Free Ash to Steele by Karen-Anne Stewart

the waitress, reaching for her purse.
       “I’ve got the tab,” I announce, pulling out my wallet.
       “Thank you,” Emma manages to spit out, “but I can pay for my lunch.”
       “I’m sure you can, but you’re not going to,” I state, leaving no room for argument while I give the waitress a generous tip instead of what she really wants, as indicated with her number written on the receipt she hands me.  Leaving the receipt on the table, I turn towards Emma and Jess, feeling every bit of the tension Emma is struggling to control. 
       “Thank you for lunch,” Emma’s words are rushed and tinged with a little anger.
       “No problem,” I smile, refraining from brushing back a piece of hair that has loosened from the bun and is blowing across her face.  The stark blue of her eyes shimmers, brightened further by her tan, silky skin.  The chestnut wisp continues to torture me as it falls against the corner of her full mouth.  Thoughts of my lips on hers, her lips on me, leave me in physical torment.  I want to feel that mouth getting me off.  Stepping away from her, I grapple with my waning self-control and make myself focus. “Where do you work?”
       “Shallonelles,” she replies, her eyes not quite meeting mine.  She hesitates before adding, “And the gallery on Main.”
       “What do you do there?”
       “I create the art for the paper’s ads.”
       “What do you do at the gallery?” I ask, getting the feeling she left that part out on purpose.
       “I give tours.”  Emma flashes a forced smile.
       “Is any of your work there?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
       “No.” There’s that fake smile again, and something I wasn’t prepared for…a heartbreaking longing.
       “Not yet, anyway,” Jess chimes in, giving me a warning look to back off.  “But it won’t be long before her work is hanging in galleries.”
       Emma smiles appreciatively at Jess, giving her a quick hug before giving a polite, but impersonal, wave my way and walking to her car. 
       Once Emma’s out of earshot, Jess lights into me, “What the hell was all that about with the design?”
       “What?  I wasn’t lying; it’s good.”
       “I know it’s good, but that’s not what I’m talking about.  You know that you don’t need to present it.  You make the decisions about things like that without needing the board member’s approval.  What are you up to?”
       “Granddad has been trying to get me to play nice with the members.  I thought I would appease him on this one.”
       “Oh, please!  You thought you would seize the opportunity to try to get Emma in your bed.”
       “You know that I don’t let anyone in my bed, ever.”
       “You also don’t chase after anyone either, ever .  At least, not before Em.”
       “I’m not chasing after, Em .  She just looks like she could use some practice presenting and selling her art.  This is the perfect learning experience for her.”
       “You don’t help anyone, either,” Jess chastises.
       Raising my brow, I scowl at her.
       Sighing, she backs off.  “You know what I mean.  You don’t help anyone with things like this, and definitely not with women.  The opposite sex means only one thing to you, sex !”
       “You’re of the opposite sex and only my friend,” I remind her.
       “We’re different.”  She lets out a long breath, her own scowl daring me to bring up that night when we were sixteen, confused as hell, and made a huge mistake.
       That night hasn’t been breached since it happened.  We both know it’s better that way.  A lot of things are better staying buried in the past. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf.”
       “Or maybe you’re trying to burn an old one.”
       “Jess!” I snap, my tone clearly letting her know it’s not wise for her to continue on the path she’s started down.
       “Sorry,” Jess states, the pleading