Gavin carefully watched as the guard in Dillon’s eyes seemed to evaporate into thin air.
“Okay, so we’re good then?” Dillon asked.
Crossing his arms and without a word spoken, Gavin simply nodded.
“Alright, cool,” he said, looking down to his watch. “I’m going out for a couple of drinks with some buddies from work. I think we both could hammer back a few after this. Why don’t you come along?”
“I have some business to attend to,” he replied, his voice even. “Very important business.”
“Well, if you get done early enough, I’ll be at Ainsworth Prime over in Penn Plaza.”
Gavin nodded, and with that, Dillon walked over to the door to make his way out.
“One more thing,” Gavin said, walking across the room, his voice low.
Dillon turned to face him.
Gavin pinned him with a look, and in that moment, he knew his expression told all. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll fucking kill you with my bare hands.”
Cocking his head to the side, Dillon returned his glare and went to speak but didn’t. He shook his head and walked out the door.
As confusion rolled off his body in waves, Gavin took a few minutes and tried to compose himself. His body shook as he tried to breath. Still in shock at what was happening around him, he moved across his office and sank himself into his chair. With Emily’s words tumbling around in his head, it was no use. Composing himself was unobtainable. His head pounded, and his vision blurred. Emily swallowed him whole, lied about wanting a future with him, and spit him out once Dillon came back. Not capable of waiting any longer, Gavin closed his eyes for a beat, inhaled a breath, and dug his keys from his pocket. He rose from his chair and stalked from his office. Hurt, anger, and pain tightened his chest with every step he took. He knew it would be a few hours before Emily’s shift ended, but when it did, he would be there waiting for her.
“Country,” Antonio said, approaching the table where Emily and Fallon were sitting. “If your side work’s complete, you can get out of here.”
Emily lifted her eyes to him as she screwed the top onto a salt shaker. She nodded. “Thanks, Antonio.”
“What about me?” Fallon asked, tossing a wrapped piece of silverware into a plastic bin.
“You’re out of luck, kid,” he chuckled. “You’re the scheduled closer tonight.”
Fallon pouted her lips. “Come on, Antonio. It’s pouring outside, and I’ve only had two tables in the last three hours. It’s already eight. It’s so dead in here right now; you could handle the place on your own.”
Shaking his head, he mumbled something in Italian and walked away.
Fallon smirked. “I guess I should take that as a no?”
“I’m thinking that’s a safe bet,” Emily quipped, rising from her seat. She gave her neck a stretch and untied the apron from her waist. “Is Trevor picking you up tonight?”
“He sure is. We’re going bowling later,” she replied, beaming a smile.
“That sounds cool. Have a good time.” Emily made her way over to the coffee bar to retrieve her purse. After ducking out from under the counter, she found Fallon standing right beside her, her expression filled with concern.
Emily looked at her suspiciously.
Twirling her black hair in between her fingers, Fallon hesitated before speaking. “Trevor told me you took Dillon back.”
“I did. We worked things out,” she replied, walking over to grab her jacket off the coat rack. “Why are you bringing it up now?”
“Well, I didn’t want to upset you during your shift.”
“Why would that upset me?”
Fallon cocked an incredulous brow. “Come on, Em. I know what happened with you and Gavin.”
Emily tried to ignore the pang of hurt in her chest when she heard his name, but it was no use. It ricocheted through her system. She slipped on her jacket and gave Fallon a questioning look. “How do you know what happened between us?”
Fallon blinked her gray eyes and shrugged. “Olivia told me.”
“Of course,” she sighed and started heading toward the door. Turning around, she zipped up her jacket, slung her purse over her shoulder, and let out another sigh. “Well, I’m fine,” she said softly, lying as smoothly as she could. She wasn’t fine. She was a mess, and by the look on Fallon’s face, she was pretty sure Fallon could tell she was.
Fallon approached her. “Why are you marrying him, Emily?” she asked, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Emily’s features morphed in shock at her question. “Fallon,” she let out exasperated, “what do you mean why am I marrying him?”
“I think the question is pretty straightforward, Country.” She dropped her hand from Emily’s shoulder, her voice low. “Why are you marrying him when you’re in love with Gavin?”
Bewildered by the breakneck pace of the conversation, Emily figured she would answer as truthfully as she could. “I think the answer’s pretty straightforward, Fallon. I’m marrying the man who loves me. I’ll talk to you later,” she said, setting off at a brisk pace toward the door.
“Emily, wait!” Fallon called out.
Emily held up a silencing hand, and reached for the door.
As she opened it to leave, her breath caught when Gavin’s brilliant blue eyes locked on hers. Shock rushed through every limb in her body, settling like heavy steel in her chest. She stared at him as he leaned against his car, uncaring of the cold rain pelting down around him. With his arms crossed, Gavin’s eyes raked over her from head to toe, and if Emily wasn’t mistaken, they showed something akin to anger. Momentarily, confusion crossed her features, but it quickly faded as anger of her own set in. Though she didn’t want to deal with any bullshit excuse he was about to spew out of his mouth, there was no hiding this time. She needed to face this—face him. Pulling in a quick breath, she gathered her nerve, composed herself, and stepped out onto the sidewalk.