Page 61 of Things I Overshared
“What!” I stand to my feet, but I’m wobbly. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. I’m fine! Today is important—we can’t just leave.”
He looks at me, with all the rage Trina mentioned. “We can. You could be concussed.”
“This is ridiculous, Emerson.” I realize what I’ve done and try to recover. “Uh, I mean Mr. Clark. I didn’t hit my head. It was my side, I’m fine, Mr. Clark.” I sound like maybe I have hit my head now. He levels a glare at me and then reaches a hand in suddenly, under my towel and just barely touches my ribs. “Ah!” I wince and instinctively put my hand over his.
“Your ribs could be broken. We’re going to the hospital,” he says through clinched teeth as he pulls his hand away and stalks off again. My hand stays where his was, not because of the pain but because of the fireworks that have erupted on my skin under his firm touch.
“Notlike a sister,” Trina whispers in my ear.
“He’s probably just irritated because he thinks he’s responsible for me—like the family will get mad if anything happens to me under his watch or something.”
“Oh, he’s irritated, all right, but I’d bet a million pounds: either that man is in love with you, or I’m the fucking Dalai Lama.”
“I don’t think the Dalai Lama says the F-word,” I say.
“Pre-fucking-cisely!” she cries out as she bursts out laughing. I laugh too and then wince in pain.
“Ooooo. Okay, no more joking.”
“You all right, gorgeous? That was quite a spill.” Damian studies me as he takes a seat across from us.
“I’m fine, thank you. It’s nothing, really. We don’t need to turn back early for me.” I blush a bit at his tone, caring and flirty. I look for Emerson and see he’s chatting with Mr. Roberts, probably making up for my big flop—literally.
“Better safe than sorry, though,” Damian says.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“This really was a great idea to wow Roberts. How’d you know?” he asks with a sparkle in his eye. For the rest of the cruise back, we chat about June’s insider information, along with my other tricks for planning our Europe trip. He is genuinely impressed.
Trina joins in the conversation, and we talk about her experience running one of our retail stores with her mom. It’s an easy conversation with plenty of laughs, even if they hurt my side. I notice Emerson glance our way a few times, but he stays engaged with Mr. Roberts.
As the boat pulls into the docks, Damian texts both myself and Trina so that we’ll have his number, and I wonder if maybe I misjudged him as a sleazy sales guy, especially when he gives me a lingering hug goodbye and gushes in my ear about how he’s glad I’m okay. When I pull away from his hug, Emerson grabs my elbow and clears his throat. It’s awkward, and for a split second, I wonder if he’s jealous, or at the least, feeling possessive of me.
I exchange a quick glance with Trina, who is smiling wide. Just before I turn toward the car, I catch her mouth: “Not. Like. A. Sister!”
Chapter 18
Me: Four bruised ribs on the inside,
One purple Sam on the outside.
[Photo]
Susan: OMG!!!! Are you sure you’re all right?
Skye: So you weren’t exaggerating
Sally: Holy crap
Sadie: We need more details. So you fell off and what? They threw you a rope?
Skye: Here we go. Prepare to star in her next novel, Sam
If I tell you, do I get book royalties?
Sadie: It must be pretty interesting if you think it’s book-worthy . . .
Susan: Yes, what exactly happened?
