Page 55 of Ten Christmases Without You
“It looked like you weren’t worried about imposing on the dance floor last night.”
Emmy frowned. “Don’t start. It was just a couple of dances.”
“And a whole conversation at the table after. I saw how he looked longingly into your eyes when you were telling him about how you walked out on Vivienne. I doubt he heard anything you were saying.”
Emmy laughed incredulously. “Okay, a couple dances and a conversation. But everything else you said is your own fabrication. There was nothing else going on between us.” While she’d have loved for that answer to be different, she was in no position to move out of the friend zone.
“Only because the reception was ending, and he wanted to check on Amelia.”
Emmy zipped up her suitcase and set it on end.
“I was hoping that he’d ask you to go somewhere for a nightcap while we were waiting for the shuttle to the hotel, but I knew he’d be too considerate of me to do it.” Madison got off the bed and rolled her suitcase over to the door. “I almost faked a stomachache to get you two alone.”
Emmy shook her head and laughed.
Madison put her hands on her hips. “Why are you laughing? It’s so obvious that you two should get together.”
“I’ll tell you what: I’ll consider the idea once I get my own life together.”
Madison rolled her head dramatically. “If we have to wait for you to do that, never mind!”
Late that evening,Emmy was back in her apartment with all the festivities behind her. She dropped her sketchpad onto the table in frustration. She’d spent the flight drawing a fifties-inspired drop-waist dark green dress with cream trim. The drawing had been her focus to keep her from thinking about Charlie. He was a distraction she didn’t need. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, where she wanted to go, or how she’d get there.
She closed her eyes to shut out her dingy apartment and Charlie’s green eyes filled her mind. He certainly was easy to look at. And carrying a conversation with him was effortless.
But it wasn’t the right time to move beyond friendship with Charlie. She had nothing to offer a relationship right now, and heaven forbid, if things didn’t work out, it could ruin theirfriendship. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she did anything to wreck what they had. Even though she barely saw him, he was the closest thing to a real friend she had these days.
Hungry, she opened the fridge. There was nothing to eat.
Emmy sighed and went to the pantry for a can of soup. As she pulled the can opener out of the drawer, her phone pinged and she leaned over to check it.
Hi, Emmy. It’s Viv. I just thought I’d check on you. I’ll bet you’ve opened your own PR firm by now. Let me know if I can offer any advice.
Emmy stared at the screen. What had shocked her more: the fact that Vivienne had texted her out of the blue or that her old boss thought she’d have her own PR firm by now?
She opened the can of soup, feeling more like a loser than ever. Had Vivienne checked on her because she knew that Emmy would be in the position she is now and might want her old job back?
Something had to change. She kept saying it, but then never put all her effort into it. No one was coming to fix her life for her. Emmy was the only person who could do that. She’d hidden behind excuses like “there are no jobs,” but plenty of people were doing just fine. She needed to do what Madison suggested and move. If that was what it took to push forward in life, she had to do it. Her lease was up in the next few months, so it would be perfect timing to find something else. It was time to make a plan.
She texted Vivienne back and said she was doing well. She hadn’t started her own company, but she was making plans to move out of state. Then, she sat down at her computer and started seriously looking for possible job opportunities.
Over the next hour, she jotted down a couple of entry-level PR positions across the country: one outside of Dallas,two in Florida, and another in Maryland. Then she updated her resumé.
Once she had a bowl of soup in her belly and a list of jobs to explore tomorrow, she finished unpacking her things and settled in for the night. Hanging her clothes in the closet, she saw her mom’s dress at the back, which jogged her memory of Mitchell Augustine’s coffee request. She’d been so busy with the wedding that she hadn’t given it another thought until now.
She looked down at her worn jeans and thrift-store sweater. Would she make a good impression? This was someone who’d most likely known her mother in her prime—young, beautiful, dressed in Parisian clothes, and sipping espresso at Café Lumière. While Emmy didn’t feel she was at her best, it might be better to schedule something with Mr. Augustine before she was in the throes of job hunting.
She sent him a message, telling him to name the time and place, and she’d be there.
To her utter surprise and dismay, he responded immediately to say she should meet him the day after tomorrow at Cadeau, off 57thStreet, at 10:00 a.m. She sucked in a breath: 57thStreet was considered one of the most expensive streets in the world. She’d always wanted to go, but had been too intimidated, given the wealth and beauty of the clientele.
Ugh.She should’ve thought this through. Until now, Mitchell Augustine had been a mystery behind her computer, but with this message, he’d jumped right through the screen and into her reality. And the reality was that she had no business going for coffee with a billionaire.
She had two days to get herself ready.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
After her shift at the coffee shop, Emmy went into a couple of clothing stores, looking for something to wear to her meeting with Mitchell Augustine tomorrow. Given her budget, she wasn’t finding anything suitable. She called her sister.
