Her gaze wandered from mine and she blinked back tears. I wanted to go to her, to hold her, to comfort her, but I’d lost that right, so I stood there like a useless sack of crap, wishing things could be different.

“In the third grade I had a French tutor named Collette. I used to pretend I needed extra help on my spelling tests so she’d lean over my desk and I could look down her shirt.”

Her eyes snapped to mine. “What?”

“Yeah. And when I was fourteen, my mom brought me to the Lincoln Center for the BCBG Max Azria show. I snuck backstage and peeked around a barrier and watched the models undressing in between their exits.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because. I never want to hide anything from you ever again. I’ve done things I’m not proud of—things I’d prefer stay in the past. I won’t let anything interfere with our future, so I’ll tell you anything and everything you want to know.”

“Ben, you don’t have to do that. I just . . .”

“What Emmy? Tell me how to fix this.”

“I can’t. I don’t know. You broke my trust.”

I took her hand. “Let me build it back.”

“Ready, darling?” My mom appeared beside us after returning from the restroom.

Emmy’s hand went limp in mine. “Yes, I’m ready to go home.”

I hated leaving things this way—so unfinished. My jaw tightened as I opened the door and helped my mom and Emmy inside the waiting car.

Emmy was silent and contemplative on the ride to Queens and I feared it was because there was nothing more to say.

When she exited the car, watching her turn her back and walk away was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Shielding herself against the snow, Emmy jogged up the front steps to her building and out of my life.

* * *

“You want me to do what?” Porter asked.

“I need your help with Emmy. I wouldn’t have come to you if I didn’t need you. But I do, man.”

Porter scrubbed his hands over his face. “I came to New York. I’m here. And I appreciate the airline ticket and hotel room, but I don’t know about the rest. Emmy makes up her own mind. I’ll talk to her, but she’ll have to decide what she wants.”

At Braydon’s suggestion of asking Emmy’s father for her hand in marriage, I’d gone a step further. I’d flown her whole family to New York City—the first time for all three of them—and put them up in a suite at the Waldorf Astoria. It was a little over the top for my tastes—too ornate—but I knew they’d appreciate staying at a historic New York landmark. Porter and I were currently having a beer at a bar around the corner from the hotel. He and I had some lost ground to make up since he’d caught me and Emmy in the act on her parents’ couch over Thanksgiving.

I knew in addition to speaking with her father—man to man—that I needed to win over her brother, too. He and I weren’t exactly on speaking terms, and I couldn’t say I blamed him. I couldn’t imagine any scenario where he didn’t want to punch me in the jaw.

“I want you to know I love your sister. I’m not giving her up. I’m never letting her go, and I give you my word that she’ll always be loved and taken care of.” I met his eyes, sincerity in my voice. I didn’t care that I probably sounded like the world’s biggest pussy. I loved her with my whole being, and I’d do anything to get her back.

Porter swallowed a gulp of his beer and released a deep sigh.

Her dad was a piece of cake compared to Porter. When I’d taken him and Sue to lunch yesterday, he’d been unsure at first, saying it was up to Emmy, but he wouldn’t stand in the way of her happiness. After lunch, he’d shaken my hand, clapped me on the back, and said as long as I promised to love her and care for her the way she deserved, then the past was in the past and he’d happily give me his blessing to ask her. Porter on the other hand was less than forgiving. Whereas Emmy’s parents had hints only of my past indiscretions, Porter had come right out and asked me about the tape. I thought I’d dodged the bullet well, telling him it was a one-time mistake and I’d been told the video had been destroyed.

Porter’s eyes followed the backside of a passing waitress. “Are we done here?”

“Actually I was hoping you could help me arrange something else.”

His eyes flickered back to mine with interest.

20

Emmy

Pulling on a pair of cream-colored wool tights and a soft gray knit dress, I checked myself in the mirror one last time. I looked tired. My curled hair and mascaraed lashes couldn’t hide the fact that I was miserable without Ben. My skin was pale and my expression was sullen. Oh well. It would have to do.

Ellie had succeeded in talking me into meeting her for a Christmas Eve drink in Manhattan. She promised me it would be relaxed and low key and said that the little twinkling white lights and Christmas decorations would lift my spirits. Either that or the rum-spiked eggnog would.

I was making an effort, just like I’d promised her I would. And I was trying, I really was. I’d been showering regularly and had been eating better, too. On the outside I appeared to be healing. But since seeing Ben randomly on the Upper East Side last week, my foolish heart latched onto how sweet and attentive he’d been, how sad and miserable he’d looked without me, the dark circles under his eyes indicating a lack of sleep. It tugged on my heart. But I was being strong. Even if it meant I had to give myself daily pep talks and cry myself to sleep each night.

To make matters worse, for the first time ever, I wasn’t going home for Christmas. My mom and dad had made plans with friends from church. She said that’s what empty nesters did, and since I was home for Thanksgiving, she didn’t think I’d be coming home for Christmas, too. It was probably just as well since I was willing to bet the memories of Ben’s last visit to my parents’ home would still be too fresh. The way he’d accepted my family and our lifestyle meant so much to me. But I couldn’t let myself focus on that now.

I slid on my brown knee-high boots and grabbed my purse. After bundling up and heading outside, I opted to spring for a cab rather than take the subway. For some unknown reason Ben had continued paying me my full salary, and being a hermit for the past several weeks I’d hardly spent a dime. I crossed my mitten-covered fingers that I could successfully hail a cab. Seconds later a yellow taxi pulled to a stop on the curb next to me. The simple accomplishment did wonders for my self-esteem. I pushed my shoulders back and slid inside the warm car. “The Waldorf Astoria, please,” I told the driver. The bar I was meeting Ellie at was inside the historic hotel.

When I arrived, a uniformed doorman greeted me and pulled open the doors of the bustling hotel. I wandered inside the massive and elaborately decorated lobby. The scent of leather and citrus furniture polish was in the air as I made my way toward the entrance of the bar.

I found Ellie sitting alone, chatting casually with the bartender. When she spotted me she hopped up from her stool. “Oh, good, you’re here!” She slung her purse over her shoulder.

“Are we getting a drink?” I noticed the distinct lack of beverages in front of her.

“I’ve arranged for us to have a tour of the hotel. This place is supposed to be really cool.”

I groaned. “I don’t want a tour. I just want to sit like a lump.” Getting myself dressed and out the door was a big enough adventure. Now I just wanted the drink I’d been promised.

“It’ll be fun. Stop whining,” she commanded, picking up her coat from the stool beside her and draping it over her arm.

“Let’s just get a drink and go home. Put on pajamas and order Chinese food,” I begged.

“No, come on. It’ll just be a quick tour.”

Knowing that arguing with a determined-looking Ellie was pointless, I dutifully followed her to the elevators.

She pressed the button for the top floor and grinned widely. She was being quiet. Too quiet, and something about her odd behavior was setting off warning bells inside my head. I couldn’t take another setup, and I would have no problem telling her no and leaving if that’s what this was. I wasn’t ready to date—now, or maybe ever. My life post-Ben was still in a tailspin. She just needed to accept that.

When the elevators doors opened I expected to find a hotel employee there, and maybe a group of tourists for the supposed tour, but the hallway was quiet and empty. I followed Ellie across the hall to a set of French doors. She knocked once and the door was pulled open. My brother Porter stood there, smiling back at me.

“Porter!” I squealed and threw myself into his arms.

“Hey, sis,” he greeted me, his southern drawl more pronounced than mine.

“What are you doing here?” I slugged his shoulder. How dare he come to New York and not tell me. He opened the door wider and I spotted my parents standing in the beautiful living room behind him. “Mom? Dad?” I crossed the threshold, now thoroughly baffled, and gave them both hugs. I blinked back a rush of tears as emotions roared through me.

“Hi honey,” my mom said, planting a kiss on my forehead.

“What’s going on?” My eyes danced around the lavishly decorated hotel suite. A large, bushy evergreen adorned with twinkling lights and red-and-gold ribbon stood in the corner and filled the room with the lovely scent of crisp pine needles. A glass cart held a combination of crystal decanters and stemware. The coffee table was lined with various appetizers and finger foods.

“We’re here to celebrate Christmas in New York with you, honey,” my mom said, smoothing my curls back from my face. My dad, Ellie, and Porter stood in the center of the living room, watching my confused expression.

“I don’t understand . . .” My eyes scanned the room, following my mom’s softening gaze.

Ben.

He stood tall and devastatingly handsome, dressed in a shirt and tie in the dining alcove just off the living space.

“Hi,” he said simply.

Had he arranged this whole thing? Flown my parents and brother here? Rented this lavish room? Filled it with a live Christmas tree and delectable foods? Coerced Ellie into dragging me up here? My heart stuttered in my chest. It was too much. He was too much. Knowing that he was here, fighting for me, trying to prove his love for me, filled me with longing. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I drank him in.

Ben crossed the room in three long strides, drawing me into his arms. His embrace lifted my feet clear off the floor and held me against him. He crushed me against his chest like he was never going to let me go. I hung there suspended in the air, big ugly tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t control the emotions warring inside me, so I didn’t even try. I had no idea what his gesture meant or where we’d go from here. All I knew is that I’d never felt more loved and cherished, and he hadn’t even said a single word yet. He’d spoken to me through his actions—what I’d wanted from him all along. He’d brought me my family, he’d brought me Christmas, knowing how important family traditions were to me. It choked me up and made my heart ache.

After several long moments of just holding me silently and letting me cry, Ben set me on my feet.

“Can we talk?” he asked softly.

I was all too aware of the roomful of people surrounding us, collectively holding their breath, waiting to see what I’d do. I caught my lower lip between my teeth and thought about what to say. How did I tell the man I was desperately in love with no? That I couldn’t have my heart broken again? I swallowed the dryness in my throat. How did I explain how completely he’d broken me? That I’d considered getting on antidepressants just to get over him? It probably wasn’t a good sign that my heart, mind, and body still wanted him, as much as I might try to deny it.

I turned to face our spectators. “This may get kind of loud, so if you’re squeamish, leave now.” When my gaze returned to Ben he was smiling crookedly.

“This way.” He took my hand and led me down the suite’s hall. We passed several doors on our way to the end of the hall. Lord, how many bedrooms did this suite have? Closing us inside a lavish bedroom with a queen-sized bed, writing desk, and chaise lounge, Ben caged me in against the wall, one hand splayed across my hip, one tilting my mouth up to meet his. His kiss was possessive, evocative, and hard. He was kissing me as though it was our last. The thought filled me with remorse. My brain screamed at me. I couldn’t lose him, but I needed to tell him what was on my mind before I lost myself completely to his kiss.