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I’ll be right there. Don’t let her leave.
Grabbing my keys, I’m out the door in seconds.
Entering the bar, I spot Olivia and Emma right away. Olivia is rubbing Emma’s shoulder as Emma wipes away her own tears. Seeing her like this kills me. My chest aches in discomfort. I approach slowly and pull a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet. I move between Olivia and Emma and toss the bill on the bar, setting her empty glass on it.
“You’re coming home with me.”
“Grayson.” She stares at me, her eyes glossy and puffy, seeming to struggle with my presence as if she dreamt me up.
Reaching out, I stroke her cheek and she leans into my touch, giving me a minuscule amount of relief. “I’m here and I’m taking you home with me.”
Her lip quivers before she speaks. “My birthday is tomorrow. I don’t want to spend it with you anymore.”
With my thumb, I wipe away a stray tear. “Emma, you’re drunk. Come home with me. I’ll take care of you.”
“Will you take me home? I want to go back to my apartment.”
“Yes.” I take her hand and she moves off the barstool, her shoulders slumped and her eyes weary. Putting my arm around her waist, I hold her close. I give a nod to Olivia. “Thanks.”
She nods back and watches with curiosity and confusion in her eyes. I’m sure she’s surprised to see me. She herself had called me drunk and crying, and I told her to call a friend. I’m such an asshole.
I place Emma into the passenger seat and see her lids are heavy. Taking off my jacket, I place it around her. She nestles into the leather seat and closes her eyes. I look over at her when I get in. She looks tired, sad, and helpless. I can’t leave her at her apartment to wake up alone and miserable on her birthday, so I head to my condo.
Carrying her inside the lobby attracts attention, but I don’t care. I nod to onlookers as I press the elevator’s close door button. She’s asleep in my arms, peaceful and trusting. How different this night could have turned out if I’d kept her away from Arnold. All she wanted was a nice birthday dinner with her boyfriend and his father. What she got instead was a man who fears commitment and his chauvinistic, narcissistic father.
Holding her in my arms, I struggle to put the key in the door. I manage to get through with her only stirring slightly. A ting sound comes from my feet and I look down. The bracelet I bought her is lying broken on the floor.
I gently move it with my foot, so I can close the door behind us. Carrying her to my room, I place her on my bed and remove her heels and dress. Down to her lingerie, I tuck her into the blankets and she stirs.
“Grayson, am I home?”
I stroke her cheek as her words clench my chest. “Yes, Princess. You’re home.”
Chapter Eighteen
Emma
When I wake up my skull feels like little goblins snuck in through my ears and are hammering on the walls of my brain. That’s how bad my hangover hurts. On Grayson’s night stand is a tall glass of water, aspirin, and a black, flat box with a small box on top of it, both wrapped in gold bows, but he’s nowhere to be found. I go for the aspirin and water then bring the boxes in front of me and untie the bows. The top box is filled with a stunning pair of diamond and sapphire earrings that match my broken bracelet. Shit! Where is my bracelet? Panic sets in and I move off the bed and search through my dress, shoes, and purse. I can’t find it.
The sound of the front door opening causes my nerves to splinter. Damn it! Why am I at his condo? Hurrying, I put my dress and shoes on, then sit on the edge of his bed and open the second box. My bracelet, it’s fixed! I let out a breath of relief and my heart skips a beat. He had my bracelet fixed and got me matching earrings. My emotions swirl in my belly and nausea threatens to turn to vomit. I’m so confused right now and this hammering headache is not helping. I hate you, Jose Cuervo.
The smell of food churns my stomach even more. Seriously, today is my birthday and I could not feel any more miserable. There’s only one thing I can do to begin feeling better. Rushing to Grayson’s bathroom, I close the door before he enters his bedroom.
I turn the shower to hot and within minutes the room is steamy. Stepping in, I immediately feel soothed by the warm water running over my body. My tight muscles begin to unwind. Reaching for whatever shampoo he has, my hand stops mid-reach. My body wash! He bought my body wash! I snatch it up like an old teddy bear I just re-discovered and scrub myself head-to-toe.
Hearing the bathroom door open, my relaxed muscles tighten all over again.
“Emma?”
“You bought my body wash!”
I can’t see him, but I’m pretty sure he just smiled when I hear his tone change. “I did.”
“You fixed my bracelet too?”
“I have it under warranty. The jeweler replaced the whole bracelet.”
“And you got me earrings.”
