Free The Night Before Christian by Joy Avery Page B

white wine.
    “Dessert now, ma’am?”
    She waved off her butler. “No, that
won’t be necessary. My grandson is leaving. He has a plane to catch.”

Chapter 8
     
     
    Emory tried her
damndest not to think about Christian, but she was failing miserably. She
hadn’t heard anything from him since their exchange in her mother’s yard. Three
days ago. As silly as it sounded, every time her phone rang, she hoped it was
him. How pathetic could she get?
    Remembering their last
night together, she stabbed a hydrangea into the centerpiece she was working
on. The only person she could be pissed at was herself. How could she allow her
feelings to take control of her like that? Why did she have the right to
question Christian’s love for Yasmin? Of course he loved her. He was marrying
her for Christ’s sake.
    “ Yes, I love her .”
    The words rang in her
ears like deafening church bells, and it suddenly became difficult to breathe.
She closed her eyes and wished that it was all a dream. That Christian had
never strolled into her shop. That she’d never spent time with him. That’s
she’d tossed the keys back to the rental car agent when he’d showed up at her
front door three days ago, stating Mr. St. Claire had arranged the rental of
the vehicle for her. She simply wanted to go back to the night before
Christian. When things were much simpler.
    In a few weeks,
it’ll all be over , she reminded herself. She would never have to see
Christian St. Claire again. The idea brought only minimal relief. As much as
she didn’t want to see him, the more she craved to see him.
    Pathetic .
    The shop door chimed,
and Emory welcomed the distraction. “I’ll be with you in one moment.”
    Moving from the back of
the shop, Emory stopped dead in her track. Of all the people she could have
ever guess would visit her shop, Christian’s grandmother was not one of them.
Her visit could only constitute trouble.
    “Ms. St. Clair?”
    “ Mrs .,” she
corrected her. The woman examined Emory as if she were a reject from a mental
institution and wasn’t worthy of breathing the same air as her. “Dear, I
thought I’d made myself clear two years ago when I asked you to stay away from
my grandson.”
    The woman hadn’t asked,
she’d ordered. Clearly, Amelia St. Clair had discovered she and Christian had reconnected.
But how? Surely, he hadn’t told her. Then it hit her. Yasmin had to have
mentioned her name and Mrs. St. Claire had put two and two together. Oh, God.
Did this mean Yasmin knew also? Was that the reason Yasmin hadn’t responded to
the email she’d sent earlier?
    “I’m not sure what you
believe is going on, but I can assure you anything between Christian and I is
strictly business.”
    “ Really ?”
    Emory understood
immediately that it was a rhetorical question so she didn’t bother answering
it. Mrs. St. Claire scrutinized her surroundings with a distasteful scowl on
her face. The woman made Emory feel like a visitor in her own shop—an unwanted
visitor at that.
    Mrs. St. Claire thumbed
a poinsettia leaf. Without the courtesy of eye contact, she said, “Stay away
from my grandson, Ms . Chambers. Since we’ve had this conversation once
before and now again, I trust we won’t need to have it a third time?”
    She eyed Emory with a
look of contempt. Emory folded her arms across her chest but remained silent.
If she parted her lips now, something cruel would escape. Even though she
loathed the hateful woman, Emory had been raised to respect her elders.
    “I’ll take that as a
yes.” She adjusted her chocolate-colored full-length mink coat. “Merry
Christmas.” Then turned to leave.
    Just like the cruel
woman to add condescending mock. “I’m not afraid of you. I allowed you to
intimidate me then. Not now.” Emory wasn’t sure where the burst of confidence surfaced
from, but refused to back down.
    Mrs. St. Claire
performed a slow rotation toward Emory, then smiled in a cold, menacing manner.
“Silly girl.