a good night before walking away.

“Two down,” I mutter.

“Sorry I left you. I thought it would be the only way to get him to go away.” Emmy slides into the seat she vacated moments ago but with another drink for each of us.

“No worries, he doesn’t intimidate me.”

“Really?” She cocks her eyebrow.

“Really. Should he?” I mimic her look. She shakes her head.

“No, I guess if you don’t already know who he is, then you wouldn’t be intimidated. He’s pretty powerful and wealthy as hell, people are always either kissing his ass or shaking in their boots.”

“Well, I guess I just followed your lead.” I get the feeling that we are being watched. I try not to make a point to look around, so instead I lean in and kiss her on the cheek.

“What’s that for?” she asks with a smile, playing it off like it’s normal.

“We are being watched.”

She nods in understanding. We continue on like this for a bit longer. When I no longer feel like we’ve got a shadow, I excuse myself to the restroom.

“I’ll be lighting fast.” I give her a peck on the lips this time. Damn. The PDA is starting to happen more and more.

“If I’m not here, I’ll be out there. Depends on if I need to hide from anyone.”

I chuckle as I head toward the restrooms I saw near the elevators.

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