“No way. I am not going to dinner with a stranger.” The card feels like a lead weight in my hand.
“Yes, you are. This is awesome. He sent you shoes! That’s better than jewelry!” She starts taking the shoes off the sticks and pairing them together on the couch. “I’m picking your outfit!”
“No, you’re not. I am not leaving you to go out. This is our vacation, remember? Our sister’s sabbatical.” I take the shoes and place them back in the basket.
“You’re going. Besides, I am so tired from all the walking today. I’ll be more than happy to drink a bottle of wine on the patio and talk to Adam.” She leans down and grabs the navy Sperry’s and walks them over to the closet. “I know just the thing for you to wear!”
“I don’t think you’re listening, I’m not going.”
She opens my closet and pulls out my favorite yellow racer-back tank dress. “Emma, yesterday you were sobbing on the grass. Today, a beautiful man wants to take you out to dinner. Let me ask you, do you want to be the girl who cries in her hands or do you want to be the girl who has fun?”
Her question takes me completely by surprise. Is that who I am? The girl who cries? It’s not who Iwas. I was the mature one. I took care of our family. I didn’t need taking care of.
I take the dress from her hands and walk into the bathroom. “You’re doing my hair!” I shout before slamming the door in her face.
The note said, “Dinner. 9pm.” There was no location. Hell, there wasn’t even a question in there. It’s as if I don’t have a choice whether I want to go to dinner or not.
I’m wearing the dress Leah pulled out. It’s tight and hits a few inches above my knees. The racer back makes it difficult to wear a proper bra so I put on a strapless one that’s thin and doesn’t show through the fabric. The front is a scoop neck and shows ample cleavage but nothing pornstar-esque. Leah insisted I wear the navy-blue Sperrys. It’s not the shoe I’d normally wear with a bright yellow but it works. The dress is cotton and casual. Sexy without looking like I’m trying too hard.
My hair is blown out with a soft bend at the ends. Leah wanted to do my makeup but I did it myself, subtle and natural-looking. As the clock strikes nine, I find myself fiddling with the gold “E” I wear around my neck. If someone writes something like “Dinner. 9pm,” you know they must be punctual.
“Am I supposed to wait here?”
Leah thinks for a second, then says, “Wait in the lobby. It’s less first date-ish.”
I agree and head out the door. My stomach is in knots. Is this a first date? It’s weird if it is because there won’t be a second. We’re in Italy, for Christ’s sake. I don’t even know where he lives. I’ll go back to Cedar Ridge and he’ll go back to . . . wherever it is he came from.
This is stupid. I feel stupid. I want to turn around and go back to the room. I should.
I turn on my heels and start heading back. Then what? Leah will just push me out the door again. And do I really want to be the girl who cries?
I do another one-eighty and head for the lobby. The clock behind the desk reads 9:05. Should I stand in the middle of the room? Have a seat? Ugh! I don’t want to look like I’m waiting. I walk over to the man behind the desk and ask him if we have any messages. This way if Asher walks in, I won’t look like I’m desperately waiting for him to arrive.
Which I’m not, for the record.
“Your name?” the man asks.
“Emma Paige.” I look over at the door. The anticipation is killing me.
“Paige?” A look of realization crosses his face. “A gentleman was here. I have no Paige. I told him you no stay here. I look in the computer and see you with Reingold. I tell him I’ll call. He leave.”
Asher was here and left already? Where did he go? I walk out the front door and look outside but he is nowhere to be seen. I can’t believe he is standing me up when he’s the one who asked to go to dinner. No. He demanded dinner. I didn’t have a choice in the matter.
I walk to the street, looking both ways. If he came in a car, it’s long gone. Where would he even get a car? No, he had to have walked and if he came from the boat he’s headed back to the marina.
I make my way toward the stone steps Leah and I walked up on the first day we got here, carrying our suitcases to the hotel. The stairs lead to the marina and is most likely the way he’s gone. Taking two at a time, I skip down the steps until I see his six-foot frame, walking down the path in a slow and purposeful manner.
“Where are you going?” My feet stop at the step I’m on when I see him. He’s about twenty steps below me.
Asher stops his descent and slowly turns around. The sun has already set, so it’s hard to make out his expression in the evening light. From his posture, it looks like he’s mad.
“Who’s Adam?” His voice is thick with inquisition.
Okay. That is the last thing I expected out of his mouth. “Why do you care about Adam?”
Asher doesn’t move and neither do I. We have a stand off on the steps while I try to figure out how he even knows about Adam.
“I gave your name to the man at the hotel. He said you were staying in Adam Reingold’s room.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Are you married?”
