Emily made a slow descent downstairs, delayed by her own curiosity. She trusted the man more than any other, but all the same she could not stop herself from exploring his bedroom. For a few precious moments, she pretended that she had no idea who Nolan Ross was, that she was in a stranger's home, far away from all she knew, and searching for clues about the man.
There was always more to learn about a man by examining his personal effects. Emily looked about the space of his room, using all her senses and the strength of her perception.
She began with the obvious.
There were no piles of dirty laundry, no dirty dishes or water glasses on his nightstands. This told Emily that he was a man who preferred order in his life, which Nolan certainly was. He might prefer order in his daily life, much like she did, but no one could have denied that he had enjoyed the risk, the thrill of being such an integral part of her scheme.
Something of a trouble-maker, was Nolan Ross. He liked to cause mischief but the man knew his limits.
His sheets were a tangled mass on his bed, evidence of a fitful sleep. He'd been restless, and who could blame him? He'd risked his life to save hers, that was no small thing. Emily was sure he'd been exhausted, but sleep might not have come so easily for him.
The cloth over his bed was streaked with soot – evidence of the fire that had clung to his skin. The sheets in the guestroom were in a similar condition, she would do him the favor of washing them herself. The fire had been meant for her, after all.
A muted silver Omega watch was on the nightstand and beside that was one of his many tablets, charging its battery; here was a man who liked gadgets and appreciated quality craftsmanship.
She moved on from the bed to inspect his clothes.
The man's closet was a deep walk-in, its shelves neatly lined with shoes, its racks displaying shirts of every color and blazers of every texture, there were many hats, many pairs of shorts and trousers, many pairs of gloves, ties, scarves and handkerchiefs. Emily smiled to herself. This was a man who liked clothes and had a flamboyant, reckless sense of style.
That's Nolan, all over.
Emily stepped out of his closet and glanced over the framed photographs he had lining the far wall of his bedroom, surprised to see a picture of Nolan with her at the Grayson mansion during last year's Fourth of July celebration. She remembered it. The picture had been taken at the start of the party, before Frank had attacked her friend and driven things out of control.
There were other pictures, photos of Nolan with an older couple Emily assumed were his parents, pictures of Nolan with his aunt Carol, pictures of Nolan with Jack and Declan, pictures of Nolan with his trusted lieutenants at Nolcorp.
He's a man who values the people in his life.
Emily tore her eyes away from the images. She had spent too much time looking through Nolan's things and he was bound to notice her absence. She stripped his bed and once she'd made quick work of tossing both his and her sheets into the wash, she called out for him.
"Nolan?"
"Out here." Nolan called back to her.
He set his personal tablet on the patio table and watched his companion emerge from the house, fully attired in his clothes. "Look at you, very fashion-forward."
"Yeah, I'll bet I look ready for the runway." Emily groused as she shielded her eyes from the bright setting sun.
Nolan stood to pull out a chair for the woman and then rejoined her at the table. "Do you feel all right?"
"I'm still kind of foggy." She shrugged.
"Yeah, they said it would take a few hours for you to be back to normal." Nolan caught the scent of his own shampoo on her and fought the urge to tease. "Are you still hungry? I can get you more food or something to drink if you want."
Emily frowned and then moved to cradle her head in her hands, massaging her temples and suddenly feeling the weight of all that she'd lost. Not just her material things, but the place that carried the last traces of her father, her memories of innocense. All the money in the world couldn't restore what she had lost in the fire.
And Nolan, he only wanted to help her. That was all he'd ever wanted. Just to help her, and all she ever did was push him away. He didn't deserve such treatment and she didn't deserve such loyalty.
I can't keep doing this. But how can I...?
She felt the ground tilt beneath her feet, suddenly dizzy, suddenly very afraid.
Her father had been taken from her, her home had been destroyed and her vengeance was done.
All she had was this man, the friend she'd spent years running from and pushing away. Things between them had to change, she had to change.
"Nolan, you don't have to…God, I don't even have any clothes."
The man wouldn't see her so defeated, not now, not when she'd bested her enemies and avenged her father. More than anything, Nolan wanted Emily to be happy. Again, he rallied his spirit and thought of something to cheer her up. "Well, you don't have clothes but you have me. Come on, Ems, let me take you shopping."
She shook her head. "You don't have to do that."
"No, but I will if it'll get you out of your post-vengeance funk. I don't like seeing you like this." He said seriously, daring to put his hand over hers on the table.
"No, Nolan, after everything you've already done…you've done enough. I can't keep taking from you."
He was left to wonder why it was that Emily had such a difficult time accepting help from him, but he pressed the issue with her a bit further. "Then let me treat you as a self-serving favor. That's my favorite t-shirt and I want it back."
Emily glanced down at the well-loved band shirt she wore, and finally relented. "…all right, but just this once and I'll pay you back as soon as I can." She rubbed her face, her mind spinning. "I have to change."
Nolan waved off her concern, "Sure, sure, mi dinero es su dinero."
He reached for his tablet and with a few taps and sweeps of his fingertips, Nolan called up a list of wardrobe pieces he'd put together for her while she'd been in the shower. Nolan had had more fun than he cared to admit in picking out clothes for the woman – he owned his sexuality and his personal quirks but he didn't glory in living up to the stereotypes he knew people associated with men like him.
Emily took the tablet from him and found that she could live with most of his choices, basic as they were – jeans, simple tops, t-shirts and shoes. Smiling, she called up a new site and made a few additions to his list.
He smiled back at her, "What?"
Emily raised her brows. "Nothing, it's a great list, it's just that you seem to have forgotten that there are things a woman wears but a man never does. Usually not in public, anyway."
"I figured you could pick out your own bras and thongs, babe."
For whatever reason, she blushed a bit at that. "I also couldn't help but notice the number of geek t-shirts on that list."
He knew that she would question his choices for her so he might as well be honest. "I just think wearing something a little less…Hamptons might help you relax."
"Is that the idea behind your wardrobe?" She asked, baiting him.
"You're not a fan of my attire?"
Emily let her eyes linger on his shirt, today it was plain linen in a muted blue – unusual for the man who usually wore popped polos of all colors. "It can get a little…colorful."
Unrepentant, the man winked at her. "Better bright than bland, Ems."
"Can't argue with you there."
The two settled into a comfortable silence for awhile, enjoying the heated air of summer, listening to the crash of the ocean's waves below. Emily had to wonder when the last time was that she'd simply sat with Nolan, to talk or enjoy a meal, without some scheme between them. Truly, she wasn't sure that they had ever simply been together in this way – whenever they mingled at parties or had drinks at the Stowaway, they had never truly been themselves. They had only ever been pretending while her plans fell into place.
There would be no more of that, now.
The Graysons had been taken down, their legacy ripped apart by their greed, their lies, their insatiable ambition. Conrad and Victoria were in prison, while Daniel was set adrift and Charlotte had cut ties with the family.
And Emily…she had thought of what she would do when her vengeance was met, when her father's name was cleared and everyone who had played a part in ruining their lives had been punished. Naively, she had thought to tell Jack everything at one point – before yet another setback and more of the Graysons' deception had been uncovered. That had been when Emily came to understand that there was nothing waiting for her on the other side of her revenge.
It had been some months ago when she'd let go of Jack, just as winter had fallen away and spring had made its rise in the world. Really, he was just the boy she'd spent her last innocent summer with – a childhood friend who had grown up and then been hurt by her in ways he should never know.
Jack had grown into a kind, caring man…but he was not for her, not for the woman that she'd become.
Yes, Emily had let go of the dream and she'd found it surprisingly easy to do.
Now she hardly thought of Jack at all, let alone as playing a part in her happy ending.
She felt that she was facing a vast emptiness, for she had no more purpose. She felt lost. She had nothing.
As if he heard her thought, Nolan moved his eyes away from the horizon and turned to her across the table. "I have an idea. What do you say to a movie?"
It seemed he was still determined to cheer her up, to distract her from this smothering feeling of being out of control, directionless.
The sun had finally dipped out of sight and the full warm darkness was creeping ever closer. The wind whipped Emily's hair into her face and she did not move to brush it away. "What movie?"
"Anything you want. I can even get us a few flicks that won't hit theaters until a few months from now."
She raised her brows at his boast. "Nice to see you've been putting your hacking skills to such great use."
"You should know by now, I'm all about information and I'm impatient. Waiting around is for the birds. Come on, it'll take your mind off things." He urged her.
Emily said nothing, she only smiled and moved to follow him back inside.
If she was lost, she was at least grateful to be lost with her friend.
