Chapter One: In Which Emma Meets Her New Partner
Disclaimer: All rights to the Mother-Daughter-Book-Club series belong to Heather Vogel Frederick.
I stare at the darkening skyline of Seattle, the Space Needle in the distance and tall buildings surrounding it and beyond that the sparkling water of Lake Washington. Even after five years of living here, I sometimes still can't help but marvel at the how amazing it is to live in a city that's right on the water.
A pair of arms wrap around my waist and I can't help but jump. "I thought you were just putting on the stereo. You've been gone for ten minutes," David says.
I twist around and stand on my tip-toes to give him a light peck on the lips. "I was just watching the sun go down," I tell him.
David shrugs. As a Seattle native, he's unimpressed by the sights that so often awe me. "Fun. Do you want help picking some music?"
"Sure," I say, handing him my iPod.
A moment later the first notes of Al Green's "Let's Stay Together," float from the speakers next to me.
"Good choice," I say, smiling at him. "Let's go back to the dining room."
David takes my hand and we head into the cozy dining room where our friends Janelle and Gabriel are sitting at the table, the remains of a fruit tart in front of them. Since I left the room has gotten noticeably darker so I flip on the overhead light and then dim it.
Once we're seated, Janelle leans towards me, her brown hair falling over her face. "So, Emma," she begins. "You were almost two hours late to dinner on a Sunday. Do tell us why."
I laugh not because what she said was particularly funny, but because she's so unsubtle. Janelle and her boyfriend Gabriel were my first friends in Seattle (even though they weren't a couple then) and we've remained close ever since, easily expanding to include David, who I've been with for three years. I'm used to her mannerisms and bluntness.
"I got held up at—" I begin to explain.
"—work," Janelle finishes for me, rolling her green eyes. "That's what you say every time!"
"And it's true every time," I counter, grinning. I turn to Gabriel who is tall and lean with close cropped black hair. "Sorry I was so late. It is your birthday after all."
He waves it off. "It's fine. We all get busy once in a while. And if Janelle's giving you a hard time,"—he lowers his voice to a stage whisper—"ignore her."
"Hmph," Janelle says, playfully swatting her boyfriend before asking me: "Is there any chance of you two being able to go out for a drink with Gabe and me later next week?"
"That sounds good," I say. "What do you think, David?"
His brow furrows. "Are you sure you'll be able to make it? Last time we made plans you had to stay late and skipped the whole thing."
I shrug. "It should be getting better soon. My boss told me that they just hired a guy that'll be my partner for my articles so I still have time for my editorials."
"You've worked for them for almost five years. Why are they suddenly giving you a partner?" Gabriel asks me curiously.
"Are you implying something about my writing?" I tease him. "But to be honest I'm not really sure. Still, I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth."
"Neither am I," David adds. "Maybe I'll actually get to see my girlfriend once in a while."
I give him an apologetic look. A year ago I was promoted and now write my own column as well as doing regular reports. It's a lot more interesting now, but it definitely has increased my work load. I have three news articles and a 4000 word editorial due each week meaning I usually stay late to try and keep ahead of my deadlines.
"And maybe I'll be able to see my best friend," Janelle says, mock glaring at me. "Because lately she seems never to be around."
"I don't even know how we're friends," I say mournfully, but there's a half smile on my lips. "We literally have nothing in common."
"Except everything!" Janelle cries dramatically.
"Does that even make sense?" David asks, looking confused.
"Nothing Janelle says makes sense," Gabriel points out. "But we love her anyway."
"That's very true," I agree.
Two hours later Janelle and Gabriel have left, leaving David and me to clean up the dishes.
"You can go," I tell David. "I know you have to work tomorrow. It is a Monday after all."
"I'm not going to leave you with all the dishes," he argues. "That wouldn't be fair, especially since I made most of the mess."
"Most men would jump at the chance to be excused from doing the dishes," I comment, leaning against the counter in my tiny kitchen, watching him move around cleaning up.
"I'm not most men," he quips while rinsing a soapy dish under hot water.
"Very true."
David is in fact every woman's dream man. He has the looks of a god with a tall, muscular frame, a chiseled profile, bronze hair, and a great personality. His job as a pretty well-known actor means he practically oozes charisma and charm and could have anyone he wanted.
Sometimes I wonder how I lucked into this relationship. When I met him I was a twenty-three year old trying to make ends meet. He was a twenty-five year old up and coming actor who had ducked into the bookshop where I had been working to get away from the press. The only thing we had in common was that we were both fresh out of long-term relationships. We soon found that we enjoyed each other's company and soon became a couple.
Even though we've been together for three years we're taking it slow. We haven't moved into together or gotten engaged or anything. Several times I've wondered if we should move our relationship forward, but something has always stopped me. A nagging voice in my head always suggests maybe Stewart is the reason for my hesitance, but I always brush it away: thinking about that is too painful.
"Earth to Emma," David says in a sing-songy voice.
"Huh? Oh, sorry. I zoned out," I laugh, trying to clear my head.
"Apparently," he says. "Anyway, the kitchen is all clean so I should probably get going. It's almost midnight."
"Oh, right," I say, still disorientated from my thoughts. "I'll see you tomorrow night for dinner?"
"Definitely." He leans in for a kiss and doesn't pull away for a few minutes.
"All right," I say, pushing him towards the door. "Time for you to get going."
He leaves with another wave, and I shut the door behind him. I check my clock. It's twelve fifteen and morning will come too soon. After turning off the kitchen lights, I tidy up my living room a bit and wipe down the dining room table. Finally I pull on my pajamas and fall into bed, vaguely noting that it's begun to rain.
The next morning my alarm goes off at five-thirty.
"Ugh," I groan and roll over, nearly falling on the floor in the process.
Reaching towards my nightstand, I grope around for the snooze button, craving a few more minutes of sleep. Instead, I knock over a glass of water which runs down my wrist. I leap out of bed, cursing and shaking my wet arm. Mental note: in order to wake up quickly, pour water on self.
Grumbling about what a terrible start to the morning I've had, I stumble off to the bathroom where I shower. I then pad into the kitchen in a bathrobe, my wet hair around my shoulders, to make myself some coffee and breakfast. Two cups of coffee later, I'm decently alert enough to dry my hair and straighten it without being a hazard to myself.
Reaching into my closet the only work suitable clothes I can I find are a pencil skirt and blouse which is fine since I'm only going to be in the office today. Pulling them on with a pair of heels, I grab my purse and head out the door, proudly noting that I'm fifteen minutes early, only to return after getting all the way downstairs because it's raining cats and dogs and I forgot my umbrella.
Needless to say, by the time I get to work I'm grumpy. I find my cubicle and dump all my stuff down on the empty desk while I sort my own out. Just as it's eight on the dot, I'm settling down to work on my latest article when I hear my name.
"Hawthorne!" Gregory Hobson, my boss barks.
"Yes?" I answer.
"Why aren't you up front waiting?"
"Waiting for what?" I ask blankly, desperately trying to remember what I might be forgetting.
"Your partner is going to be here any minute!" Hobson snaps. "You know, the one you've been asking about for the past six months."
"Oh!" I leap out of my chair, smoothing down my skirt. "I'll go to the front desk right now."
"Too late," he says gruffly. "The guy's already here. I asked Miranda to bring him through."
I nod respectfully. No point in upsetting Hobson anymore than I already have.
After a moment of peering over cubicle walls, Hobson nods approvingly. "Here he comes. Dressed for the job, too," he says.
I can hear Miranda, the receptionist, is blatantly flirting with the new guy. He must be pretty good looking if she's being that obvious. She's usually pretty picky about the guys she's seen with.
Miranda, who is tall and slender with long black hair, appears in the entrance to the cubicle where Hobson and I are standing. She's talking over her shoulder. "And this is your new cubicle. If you need anything just let me know."
She steps aside and heads back to her desk, fluttering her lashes all the while. I mentally throw up.
Hobson steps in front of me, blocking my view of the new guy. I try to look around him, but it's useless. He's way taller than me, not to mention pretty wide.
Hobson offers his hand. "Welcome to the Seattle Times news office. I'm Gregory Hobson. We talked on the phone. I'll be your new boss here."
I can the two men shaking hands. At this point I really want to see what the guy who I'll be working with looks like. But what he says next freezes me completely.
"Nice to meet you Mr. Hobson. I'm Stewart Chadwick."
A/N: So this has been floating around my head for a while, but I had to rewrite it four times for it to really take shape. I'm not sure if I want to continue this story or try other writing with other characters from the MDBC. To decide, I'm going to put up a poll on my profile with summaries of other stories I'm considering writing. If you all are lucky, I might even try my hand at writing two stories at once!
I apologize for any mistakes. I just wanted to get it out, and if I continue, I'll edit it.
Please Read and Review! Every review makes me incredibly happy!