Page 91 of Tender Offer
“You know what? Fuck this.” The rise in Emma’s tone startles me while earning the bartender’s frown. “I don’t want to feel this anymore,” she says, pointing to her heart. “No more!” I jump again.
“No more tears!” is a charge she releases into air thick with unspoken grief and the classical music that cascades from a hidden speaker system.
Her frustration—from love, loss, and possible lies—activates my voice, and I scream, “No more!” It earns another curious glance from the bartender, but ask me if I care.
“He left me for another work emergency, like I’m luggage he can put down and pick up whenever he wants,” I say. “I’m sick of it.”
I’m sorry, Puff.
I’ll be done soon.
Just a few more hours.
Every feeling I repressed to be the understanding partner slams into me. “If he wanted me, he would come and get me, but I’m not waiting around to find out.”
I’m ranting to Emma like I pay her an hourly rate and call her “doctor.” It fades with a double take at a person who’s staring at her back. His approach swallows the distance in long strides. My mouth dries, but I manage to whisper his name.
“Miles.”
They were both at the singles’ retreat with their respective best friends, which I assume explains whatever this is. Terrence’s best friend and Trevante Rhodes’s long-lost twin is here, and he only has eyes for Emma.
From what I remember, he’s as enthusiastic about commitment as Emma, who avoids relationships at all costs. It’s still weird to me that she and Justice, who are polar opposites, are so close, but I’ve seen stranger things.
Like Miles pining for Emma in the middle of a bar.
Why on earth is he here? Did they…no.
He clears all suspicion about his intentions with his chocolate stare that hasn’t moved from its target. His shadow stretches over her tighter than the tee that’s straining to accommodate the thick arms folded over his broad chest.
Emma repeats “Miles” to make sense of it but freezes at his “Kitten” in rich baritone. Her lips part, and her eyes go wide before narrowing to face him.
A brief staredown ensues, but Emma incinerates it when she tells him to “Save it.”
What requires saving is an answer I’d like to know. She and Miles are a pairing I never would’ve guessed. She asks me if I’m good on my own. I am, but I would rather stay to see how this plays out.
“Did you two—”
“Not your business,” she reminds me with the same clarity in her tone she used to call me a bitch. “You and I aren’t there yet, but this was nice.”
“It was,” I say to Emma, who is already on her way to the door. “See you around, Miles.”
My eyes slide from his small afro to his beard. Those weren’t at the singles’ retreat.
I snatch my ringing phone off the bar, scowling like Emma at the name on my screen.
“What excuse is there today, Preston?” I storm off without a goodbye for Terrence’s best friend or a hello for the man who’s two-stepping on my last nerve.
“Puff, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so distant.”
Damn him and his seductive voice!
“I’ll make it—”
“You’ll always make it up to me,” I gripe. I follow it up with a laugh, not giving the slightest damn who hears me. Nothing about this is funny except for the apology stuck on repeat.
“You changed.”
“Puff.”
