Page 39 of Take Hold of Me

She is rambling. Why is she nervous? Before I can catch his eye, his mamancontinues,“Can you stop by for a few minutes? It would mean so much to your father. And me.”

He grips the steering wheel so tightly that the veins on his wrists pop. “I’ll see if I can fit it into my schedule.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Just wonderful. I knew you’d come. And remember, you’re welcome to bring a date.”

In a tight voice, Wills says, “Right. Well, I’m arriving at my destination now. I’ll text you later. Bye.” His mother starts to say something, but Wills kills the call.

Classic rock fills the silence. “Yourmamansounds very nice.”

He rolls his eyes. “We’re not a close family.”

“Well, maybe if you go to the anniversary party, you will rebuild those damaging fences.”

A hint of a smile crosses his lips. “That’s ‘mend fences’—you ‘mend damaged fences.’”

Heat rushes from my shoulders up to my ears at his correction of my use of the American saying. After committing this newfaux pasto memory, I nod in thanks but he does not see me because his eyes are on the road.

“Emilie, my family isn’t All-American apple pie.”

“That is okay,” I say. “I do not like apple pie anyway.”

Silence reignsbetween us as we each nurse our own thoughts on the final turns to my house. Wills is the first to break it. “What do you say we go grab a bite to eat before tackling the packing?”

“I am not hungry.” Besides, I need to call McKenna and let her know about my change in plans. My shoulders droop with the weight of my impending call.

Wills pulls into my carport. “Look at me.”

I will not cry again. I am not crying again. His hand shoots out and wipes a tear away.Merde.

“It’ll be alright. They’ll understand.”

“I do not want them to understand. I want to be there to celebrate with my friends.” I am sounding like a spoiled brat, I know, but this is how I am feeling.

“I know you do.” He pulls out his phone. “How about you go and call McKenna, and I’ll order us take-out. By the time you’re done, I’ll be back with dinner.”

“I really do not want to eat.” My empty stomach chooses this time to rumble its agreement with Wills.

“Hmm. Humor me.”

I cannot deny my hunger considering my stomach voiced its vote. Rubbing my hand over my tummy, I sigh. “Okay. I will meet you inside.” I climb out of the Jeep and trod up my stone pathway. Not even my flowers bring a lift to my lips.

Once inside, I pull out my cell and flop down onto my sofa. Bringing up McKenna’s contact information, I press send. She picks up on the first ring.

“Hi there! How are you doing? All ready for the wildest bridal shower ever?”

“Bonsoir, McKenna.”

“Uh-oh. Nothing good ever follows a French greeting. What’s up?”

Because I cannot contain my energy, I get up off the sofa and wander over to the drawing Mamansent of Paris. I can almost hear her urging me to share with McKenna. I draw in a deep breath. “I got a telephone call today.”

When I do not continue, she prompts, “And?”

“And, well, I cannot make it to the shower. I must go to the Grand Cayman for a photoshoot. I am a substitute model, as Jaci broke her leg.”

“Oh, no! That’s awful! We’re going to miss you so much! I take it you couldn’t postpone?”

Turning my back on the drawing, I wander into my kitchen. This calls for something stronger than tea or coffee. I open the cabinet and take out a tumbler, my attention focused on finding my vodka. “No. I had told the Agency that I needed this weekend off. That I had a very important event to attend. They promised me they would keep these dates free.”

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