A Good Man Read online

  “Did you hurt yourself?”

  His lowered voice made every hair on her arms stand on end. She gulped, suddenly thirsty. “No. I think I just used a muscle I never knew I had.”

  His generous lips spread in a smile. “Yeah, you might feel that tomorrow.” He stood behind her and raised his hands over her shoulders. “May I?”

  Emily nodded, swallowing. Why couldn’t she ease her thirst? The production assistant made sure everyone stayed hydrated.

  Lacey called “cut” for a moment to answer a crew member’s question.

  Michael began to massage her shoulders. “Demolition work is tough, but it’s a good burn.” His deep tones caressed her exposed skin, making it break out in goose pimples. “It reminds us our bodies were meant to be used and stretched, that we need to be pushed to our limits sometimes. What do you think, Em? Can you take more?”

  She couldn’t even formulate a thought, never mind making her lips and tongue work. While Michael was breathing on her neck, whispering words that sounded naughty even though they hadn’t been meant so, she couldn’t voice a response.

  He continued to rub her shoulders, moving his large fingers in slow circles. He stood so close behind her, too close. His presence rattled her brain. His soapy clean scent made her dream, and his voice sent the most wonderful chills down her spine.

  This man…he made her feel things she hadn’t felt in a long time.

  She turned abruptly. “I’m fine now. Thank you.” She stepped away.

  Michael didn’t react, but his lack of a reaction said more than any words might have.

  Lacey finished with the crew member and action resumed. Eli and Nick continued to take turns bashing what was left of the wall.

  Trent chose that moment to arrive, a full hour late. He plowed inside the house, not watching where he was going, and almost headed straight into Eli’s flying sledgehammer. Eli had to pull back quickly. As he did, his arm snapped back and he dropped the heavy tool. He let out a stream of curses.

  Lacey stood. “Cut! Jesus Christ. Are you okay, Eli?”

  The set medic, a retired nurse, ran forward and began to examine Eli’s shoulder.

  Michael ran to his brother’s side. “You okay?”

  Nick joined them. He pushed up his safety goggles, his face marred by concern, and moved Eli’s sledgehammer out of the way.

  “Yeah.” Eli grunted as the medic manipulated his shoulder muscle. He turned to Trent. “You can’t just run in here when we’re doing a demo.”

  “I didn’t know the demo had begun.” The petulant tone in Trent’s voice put Emily on guard.

  “If you’d been here on time, you would have,” said Michael. “You should have been here with Em, instead of leaving her to tackle this on her own.”

  Trent arched an eyebrow. “Seems to me Em had a lot of company already.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” Emily moved to Eli’s side, dismayed at Trent’s comment. “Should I call an ambulance?”

  “He’ll be fine,” said the medic. “But Eli will need to go home to rest and apply an ice pack.”

  Eli winced as he rotated his shoulder. “It hurts like a sonofabitch.”

  “Go home,” Lacey ordered. “Rest up and see how you feel tomorrow.”

  “I’m so sorry, Eli.” Emily had no choice but to apologize on her fiancé’s behalf.

  “You have no reason to apologize,” said Michael.

  Trent let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, and I do?”

  “Why come back anyway if you were going to walk in late?” continued Michael. “Do you even want to be on this show?”

  “Do you want the truth?”

  A collective gasp went up among the crew.

  Emily’s entire body flagged. It was all she could do not to hang her head. Trent’s words made her want to disappear. She wanted to crawl up the stairs to Nonna Olivia’s old bedroom and huddle in the closet. How could he be so ungrateful?

  “Dude,” said Nick in a quiet voice. “Do you even hear yourself?” He put an arm under Eli’s shoulder.

  “I’ll drive Eli home.” The production assistant, Franka, joined the brothers at the door.

  “Well,” said Lacey, “at least the demo is mostly done. Let’s just clear the garbage away, guys.” She nodded at Michael. “We still need to tape a segue. Once the guys clear out the debris, we’ll put you over by the site of the demolished wall.”

  Michael didn’t respond.

  “Earth to Michael,” persisted Lacey.

  “All right, all right.”

  Once the crew discarded the rubbish, Lacey turned to Emily. “Hun, could you please stand next to Michael for this shot?”

  “So where do you want me?” asked Trent.

  Lacey turned her megawatt smile on him. “Actually, Trent, you’re fine over there by the door. Thanks.”

  Out of the camera shot, Trent glowered.

  Although Emily had only felt chilly vibes from Lacey so far, in that moment, she could have hugged the other woman. Trent’s behavior had been inexcusable. It was one thing to make an honest mistake and unwittingly hurt someone, but Trent’s lack of remorse sat in Emily’s gut like a hunk of moldy food.

  Emily ignored Trent’s expression and took her spot next to Michael. His face creased in concern, and Emily couldn’t look at him. If she continued to look at him, she’d say something completely inappropriate. Michael tore down her defenses, as easily as the crew had torn down the old wall.

  This is so wrong. You’re making it worse with your stupid daydreams.

  Conflicted and hurt, Emily tried to smile for the camera. It was a good thing that Michael had all the lines in this segment.

  As Lacey gave him his cue, he inhaled and smiled. “We’ve had an awesome demolition day, but there’s a lot more work to be done. Stay tuned. We’ll be starting drywall soon and Nick will give us a peek at his plans for the new deck. We’ve worked up a sweat here today, but the shower will have to wait until tonight.”

  Lacey held up a hand. “Michael, could you do it again for me, please?”

  “Why?”

  Lacey lowered her voice. “Because you look ready to murder someone. Say the last line again, but remember what I said about being playful. Maybe you could elbow Emily and wink at the camera.”

  Michael gawked. “That’ll make it sound tawdry.”

  “You say tawdry. I say sexy.” Lacey pretended to balance invisible scales. “Say the line, please.”

  He glanced at Emily. Her nerves erupted in a crazed giggle. “It’s okay. It won’t bother me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Go ahead. I could use a laugh.”

  He sighed, then launched into the short monologue. When he repeated the last sentence, rather than winking at the camera, he turned to Emily instead. “We’ve worked up a sweat here today, but the shower will have to wait until tonight.” He waggled his eyebrows, like a cheesy villain standing over the heroine he’d just tied to the train tracks.

  Despite her ornery mood, Emily cackled and snorted. All her pent-up nerves exploded from her in raucous laughter. The noise succeeded in making Michael burst out as well. To egg him on, Emily waggled her eyebrows. Michael put a hand over his mouth, but his shoulders moved with silent laughter. Lacey didn’t seem to mind. She rotated her finger in the air, a signal to Louie to keep filming. Once Emily and Michael were weeping in mirth, Lacey finally called an end to the shot.

  “That was the most genuine moment you’ve had on camera in ages, Michael,” said Lacey. “Weird, but genuine.”

  Michael shook his head. “I haven’t laughed like that in ages.”

  Emily wiped her eyes. “You have no idea how much I needed that. You’d make a great vaudeville actor.”

  “I won’t give up my day job.” He bit his bottom lip. “I’d better go check on Eli. I hope you enjoyed the demolition.”

  “I did. Thank you.”

  They stared at each other for a moment before Michael turned and headed toward where Eli
was gathering up his things.

  Emily glanced at Trent.

  Her fiancé had already gone.

  Chapter Seven

  “Another cup?” the coffee shop waitress asked.

  “No, thanks.”

  The waitress walked back to the counter and Emily turned her attention toward her cup, stirring it again, even though the coffee and the cream had blended long ago. She inhaled the scent of its Irish Crème flavor, wishing it was the genuine article. She could use something stronger right now, although she doubted any sort of alcohol, creamy or not, would fix her problems.

  After the day’s shoot, Emily hadn’t been able to face her empty condo, so she’d wandered toward the coffee shop down the road. She’d grabbed a seat near the window, away from the other patrons, a loud group of students brainstorming a project. She huddled in her corner, holding her cooling mug and staring out of the window.

  Trent had left in a huff after the sledgehammer incident, once again choosing not to share his whereabouts. No doubt he wanted to make her feel that she’d done something wrong. That was his forte, letting her stew in her own juices.

  Emily refused to do it anymore.

  Trent should have apologized to Eli, plain and simple. Would it have killed him? She was tired of making excuses for his comments and childish behavior.

  She was tired of him, period. Even without having discussed his conversation with Michael, Emily knew she was at a point of no return. She didn’t even care where he was or who he’d been with all those times he was supposed to be with her.

  She just wanted out now.

  Unfortunately, in order to end their engagement, she needed to be able to pin him down for five minutes.

  Shouldn’t I give him a chance to come clean first?

  After all, Trent had lost his job and he believed life sucked right now. Still, she’d been going out of her way to support him through the ordeal, both emotionally and financially. What more did he want her to do?

  Perhaps he was receiving emotional comfort elsewhere.

  The thought that Trent might be cheating had haunted the periphery of her consciousness for some time but she hadn’t wanted to admit it. Now she had no choice. The man was distant, distracted, and had mysterious phone calls when she wasn’t looking. He treated her with disinterest at the best of times and downright belligerence at the worst.

  Although he hadn’t been willing to respond to many of her texts lately, she took a chance that he would answer this final one.

  Are you cheating on me?

  Emily put her cell phone down on the café table and watched the display screen for a reply, but there was none.

  The question should have caused Trent to reply quickly, giving her assurances that he wasn’t betraying her. Such a message, left ignored, spoke volumes. She knew for a fact that even though Trent didn’t respond to all text messages, he always glanced at the screen to see them.

  She could almost hear Michael’s thoughts on the matter.

  Michael.

  “Stop thinking of him,” she murmured. Her obsession with the contractor wasn’t helping things.

  Neither was her inner voice. With increasing regularity, her instincts sent her messages, and each one flashed as bright as a Las Vegas casino sign.

  Dump Trent’s ass. He makes you unhappy. What more do you need to know?

  Determined to drive to Trent’s condo and finally have it out, Emily stood and picked up her purse. Planning what she’d say to him, she took her first steps toward the door. When she glanced out through the picture window near the entrance, some movement outside caught her attention.

  Trent emerged from the sports bar on the corner, one of the places where the two of them used to grab quick dinners. At first, Emily wasn’t sure it was him, but of course she’d know him anywhere.

  He wasn’t alone.

  He walked outside, looked around, and a woman followed him out. They were holding hands.

  Emily’s gaze traveled slowly from their linked hands to the woman’s face. Veronica. The owner of the bar, the friendly one who always used to chat with them when they visited. The one who’d always seemed so interested in Trent’s cooking experience.

  Trent looked down the road in both directions and grinned at Veronica. He led her a few steps away from the bar entrance, leaned her up against the brick wall and kissed her on the mouth.

  Emily couldn’t drag her gaze away, locked on the sight in morbid fascination as all her suppressed fears came to life in vivid Technicolor.

  Trent kissed Veronica as if he received his life’s breath from her, and the woman smoothed her hands down his back to his butt. He hadn’t kissed Emily like that since…had he ever kissed her like that? She must have grabbed the nearest chair, because the coffee shop waitress hurried over.

  “You look lightheaded. Do you need some help?”

  Emily shook her head, but couldn’t stop looking at her fiancé.

  The coffee shop waitress glanced out of the window. “Boy, some people, huh? Maybe someone should tell those two to get a room. You sure you’re okay, hun?”

  “Yes, thanks.”

  Trent and Veronica ended their kiss, but snuck a couple more. He said something to her and backed away. Veronica blew him a kiss, pouted and opened the bar door. Trent turned, but Veronica let go of the door and hurried back to him, flinging her arms around his neck. He grinned and they began necking as if they couldn’t drag themselves away from each other, like two rebellious teenagers whose parents disapproved of their relationship.

  Something about their passionate clinch roused Emily out of her stupor. The desperate nature of their kiss brought her inner hellion to life. All of a sudden, her rage had a soundtrack, and it was written by a young Alanis Morissette. She wanted to stomp and scream and start an uproar.

  Two years with this man. She’d shared her time, her finances, her fucking soul. Even though she’d begun to doubt his fidelity, having proof made the contents of her stomach turn over.

  Her feet led her outside the coffee shop, instantly picking up her pace, and it was a good thing, because she didn’t feel in control of her movements right then. She passed one store front, then another. By the time she’d passed a couple more buildings, she was running.

  She needed to tell Trent…tell him what exactly? That she hated him? That she wished he and his redheaded arm candy would die painful deaths, preferably in the mouth of a volcano?

  All she could see was her fiancé, the man about whom she’d worried so much, embracing another woman. How long had it been going on? It was possible Trent and Veronica had already been lovers when he’d taken Emily to that bar the first time. Had they traded looks behind her back, or maybe even snuck a grope or two when she went to the bathroom?

  They’d probably laughed at her.

  Her eyes stung with unshed tears as she hauled her slipping handbag back over her shoulder. She would not cry over this man.

  She. Would. Not.

  “Bastard.”

  When Trent and Veronica turned toward her, Emily realized she’d said the word aloud.

  “Oh, God, Em.” He turned the color of aged concrete.

  As Veronica moved away, Emily reared back, funneling all her anger into the swing of her arm. Blind with fury, she punched Trent in the face. Pain shot up her arm and exploded from her in a shout. “You heartless fuck!”

  When Trent went down, it was probably more out of shock than pain. A couple of teenage boys across the street hooted with mirth as his ass hit the pavement.

  Emily cradled her aching hand, astounded at what Trent had done, but even more so at what she’d done. Why had no one ever told her how much it hurt to hit someone? Surely that sort of information ought to be relayed to everyone who came of age. When Emily had first had her period, her mother bought her a book entitled Because You’re a Woman Now. She should have found one called Punching People Hurts Like a Bitch.

  “I’m calling the police,” said Veronica, pulling out her
cell phone. “You assaulted him.”

  “Call them. Call the goddamn Mounties, for all I care.” Emily turned to Trent. “Let’s hear what Trent has to say. What do you think, babe? Care to press charges?”

  “Put the phone away, Ronnie.” He scrambled to his feet.

  “Ronnie.” Emily cackled. “That’s rich. Hey, thanks for your cooperation, Ronnie.”

  Trent rubbed his cheek. “I deserved that one.”

  “You deserve another one. No, several.”

  “I’ve been an ass. Let me explain.”

  “Please do. I’m in desperate need of entertainment.”

  His blue eyes seemed so cold as he finally met her gaze. “What did you expect? Did you think it was easy for me to see you with those Zorn brothers?”

  “What exactly do you think I’m doing with the Zorn brothers? We’re fixing a house, not having a goddamned orgy.”

  “I’m not stupid. I see the way Michael Zorn looks at you.”

  “Wait…”

  “And I see the way you look at him.”

  Emily had to shut her gaping mouth. “You’re actually trying to blame me for your indiscretion. This takes the cake.” She turned to Veronica. “From one woman to another, please, how long have you been seeing him?”

  She glanced at Trent, then at the floor. “About six months.”

  “Thank you.” Emily turned back to Trent as she wrenched her engagement ring from her finger and tossed it to him, not caring when he dropped it and it rolled perilously close to a sewer grate. Maybe if she prayed hard, the tacky bauble would fall into the drink and be lost forever in an abyss of shit and piss. A girl can hope. “Go to hell, Trent.”

  “Em, please.”

  As Emily walked away, she spoke to Veronica once more. “I liked you, so I’m going to offer you a bit of advice.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “Too bad. You’re going to listen. He cheated on me. He’ll cheat on you too.”

  “Trent loves me.”

  “No, sister. Trent loves himself.”

  With one last glare at her ex-fiancé, she turned and marched down the street toward her condo. She didn’t stop moving until she was in the building and past security. If she stopped moving, she’d burst into tears, and she would not allow it. Seized by a moment of weakness in the elevator, Emily began to tear up, but she blinked the moisture away. Too bad she couldn’t swallow the lump of burlap in her throat. She pounded the button for the tenth floor and thanked her stars no one else got in the elevator with her. Once she was on her floor, she sped toward her door and unlocked it.