Exception (21 page)

“When you told me you lived close to Central Park you failed to mention that, if you lived any closer, you’d be living in it,” she teased playfully, finally tearing her eyes from the amazing view. “Congrats; you got me jealous for the millionth time.”

Taylor laughed at her joke. “I’ll endeavor to make up for all of them,” he said with a wink. “Come on, let me show you the rest of it.”

He took her around the apartment showing her the dining room and kitchen, his bedroom, the guest room he had turned into a study and library, which quickly became her favorite room, and, finally, the room that would be hers. All the while, they kept up an animated conversation that revolved mainly around the photographs covering the walls. She learned that he had taken most of them himself, which she found impressive. He showed her his favorites and told a few stories of the places where they were taken.

The spare room’s decoration was more feminine than the rest of the apartment, and Emily loved it. As she admired the room and the pictures hanging from the walls, Taylor walked back to the living room to retrieve her things.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, placing her bags by the bed.

Emily turned back to him and answered with a smile. “I’m starving, actually.”

The enthusiasm behind her statement had been a little more than she’d planned but, in all fairness, her stomach had been in knots the entire day and she hadn’t been able to eat that much.

“I better get some food into you, then. Don’t want you starving on me,” he joked, with a light nudge to her stomach. “You rather go out, or order in?”

“Order in. No doubt about that.”

Up until that moment, he’d been too distracted by his own happiness and her beauty to notice how tired she looked. “Starving and tired?” he asked with a smile. Her tired nod made him laugh. “Good, ‘cause I’m beat too. What do say to Chinese and a movie then?”

Without hesitation she flashed him a smile, and answered with the first thought that crossed her mind. “If it’s after a shower, I’d say it sounds like heaven.”

They briefly discussed the short list of food she didn’t like before he walked back to the living room, leaving her alone to shower and organize her things and her thoughts. Even though she trusted Taylor implicitly, the last time she had spent a night alone in a house with a man had been the worst of her life, and those awful memories had haunted her all day. Not wanting to encourage her fears and worried they might consume her, she tried to force them to the back of her mind.

Feeling rejuvenated from her relaxing shower, Emily changed into black yoga pants and a white sleeveless tank. She opened her door and moved toward the living room, halting at the sound of Taylor’s voice.

Trying to make as little noise as possible, she peeked into the next room and saw that he was leaning against the back of the couch, phone to ear, facing the massive window. Not wanting to pry, she turned her attention back to the pictures hanging on the walls. Despite her attempts to tune out his conversation, his voice carried too loudly for her to ignore.

“You better get your ass here and sort this out, then. I’ve had enough of her shit.” The anger in Taylor’s voice was verging on scary. He listened to the person on the other end of the line for a while longer, and the increasing tension in his shoulders and back didn’t go unnoticed to Emily. “I don’t fucking care if she’s good at her job and has great credentials, Nate. She’s an inappropriate whore and I’m done with her. I’ve tried to be nice and polite, but the damn woman won’t leave me alone.”

He was quiet for a few moments, listening to his friend once again. Suddenly, Emily saw his body shake with a chuckle. “No, asshat, sleeping with her isn’t an option. And, for your sake, I hope Dad isn’t around. If he is, then you deserved the slap on the head you just got.”

Nate must have said something funny, because Taylor started laughing and shaking his head before calling his friend yet another ass-related name. When the laughter died down, Taylor listened for a long while.

Clearly there was something bothering him deeply, and Emily wanted nothing more than to comfort him. Instead she stood at the end of the hallway, pretending to stare at a photograph of the Notre Dame.

When Nate finally stopped talking, Taylor hung his head and rubbed the heels of his free hand over his eye. Letting out a deep breath, he spoke again in a lower voice. “I can’t . . . I’ve told you alredy, it’s not like that. We’re just friends, Nate.”

There was silence in the room again. Understanding that they were talking about her, Emily started to retreat to her room, which caught Taylor’s attention. Feeling his eyes on her, she turned her head slightly towards him, her face burning with embarrassment at being caught eavesdropping. His wide smile and hand gesture for her to move closer put her a little more at ease.

As she walked towards him, Taylor spoke to his friend again. “Fine, I’ll see what I can do. But if it doesn’t work, then she’s gone. Deal?” His lips turned into an appreciative smile that Emily understood as his friend consenting to his terms. “Good. I gotta go now. Talk to you later, man.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you or to listen to you conversation,” Emily said with a smile.

Taylor laughed. His melting tension was almost visible. “Don’t worry about that. I have nothing to hide from you. We’re friends, right?”

His eyes locked with hers, and she gave him a small nod and a broad smile. He was mesmerized at how beautiful she looked, even in yoga pants. In fact, he thought that her natural look, with a clean washed face, bare feet and damp hair, made her even prettier. An errant thought of how beautiful she would look waking up next to him crossed his mind. However, it was instantly silenced by a
What the fuck? You’re just friends, Taylor.

She smiled at him. “Yes we are. Wanna talk about it?”

Before he could answer, the intercom rang, with an announcement that their dinner had arrived and the deliveryman was already riding the elevator. Taylor told Emily where to find their favorite soda and glasses, and moved to the door to receive their food.

Seconds later he walked back into the living room with the two bags. Emily stood halfway between the two rooms, holding a tray with glasses and the bottle of Mountain Dew. “Where are we eating?”

“I know it will sound weird, but I love to eat here.” He pointed to the living room rug beneath his feet. “It’s the most comfortable rug, and we can use the coffee table.”

She eyed the fuzzy striped rug suspiciously. It really looked comfortable, but never in her entire life had she ate sitting on the floor. It just didn’t sound very sanitary. However, he had the most adorable, up-to-no-good childlike excitement glowing on his face that she found simply irresistible.

Lifting her eyes from his intended sitting spot, she looked at him with curious eyes. “Is it clean?”

“It’s probably cleaner than most places. Daisy would still be here if it wasn’t,” he informed laughing. Seeing the inquisitive look on her face, he continued. “She’s my housekeeper and general life saver. She’s a self-proclaimed OCD, which makes her not stop until you can literally eat off floor. Or at least, sitting on it.”

Hearing that, Emily agreed to the eating arrangements and walked towards him. Setting the tray on the glass coffee table, she sat down next to him. The rug was even fuzzier and more comfortable than it looked.

Taylor worked through the boxes of food, opening lids and telling her their contents while she filled their glasses with soda.

He’d ordered all of her favorites—spring rolls, stir-fried veggies, and noodles. As Emily snatched a roll from the box, Taylor fumbled with a remote control. The distinct sound of a blues guitar filled the room; the voice that followed was as easily recognizable as the instrument.

Emily sang along, impressing Taylor not only with the sound of her beautiful voice mixed with the raspy tone of one of his favorite blues men, but also with the fact that she knew the tune by heart.

“What?” she asked, finally noticing his eyes on her.

“You know John Lee Hooker,” he stated incredulously. Tossing some of the veggies into her box of noodles, she nodded and dug in. His lips tugged in that familiar, amused smile. “Is it just him, or you’re into blues in general?”

She smirked in between mouthfuls of what was, without a doubt, the best noodles she’d ever had. “I like blues in general, but Hooker and Guy . . . I just love them.” Her eyes closed in appreciation for the food “Mm . . . ” She took yet another mouthful and pointed to the box with her chopsticks before speaking again. “This is . . . yummo.”

As they ate, they talked about everything, ranging from the Chinese restaurant to Taylor’s conversation with Nate. Having already given Emily an introduction to Kimberly and her many annoying traits, he simply filled her in on today’s events. She listened attentively as he explained Nate’s reservations about firing her.

By the end of the conversation, Emily had to agree with Nate. If the entire staff knew that she was coming onto him but was also extremely efficient at her job, firing her for anything less than a public sexual harassment complaint would raise suspicions of his position. He would have to come up with another way to get the woman to leave him alone.

The food was long gone, and Emily’s stomach felt like it would explode from the amount she’d eaten, but they hadn’t moved from their spot on the floor. Talking and enjoying some good music together felt like heaven to both friends, who were equally used to feeling lonely, despite rarely ever being alone.

All of a sudden, a light bulb went on in Emily’s head. “Do you think she’d quit if she thought you had a girlfriend?”

“I don’t know, but Nate thinks she might.”

“Problem solved then,” she said with a content smile. “I’m here and going to the opening with you. You’ve been spending and, hopefully, will keep spending your weekends in New Haven, where I live. If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck . . . ” she trailed off, letting the intended meaning behind her words speak volumes.

The idea was appealing to Taylor for more reasons than the one. “Nate suggested that as well, but we’re friends, Ems. And I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position and ruin our friendship.”

“Good thing you’re not, then.” She shook her head, dismissing his complaint. “We look after each other. That’s the deal. Besides, just like what you told me about your company’s name, we don’t even need to tell people anything. They will see us together and assume what’s logical to them. The only thing we’ll do is not deny the rumors.”

Emily seemed so sure about her decision that Taylor decided not to argue. Besides, she was right. To anyone who wasn’t privy to the details of their friendship they would look like a couple. With that out of the way, they continued their conversation with other topics.

They sat on the floor, talking and laughing, until their lids were heavy with sleep. Emily was nearly too tired to walk when she leaned on Taylor’s shoulder as he walked her to her room and wished her a good night.

Sleep came easy to both, and soon, it was morning. Emily woke up to a knock on her door. For a moment she forgot where she was and her confused, hazy brain questioned why Zack was knocking instead of just barging in, as he usually did. Only after she told the knocker to come in did realization hit her that she wasn’t on her bed, and that the man who would enter wouldn’t be Fruitcake.

Taylor carefully opened the door just enough to fit half of his body through. She looked at him through heavy eyes and wished him a good morning in a whispery, groggy voice. He answered with a wide smile. “Good morning to you too, Sleeping Beauty. I’m going to have breakfast and then hit the park, you in?”

Emily reached her arm to grab her phone from the nightstand. Seeing the time she groaned, letting her arm fall over of her eyes. “This doesn’t feel like eight. I’m exhausted.”

“We were talking until three last night, that’s probably why,” he said, laughing. “If you want to skip the run and sleep in that’s okay.”

She dropped her arm from her face and looked at him. His face looked just as sulky as his voice, which made her giggle as she swung her legs from under the covers. She pushed herself into a seated position and turned to look at him. The sulkiness in his eyes was gone and replaced by a content smile; he knew his persuasion plan worked. She ordered him out so she could change, and soon was out of the room and walking to the kitchen in her running clothes and sneakers.