"That's good. You look great."
"I know." She flicked her hair over her shoulder and smiled as big and wide as she possibly could.
Emery covered her mouth. This was not a side of Ashley she’d ever seen before.
The tension between them made the air feel thin, harder to breathe. Emery suddenly felt like a spectator at a tennis match, her head turning between them as they volleyed barbs disguised as pleasantries.
"I should go," Emery said, recognizing a private conversation when she saw one forming. "Give you two a chance to catch up."
"Don't," Ashley said quickly, her eyes pleading.
"Stay," Ethan agreed. "I'd love to hear how you're settling into Stone Bridge. That interview was impressive."
"You watched it?" Emery asked.
"Everyone watched it. You're the talk of the valley." Ethan's smile appeared genuine. "Takes guts to stand up and fight back like that."
"Or stupidity," Emery said. "Jury's still out."
"No," Ashley said, her voice softening slightly. "It was brave. And it's working—people are talking about your strength, not your scandal."
"See?" Ethan gestured toward Ashley. "Even she agrees with me. That's how you know it's true because we don’t agree on much.”
“I can agree you’re a pain in my ass,” Ashley said.
“I have so much I could say to that.” He lifted his hand and motioned to the waiter for a drink.
“But you won’t, since my pointy heel is positioned nicely to do some serious damage.”
He shifted in the booth.
Regardless of the banter, there was heat beneath the words, something electric and dangerous. Emery recognized chemistry when she saw it, and whatever was happening between Ashley and Ethan could power the entire valley.
"You know what?" Emery gave Ethan a little elbow. He allowed her out, helping her to her feet. She stood, grabbing her jacket. "I'm going to head home. Leave you two to your very intense non-agreement."
"Emery—" Ashley started.
"Enjoy the night. You deserve it." Emery smiled at them both. "And Ethan? It was nice meeting you—seeing you again. I assume we came in contact with each other in high school.”
“Once or twice,” he said. “Get home safely.”
She left them staring at each other across the table, as if they were standing in the middle of the street, hands hovering over their weapons, waiting to see who got the first shot off. As she navigated her way through the maze of people, she looked for the stranger with the baseball cap, but he was nowhere to be found.
Outside, the October night had turned crisp, the kind of cold that promised winter wasn't far off. Emery pulled her jacket tighter and started down Main Street toward the vineyard. It wasonly a twenty-minute walk, and the fresh air felt good after the warmth of the bar.
She'd made it half a block when a voice stopped her.
"Well, well. The woman of the hour."
Emery turned to find Callie Callaway leaning against a storefront, arms crossed, expression venomous.
"That interview was quite something." Callie pushed off the wall and moved closer. "All that talk about integrity and fighting back. Very inspiring. Also very pathetic."
"I'm not doing this with you." Emery turned to continue walking.
"Running away? How predictable." Callie fell into step beside her. "But then, running is what you do best, isn't it? Running from scandal, running from questions, running into Devon's arms like that's going to save you."
"What do you want, Callie?"
