“Hey, how did the appointment go?” Brooke asked, gazing up from her desk.
“Wonderful. Everything is good.”
Brooke grinned. “Great. I can’t wait to find out if it’s a boy or girl. I’m making up a shopping list and already have three my-auntie-is-the-best outfits picked out. Now, just gotta know if I’m buying blue or pink.”
Brooke was definitely going to spoil the baby. “It’ll be fun finding out.”
“Yeah, but for now, I’m just happy knowing the baby’s healthy.”
Brooke rose from her desk and approached her. “Things are working out with Dylan, aren’t they?” she asked. “I mean, you sound happy. You look happy and well. I know you’ve been dating, hot and heavy.”
“Hot and heavy?” Emma’s laughter sounded a little too high-pitched even to her ears and Brooke caught on immediately.
“Wow, so it’s true. You and my brother are hooking up.”
Well, yeah, she supposed they were. He’d asked her to move in with him several times, but never with any true sense of commitment. Was that what she was waiting for? Some hope, some sign that he wanted her, and not just because she was going to give birth to his child? Maybe what she wanted from Dylan was impossible for him to give. “Brooke, I have no name for what’s happening between Dylan and me.”
“At least something is happening.” Excitement sparkled in Brooke’s eyes.
“Maybe you should concentrate on your relationship with Royce,” Emma countered, giving her BFF a wry smile.
“Oh, believe me, I do.” Brooke giggled. “We’re heading to hot and heavy, too.”
“Wow, you two are moving fast.”
Brooke sighed. “I know. It’s crazy, but we’re in tune with each other on every level.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Now, on to work issues. We’ve got the Henderson anniversary party on Friday night and then we’ve got Clinton’s seventh birthday party in Beverly Hills all day Saturday. Which one do you want to confirm?”
“I’ll take Clinton’s party. I’ve made special arrangements for the petting zoo and the cartoon characters to show up and I’ve got the cake and food already set. I’ll double-check it’s a go, and you can make your confirmations for the anniversary gig.”
“Okay, sounds good. It’s going to be a busy weekend. Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m sure.” Emma had been operating at 90 percent and feeling better every day. Dylan had been keeping her plenty busy at night, too, exhausting her in a good way. She’d been sleeping soundly and waking feeling sated and refreshed, but the thought of not seeing him for the next few nights suddenly cast a shadow of loneliness on her perspective.
How odd. Usually she valued her downtime and enjoyed being on her own.
“Oh, yeah,” Brooke said, making a face. “I almost forgot to tell you, Maury Allen called today. Seems his event planner for Callista’s big birthday bash had a family emergency and he can’t continue the work. He wants us to take over. It’s in two weeks.”
“You told him no, didn’t you?” Emma held her breath.
Brooke scrunched her face even more. “Well,” she squeaked. “I couldn’t do that. He used Dylan’s name as a reference and made it seem like my brother recommended us to him. He’s Dylan’s boss and he said everything’s pretty much done. All we have to do is show up and make things run smoothly.”
“Brooke!”
“I know. But he took me by surprise and I didn’t think I could worm out of it.”
“Couldn’t his planner get someone else from their company to step in?”
She shook her head. “They’re all booked solid. And we’re not. His secretary is overnighting the signed vendor contracts and the itinerary so we know what’s planned.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “That’s just wonderful.”
“Sorry.” To Brooke’s credit, she did seem genuinely apologetic. “You don’t have to go. I’ll get Wendy or Rocky to help out.”
“Knowing Callista, it’s going to be a giant production. You’re going to need me.”
Brooke ducked her head and looked sheepish. “I think you may be right.”
Shoulders tight and arms crossed, Emma leaned against the wall and sent a disgruntled sigh out to the universe. “I guess I was destined to go to this thing.”
“Destined? What do you mean?”
“Dylan asked me to go to Callista’s party as his date. He said he wanted company in his misery, but I flat out refused. The woman barely gets my name right.”
Brooke chuckled. “Just call her Callie, like I do. You know what they say about payback.”
“I can’t do that. She’s our client now.”
“Her father’s our client.”
“It’s practically the same thing,” Emma said. “She’s got him wrapped around her diamond-ringed finger.”
“True, but I wish I could be there when she...”
Brooke’s expression was way too mischievous for Emma’s curiosity. “What?”
“When she finds out you’re carrying Dylan’s child.”
“Brooke! You’re not going to say a thing. Promise me.”
She glanced at Emma’s belly bump and smiled. “I promise. But maybe I won’t have to say anything. Maybe she’ll find out on her own. Now, that would be worth the price of admission.”
Emma couldn’t suppress a smile. She grinned along with her friend. “You’re wicked.”
“Yes, and that’s why you love me.”
Seven
Emma dragged herself through the door on Saturday evening, her twenty-five-year-old bones aching. She was too tired to make it to her bedroom. She tossed her handbag onto the sofa, then plopped down next to it. The well-worn cushions welcomed her and she put her feet up on the coffee table. Stretching out, she closed her eyes.
Little Clinton’s birthday party had done her in. It had gone fairly well for a seven-year-old’s party, though there’d been a few potential disasters in the making. One of the goats in the petting zoo had escaped the pen and begun nibbling on the party decorations. The kids thought it hilarious, until the darn goat made a dash for the cupcake table and nearly downed the whole thing. Emma screamed for the zookeeper to do something, and he’d looked up oblivious to the goings-on from across the yard, giving her no choice but to navigate the stubborn animal back to the pen herself.
But that was an innocent mistake, unlike the guy dressed in a furry purple character costume. Judging by the way he was walking, the guy must have been intoxicated. It was either that or balancing himself in the costume was too much for him. She’d kept her eyes peeled on him for the entire day and thankfully he didn’t cause any trouble.
Then there was the incident at the taco bar. The kids took one bite of their tacos and their little mouths were set on fire from too much chipotle sauce added to the meat. Emma escorted those kids right over to the snow cone machine. Rainbow ice doused the flames and put smiles on their faces again. Disaster averted, but not before Emma scolded the cook. What had he been thinking?
Emma leaned forward and did slow head circles, first one way, then the other. The stretch and pull felt good, easing away a full day’s worth of tension. Her cell phone rang and she had a mind not to answer it, but as she glanced at the screen name, she smiled and picked up. “Hi, Dylan.”
“Hi,” he said in that low, masculine tone that made her dizzy. “What are you doing?”
“Just putting my feet up. It’s been a long day.”
“Tired?”
“Yeah, pretty much. What are you doing?”
“Driving by your apartment.”
“You are?” She bolted straight up, her heartbeat speeding.
“Yeah, I thought I’d take a chance and see if you were up to company. If you’re too tired, I’ll just keep on driving.”
God, just the sound of his voice roused her out of exhaustion. It had been three days since she’d seen him. He’d been constantly on her mind. “I’m not too tired.”
“You sure? You sound wiped out.”
“I’m...not.”
“I’ll be right there.”
A soft flow of warmth spread through her body. Her hormones were happy now. Beautifully, wonderfully happy.
Just minutes later, she opened the door and he walked straight into her arms. He lifted her off the ground as he kissed her and moved her backward to the sofa, setting her down and taking a seat next to her. “I’m not staying. I just wanted to see you,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders.
“I’m glad. I, uh, I wanted to see you, too.” It was always hard admitting how she was feeling toward Dylan. She wasn’t playing hard to get. She was running scared, frightened that this big bubble of joy would pop at any moment.
“How was your day?”
“Chasing goats and kids and keeping parents happy, just a usual Saturday afternoon fun day.”
Dylan smiled. “You love it.”
“I do. I’m not complaining.” It was what she was meant to do. She enjoyed every facet of event planning. Though it was a hassle at times and deadlines could be gruesome, the end result, a successful party, was her reward. She couldn’t imagine having a nine-to-five job, although she thoroughly enjoyed keeping the books and managing the accounts, too.