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I hold up my hand and ward off her coming complaint.
“Don’t bother, I know how you feel. Now just tell me,” I order.
Rochelle is my only female friend that I’ve not been intimate with, and never will be, so she is the perfect person to ask.
“From what I saw of her here at the office, she is not like the other women you date.”
I lean back and cross my arms.
“In what way?”
“Well…anyone you’ve ever dated is eager to be seen on your arm and enjoy all the attention that comes with it. Rob’s ex…”
“Call her Emily.”
“Fine, Emily doesn’t seem to be affected by things. She didn’t look at the platinum card you were trying to force on her as a gift, but a snake that might bite.”
Standing, I walk over to my coffee machine. Lord knows I am wired enough without the caffeine, but I need to do something with my hands. I set it up to brew, then look at Rochelle.
“Do you want one?” She shakes her head. “So, what do I do?”
“You stay the hell away from her. That’s what you do,” Rochelle quips.
Leaning against the counter, I glare at her until she finally sighs.
“Look, Alden, there is something you can do, but you’re not going to like it,” Rochelle says.
“I’m not going to stay away,” I say with conviction.
Fuck that’s a surprise. I really mean it.
Something about Emily calls to me in a way I can’t figure out. The few times we met prior to our run-in at the coffee shop, I never gave her a second glance. Not because she wasn’t my type or beautiful, but because she was dating my brother. Things changed that day, and I haven’t been able to look away since.
“So, if that’s your advice, forget it.”
“Although that is my first recommendation, no, that’s not what I was going to suggest. She is the type of woman who looks for stability. You told me that she’s worked hard and opened her store with no help. She is used to fighting, doesn’t trust handouts, and certainly isn’t going to fall into the arms of a man who wants to lavish her with gifts for a day, or a month, and then leave her broken-hearted.”
“What exactly are you saying?”
“For such an intelligent man, you really are thick sometimes.”
Rochelle stands and walks behind the chair, gripping the back.
“She’s looking for a real connection, a relationship, a marriage. You are not the relationship or marriage type, and she can smell it on you like a cheap cologne. No matter how much she likes you, wants you, or even fantasizes about you…you’re not winning her over by throwing things at her. So once again…just stay away before you hurt her or hell, hurt yourself.”
That comment cuts because I’ve purposely stayed away from relationships, so I don’t hurt anyone. Not only because of my extracurricular activities, but because after watching my parents—more specifically, my father—I just can’t see myself with anyone long-term.
“Now, as I was saying earlier. You have a three o’clock with Mrs. Jacobs.” She pauses. “As for your brother. The funeral will proceed this weekend according to your mother’s wishes.”
Rochelle turns and walks to the door, but then looks back.
“I’m serious, Alden. If you really like this woman, but you’re not ready to commit, then do her a favor and stay away.”
The espresso machine sputters as it finishes, and I doctor it with a splash of Irish Cream. Staring out the window at the busy city below, I think about my life. The rush of people, the hustle of getting ahead, and being the best at what I do used to fulfill me. Now it all feels a little flat and one-dimensional.
Two things are very clear to me. The first is that there is no way in hell that Rob’s death was an accident, no matter what any coroner says or the lack of evidence I can find. The killer is good, very good.
And second…Rochelle is right, I should stay away from Emily, but…I can’t.
