Redefined Lines

EMERALD

I ignored Tate’s messages all weekend but not because I was angry. Oddly, after talking to Mom, I wasn’t really angry anymore. I was, however, confused as shit.

It was my fault. I had let my crush color things between me and Tate.

He might not be my boss anymore, but he wasn’t my love interest either. As much as I would like him to be, Tate wasn’t my boyfriend.

He would soon be my husband, but it was an empty title. Just a name and a piece of paper.

I had to remember that going forward or there would be more problems like this. This was a business arrangement.

Tate said he wanted it to be real. I could play nice in public. As far as anyone was going to know, we would be so completely in love Disney would barf.

Under the surface, though, I’d have to keep telling myself it was only a name and a piece of paper. I had to keep my emotions out of it.

“Morning, Helen,” I said as I handed her the slip for the dry cleaning.

“Morning, Emma.” She smiled.

Helen was an older woman. Not quite elderly, but getting there. She ran the front of the cleaners while her husband and son worked in the back; they were all very sweet people—soft-spoken and mild-mannered.

“Were you able to get the mustard stain off the left cuff of that one shirt?” I asked as she pulled the bagged clothes off the rack.

“Not completely, I’m afraid,” she shook her head. “It’s hardly noticeable since it’s so small. We managed to lift the color a lot, but it’s still there.”

“That’s okay. I’m sure he’s already replaced it anyhow.” I waved it off.

“You’re not as frantic as you usually are in the morning,” Helen noticed as I signed the invoice and hefted the bag over my shoulder.

“I quit Thursday,” I shrugged. “I have a few things left to wrap up before I hit the unemployment line, so I figured I’d grab these on my way.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear that, Emma,” she frowned and shook her head. “We’re going to miss seeing you.”

“Yeah. Me too,” I smiled and left the cleaners as I sent a message to Tate.

Emerald

I have your clothes. We need to talk.

I dropped my phone back into my purse and started walking to the building where Tate lived.

“Morning, Ms. Wells,” Yuri said as he opened the door for me.

“Morning, Yuri,” I nodded to him.

“No coffee today?” he asked.

“Not my problem anymore.” I shrugged. “I quit on Thursday. I had some things left to do at the office and I figured I’d be nice and bring his clothes from the cleaners since it’s all on my way from my apartment.”

“You’re too good for him anyhow.” He nodded.

“Would you mind me asking how much you make an hour? I’ve put myself into a bit of a bind, it seems.” I smiled good-naturedly at him.

“Not as much as you were.” He chuckled. “I’m sorry to see you go. I liked you best.”

“You’ll still see me, Yuri.” I smiled as the elevator opened, and I walked in. “I’m kind of dating the asshole.”

“Oh. Congratulations, then.” He smiled as the doors started to close. “You’ll do him some good.”

I chuckled and shook my head. At least I had no problems spreading the word, right?

I stepped out of the elevator and gasped right as the smoke alarm started screeching.

“Tate!” I shouted, ditching the clothes as I raced to the kitchen and right into mayhem.

I snatched the dish towel from the oven door, shoved it at him, and pointed to the detector.

I shut off the stove and grabbed an oven mitt to move the pan and what looked like it may have been eggs to the sink and blasted the cold water.

My eyes stung, and I coughed as I waved at the smoke in a futile attempt to get a clean breath of air.

“Open the windows,” I hacked as I took over fanning the screaming detector.

The screeching stopped, filling the space with a deafening silence and the sound of running water as Tate came back from opening windows.

“Shit,” I huffed and coughed again as my airways burned a little. “What in the world were you trying to do? Make charcoal?”

“I was trying to make my breakfast,” he snapped, looking at the ruined pan in the sink as he shut off the water. “I was up early and decided some scrambled eggs sounded good.”

“Have you ever cooked anything before?”

“A few times, with Betty, the family’s cook,” he said. “Clearly, I’m not as good as she made me seem.”

“How long ago was this?” I raised an eyebrow as I put the towel back on the oven door.

“I was eight,” he admitted.

“Maybe you should leave the cooking to others until you actually know how to do it without burning the building down,” I rolled my eyes and went to retrieve the bag of clothes.

“I didn’t think I’d see you until after the office opened officially,” he said, following me to his room, where I hung his clothes in the closet. “I haven’t heard from you.”

“I was busy,” I said and handed him a tie.

I wasn’t busy. Not really. I was hosting a pity party, table of me.

I needed to get my head on straight, and the best way for me to do that, sadly, was to mourn my crush on Tate as I buried it deep, deep, ~very deep~ down under my other hidden shames.

So, I binged on ice cream and watched action movies.

It lapsed into an awkward silence as we both stood in his closet, avoiding looking at each other like it would literally doom the world if we did.

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry.”

We said it at the same time. Once again, silence ruled as we stared at each other for a second before I snorted, and he tilted his head to the side as I started laughing.

“I’m sorry,” I said between giggles. “This has got to be the most awkward, cringe-worthy moment of all time.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” He scratched the back of his neck.

“Look, I’m sorry. When I agreed to this marriage, I forgot that it’s not meant to actually be a relationship. It’s business,” I said.

“‘Business’?” he repeated with a frown.

“Yes. Just a name and a piece of paper and a little bit of time.” I nodded and moved past him.

“I needed to remember that and remind myself that this isn’t real beyond the surface. Anyone looking in will see what we want them to see, but it’ll never go deeper than that.”

“Not real? Emerald, I told you this was going to be real.” He tossed the tie onto the bed.

“And it will be as far as it needs to be.” I shrugged. “I got my lines crossed. It won’t happen again.”

He stared at me for a while, completely unreadable, before we heard the elevator chime.

“I should go. I need to get my things from the office,” I said.

“I’ll take you,” Tate said.

“It’s fine. I’ll be in and out before you get there.” I shook my head.

“Emerald,” he said.

“You have a long day, Tate. You can’t take the time to hold up the image while I’m there.” I shook my head. “Worry about work. I’ll do the rest.”

I left the bedroom, and my breath shuddered as I walked into the living room.

“Emma?” Vince said.

“Oh. Hey, Vince.” I looked up.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Fine.” I smiled tightly. “Just going to get my things from the office and maybe leave a whisper or two at the rumor mill. See you around.”

It was a lot harder than I thought it would be. I needed to adjust my approach or it would be all too easy to slip back into that “real v. fake” minefield that was best to avoid.

The elevator ride provided me the opportunity to do the one thing I hoped I’d be able to avoid.

“Tate” had to disappear when it was just us. “Tate” was a fantasy I couldn’t afford to entertain anymore. So, I let him go.

There could only be “Mr. King.”

“Tate” was charming and sweet and dangerously easy to fall for. “Mr. King” was hot as sin but such a dick.

There was no chance of being confused about what we were doing.

I left and went to the office, stopping at HR. Security accompanied me to collect my things, which consisted of an aloe plant, emergency makeup, some gum, and a bottle of painkillers.

Ten months and it was all I had. How pathetic is that?

“Oh god. Emma? Did you get the boot?” Nancy from marketing gasped as she stepped into the elevator.

“Oh, no. I quit, actually.” I smiled. “The company has a pretty strict and clear policy on dating your superior.”

“What?” She nearly choked.

“We’ve been dancing around it for a while now since my contract was up soon. Tate said a few things that made me angry, and I asked him to let me out of it early.

“I needed to get a job somewhere else so I didn’t have to put up with his annoying asshole mood swings.” I laughed tenderly. “He released my contract, but… Well, it’s been an interesting weekend.”

The elevator stopped, and I looked at Nancy, who looked gobsmacked.

“Isn’t this your floor?” I asked.

“Oh.” She jumped and rushed out of the elevator, no doubt to start her work at the rumor mill. Water cooler gossips were the best.

I smiled to myself and rode with the security guard to the lobby.

“Is it true?” he asked, walking me to the door. “You’re really seeing the big man himself?”

“It’s true,” I heard Tate say, and I turned to smile at him. “I thought I missed you after you left this morning.”

“Vince seemed like he needed to talk to you about something, so I decided to get my crap out of the way so my replacement isn’t stuck with Harold.” I held up my aloe plant.

“You named your plant?” He quirked an eyebrow at me.

“You ask that like it’s shocking.” I smirked.

“It really isn’t, actually.” He nodded. “Before you go, there’s one more thing that needs to be done. Mind coming up for a moment?”

“Sure. Did I forget something with HR?” I asked, following him back to the elevators.

“You need to be placed on the clearance list to come up whenever you want,” he said. “I’ll take care of that, but it’s more like a discussion that needs to happen before you leave.”

“You know, if this is about how I manage your schedule, it’s not like you don’t know where to find me to ask. The only places I ever go these days are my place or yours.” I rolled my eyes.

“I rather like it when you’re at my place,” he said as we stepped into the elevator, which was full. “I’m not convinced yours is entirely safe.”

“It’s fine, Tate. You just want me there to make you breakfast. I’m tempted to agree after this morning.” I giggled.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” He glared at me.

“Maybe a little bit,” I admitted.

“Breakfast is a perk, but it’s not the ~only~ reason I want you there,” he said, then winked at me.

~It’s not real. It’s not real. It’s not real.~

“You should move in with me,” he said suddenly, and I felt my mouth hang open. “If that’s—”

“Are you shitting me? God, I hate my shoebox apartment. Did you see the size of my shower? I don’t think a toothpick could call that a comfortable fit. It’s teeny.”

I hugged him, careful not to spill Harold’s soil on him.

“That whole apartment is teeny.” He snorted, but I still felt his arm around my back, holding me to him.

“Do I get one of those little key things, too?”

“I already asked Yuri to order one for you,” he said.

Now, he was holding on to that grumpy bosshole persona pretty well. I mean, years of practice meant he had it down pretty well, but this close to him, I could see, in his eyes, that he was struggling to keep it in place.

His carefully cultivated and maintained mask was slipping.

“Aw. Now I have to make you dinner.” I pouted and let him go, stepping back. “Any requests?”

“Whatever you want to make, but I do have a few ideas about dessert.” He kissed my cheek as the last of the audience stepped out of the elevator.

“Food play, huh? Should I be concerned when whipped cream and cherries suddenly appear in the fridge?”

“God, no. Cherries are disgusting, and whipped cream is all oil and fat. Stains the sheets. Chocolate is the way to go.” He grinned, then we stepped out of the elevator and went to his office.

“You know, I always hated this office. It’s so…dark. Dark wood furniture, dark leather chairs, dark upholstery on the couch.”

I sat Harold on his desk and turned him just right. “I think Harold needs to stay here. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure to keep him alive when I come by for the sake of the rumors that are already flooding the building.

“So, what’s this discussion about?”

“I think we need to go over how this is going to happen,” he said flatly and motioned between us.

“Obviously, I’m moving in with you.” I shrugged.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m kind of not, actually. I should have talked to you about it first, though,” he said.

“To avoid looking suspicious, I say we hold off on the big milestones for a while.”

I sat on the front of his desk. “Can’t go running around with a ring less than a week after we come out of the proverbial closet, can we?”

“I agree. We need to be seen together in public a few times before any other big changes happen. I’ll make arrangements for dinner tonight to celebrate our new status and your impending change of address.”

“Nothing overly fancy. I don’t have a paycheck to cushion my account yet.” I grimaced.

And now the awkward silence came with an added dash of tension to make it all the more appetizing.

~Lovely.~

“It’s expected that I’ll buy you gifts, Emerald,” he finally said. “How is it any different from me offering to pay your mother’s bills?”

“First, you didn’t ~offer~, you demanded. Rudely, I might add.” I huffed and crossed my arms. “And that isn’t a gift. I’m capable of taking care of my family, Mr. King.”

“Don’t call me that,” he snapped.

“Is there more or can I go? I sort of have a long day of job hunting, and, apparently, now I’m packing.” I ignored him.

“In a month or so, I’ll propose. Officially. We’ll need to meet each other’s family around the same time.”

He walked around his desk, making me either turn to face him or keep talking to him over my shoulder. I hated that I turned around.

“How do you feel about a fall wedding?”

“It’s fine.”

It’s my freaking dream, actually.

“That’s all for now. I’ll let you know when to expect me this evening for our date,” he said.

I left his office and the building with my head high. I had managed to keep myself from falling into the mindset of this arrangement being real. That was a good thing.

There wouldn’t be any more fights, confusion, hurt feelings, or misunderstandings.

~So why did I feel like crying?~